Walter Lawerance McLaughlin

[Willo]

Name: Walter Lawerance McLaughlin

Age: 76

Occupation back home: Retired

Appearance:


Nationality: Unknown

Residence:Oak Lakes Retirement Home; Woodinville, WA.

Skills: A surprizingly strong swimmer and is underestimated in other factors. He describes himself as “having seen a lot,” and was one of the few people to remain calm after the crash.

Weaknesses/bad habits: He has been a smoker nearly all of his adult life, is grumpy and offputting and often downright insulting. He sees no reason to change, and refuses the help of people around him.

Frequent moods/expressions: Grumpy, grizzled, adjectated, and unwelcoming. He describes everyone on the island, save Locke, as a child, and often questions if they are even thinking at all. Not a happy person.

Reason for flight: Returning from “vacation”

Item from wreckage: A small bag with unknown contents, and a complementrary flight pillow.

[ana]

Y'know, now that I'm looking at both your pictures, Walter looks like he might pass for Willo's dad. There's a certain resemblance to each other....Just thought I'd mention that.....

[Willo]

The age difference makes me not want to think about that.

[ana]

Erm...okay his grandfather then....

[Willo]

FLASHBACK
Walter sat at a table in what looked to be a game room. Around him were four men holding cards, with a large pile of chips on the table. Walter's eyes shifted as he glanced at his opponents. He throws in some chips, and stares down the other men.

Suddenly one of the men begins to move backwards, as if he was floating. A nurse is pulling him away from the table in his wheelchair.

"Hey!" Walter said, getting up to the table, "We ain't done yet!"

"I'm sorry," the nurse said, in a rather unpolite tone, "but it's time for lunch. You can play after naptime."

"But we're playing now, God damn it!"

"I'm sorry, but..."

"I am a war vet. I fought in Korea, missy. What have you done with your life? You clean people's drool for a living. So why do you get to tell me when I can do something?"

"Listen, Mr. McLaughlin, you know the schedule, you know when you can do things, and you know the time constraints. Now you can either come along to lunch, or you won't get any pudding."

"What gives you the right to tell me when I can do things? I don't pay you to tell me what to do!"

"Well, if you're paying for this, why don't you just leave? Otherwise come to lunch."

The other men get up from the table, and one of them looks at Walter and says "Come on, Walter. Pudding." The slowly hobble out of the room, leaving Walter alone at the table.

"They did it, they finally did it," he said, throwing the table over, spilling chips all over the ground. "They finally took away my honor."

[Willo]

FLASHBACK, PART II.

Walter was sitting in a room with a man, around 40 years old. Walter was carrying a suitcase, and the man was trying to stop him from going through a door.

"You can't do this," he said. "It's too dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Walter said. "I was in Korea, I got shot in the leg. I've seen more one day of my life than you'll see in your entire lifetime, boy."

"Dad," the man said, "It's going to cost too much money, I'm putting a hold on your spending."

"I earned my damn money, I'll spend it however I well please!"

"You're going to run out, dad," he said, with a frown. "And I can't afford to support you."

"You put me in this home, didn't 'ya?"

"Dad..."

"I hate it here, son. I really do," Walter said.

"The doctor said..."

"The doctor don't have shit for brains," Walter said.

"He went to Brown, dad."

"Washington U has one of the best medical programs in the nation, why didn't he go there? Or John Hopkins? Cause he ain't smart enough, that's why."

"You're being unreasonable, dad...."

"You're trying to keep me locked up in this place, trying to keep me from spending my money and doing what I want to do," Walter said. "Well, I ain't gonna have it. I'm going to Australia, boy."

[Willo]

Walter's son, Gerald Washington McKinley

[Willo]

FLASHBACK I, PART III



I knew, you'd love me as long as you wanted, Patsy Cline sang over the delapadated, mono speak system in the old 24-hour cafe, where Walter sat by nursing a glass of coffee and smoking a cigerette.

And then someday, you'd leave me for somebody new.

Walter stood at the booth, looking at a plane ticket to Sydney on the table. He sat alone in a booth as a bell from
another part of the cafe sounded. Someone had walked in through the front door. A man in a black suit walked over to Walter's table as Walter put out his ciggerette.

Worry, why do I let myself worry?

"Are you sure you want to do this Walter?"

Wonderin', what in the world did I do?

After a long pause as Walter looked down at his ticket, he looked back at the man. "I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life."

Oh, crazy, for thinkin' that my love could hold you.....

"This is a pretty big decision, and, usually we'd do this in my office..."

"Well, we ain't in your office, are we? I've been thinking 'bout this long and hard. This is what I want to do."

I'm crazy for tryin' and crazy for cryin

"Alright, then... just sign here," the man said. "And try not to spill coffee on it."

And I'm crazy for lovin' you.

Walter signed on the line and let out a big sigh as he looked up to the concerned face of his lawyer, David Weinbloom.

"Alright, Mr. McLaughlin, your son is offically out of your will. Now all your funds will be distribuated to charities at the time of your death, with the sum of $250,000 to be split among whatever grandchildren you may have at the age they turn 18. Should there be no children, they will go to the specifiied orphanages."

Walter let out a sigh, and lit a ciggerette.

[Willo]

David Weinbloom, Attorney.

He will be a recurring character, though probably not in Walter's flashback. If you want him to appear in one of your flashbacks, let me know, we can talk.

[Willo]

Walter and a man in a brown suit walked through the terminal of an airport.

"I'm sorry about this sir, this is just my job," the man said.

"You picked your job, didn't you?" Walter snapped, as they pasted a magazenne shop.

"There was some question about your mental heath, sir," he said. "And the person insists that you see an American psychologist."

"That person is my no-good, overbearing son," Walter said. "Make sure my lawyer knows when to meet me on the ground."

"It's already been done, sir," the man said. "And again," he said, reaching the runway where a big Oceanic sign hung.

"Get a better job," Walter said, and put on a fedora before walking to the plane. Walter bumped into a man as he was trying to get onto the plane. The man dropped his bag and Walter's hat came off. Aaron Brooks looked up and sighed.

"Sorry," he said, picking up his bag.

Walter said nothing, just let Aaron ahead of him.

[Hollywood Heidi]

Wow, great job as usual. Pretty huge, harsh decision to write your kid out of your will. But did he decide that only because his son put him in that home or were there other things as well?

[Willo]

Call this the straw that broke the camal's back, so to speak. There is more past there, for sure.

[Willo]

A man opens his eye. The sea is reflected in it. It is the eye of a young man. Sweat is pouring down his face as his blue eye blinks again. The boat shifts, and his army helmet becomes visible.

The man behind him vomits over the side as he checks the ammo for his gun and glances at the other men. His name tag reads "Wagner," though his eyes are bright and blue. And explosion reflects in his eyes as he stares ahead. He looks ahead at what lies ahead of him: the beaches of Normandy.

- - -

Walter McLaughlin looks out onto the beach of the island and lowers his head down. His hands shake, as it all becomes to much for him. The man faints.

[Hollywood Heidi]

Gah, another teaser flashback... Don't leave me hangin'!

[Willo]

......
"McLaughlin!" an army officer dressed in allied colors shouted. A young pale skinned with brown eyes and red hair walks up to him.

"Yes sir!"

"You're going to be part of a project to scour land we've already liberated for remaining Nazi resistance. It's a low risk operation and you'll be working as part of a platoon that examines areas in two men teams. Here's your partner. Wagner!"

The blue eyed man approaches, a smile on your face.

"This is McLaughlin, your partner. Don't look down on him cause he's Irish, he's good, according to his papers."

"I'm Walter," the redhead said.

"Everyone calls me Wagner."

"Looks like we'll be working together."

"So, what'd you do?"

"Excuse me?" the redhead asked.

"Well, you must of pissed someone off fierce to be here. This is where the put the people they can't trust on the front lines, you know."

"It's probably just the Irish thing. I swear, some people hate us worse than the damn Nazis."

Wagner laughed and took a swig of his canteen. He smiled as he walked over to a place where he had made camp. The redhead followed him, looking over his sholder.

"You an artist, then?" he said, looking at some of his drawings.

"Not much of one, I'm afriad," Wagner said.

"Let me ask you something, then, Wagner. What did you do to end up here?"

"I've been here since Normandy, Walter. I guess someone thought I could use a break."

[Willo]

"You got any kids, Walter?" Wagner asked.

"Nope, not a one," McLaughlin said as they walked along the countryside. "Not married. Both of my parents are dead. As you can tell, I don't have a lot of friends. Hell, military's all I got. What about you?"

"I got nothin' too," Wagner said. He looked down at the ground and then ahead. He held his hand up. There were tracks on the ground--those made by Nazi vehicles. They followed the tracks slowly, which lead down the hill to a mine, which was boarded up, though there was a door.

"Alright, I go in first, you cover me," Wagner said, before making his way to the door. He kicked it open, and burst into the cave. He walked down a hallway and turned a corner. There were two men in Nazi uniforms playing cards. Warner fired and shot both of them in the head. He made his way over to them and looked at the bodies.

"There could be more," McLaughlin said, creeping out of the darkness.

"This is an abandoned post," Wagner said. "They left two men, whom they wanted to die anyway, here to guard it."

"Why guard an abandoned mine?"

Warner pulled up the lantern and shown it down the shaft. It was filled with various valuable pieces of art, gold, silver, china, jewelry.

"All stolen from the people they took over. In case the wind changed, Hitler wants his gold," Wagner stated, and moved the bodies out of the way.

"We've got to report this," McLaughlin said, making his way to the exit. "I'm going to out to radio to base."

"Wait!" Wagner said, and Walter spun around. As he did, a shot was fired. Walter fell to the ground, grabbing his stomach. Wagner picked up a pistol from one of the dead Nazis and cocked it slowly. Walking up to Walter, who was grabbing his stomach.

"About four years before the war, I was in jail," Wagner said. "I made a mistake, and things got out of hand. I didn't do anything wrong, but I was in jail. Well, I escaped from jail and, before the law could catch up to me, I joined the army. My name is not Wagner. I don't plan on going back to the states as a poor man."

"What is it?"

"What?"

"Your real name?"

"Starting today, it's Walter Lawerance McLaughlin," he said, and pulled the trigger.

[Gwen Havers]

Whoa, dude! Stolen Nazi art, switched identities? Now I have to go back and re-read everything!