Participants:
| Scene Title | Acknowledgments Page |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Savannah finally gets to catch up with Lene. |
| Date | June 17, 2011 |
West side of Central Park, New York City
With the news of the high mortality rate of the new flu strain, there are a few perks to be had. Traffic is lighter and lines are shorter as more and more people begin to lock themselves in their homes. Secondly, because more and more New Yorkers are doing just that, Lene is getting more business. Walking dogs is never so lucrative as when the rich and germaphobic are afraid to leave their homes.
Not that Lene blames them in this instance. Though she can't catch this flu, she has a roommate who can, and she's been cautious. Rubber gloves cover her hands as she walks the two Great Danes through Central Park's west end. One of the dogs would be powerful enough to carry Lene along for the ride if it were to misbehave, let alone two, but the two amble along easily enough.
Lene herself is dressed for the oddly cool and misty morning in a hoodie and jeans, most of her red hair covered by the purple hood and her eyes behind sunglasses. The dual-leash allows her one free hand to hold a 20 ounce coffee cup, which she sips from now and then as she lets the dogs lead her along the path.
Savannah's never been one to flee in the face of adversity. When she moved to New York, there'd been several instances where the city proved to be a little more dangerous. Ordinary people might have left. She'd even allowed herself to be convinced into a nice vacation for a few weeks out of the country when she'd heard news of her own demise. Of course, that was all in the past and whatever Kam's protests might be now, the blonde was stubbornly determined to stay.
While people are afraid to leave, it means good things for Savannah. No worries about the media hunting her down, and her people watching can be more focused on the few rare people who do venture out. Seated on one of the park's benches, arms folded over her chest in an attempt to keep warm, the blonde author is regretting not getting coffee herself. Her people-seeking causes her eyes to fall upon Lene, and she immediately sits up a little straighter, almost doing a double take. Was that who she thought it was?
"Hey!" She calls loudly.
One of the dog's — the blue-coated — barks at Savannah's call, and Lene turns quickly to see who is yelling. Usually the park would be busy at this time with walkers, joggers, coffee-sellers; but now, it's mostly deserted but for a few people. "Hush, Ophelia," Lene tells the dog, tugging the leash, but the harlequin-coated dog joins in, their low woofs making Lene laugh.
Her eyes fall on the bench and she sees Savannah. "Oh, hey!" the younger woman exclaims, turning the dogs to round the corner and greet Savannah, though she stops several feet away, in case the author isn't keen on 250 pounds of dog jumping on her at once.
"It's really good to see you," Lene bubbles, pulling her sunglasses off with a looped finger to hold with her coffee cup.
"It was Lene, wasn't it?"
The blonde scoots on the bench to make room, giving the dogs a bit of a smile as well, offering a hand forward for the dogs to sniff at. "I never got to thank you. For, um, saving my life, I guess. And getting me a trip to Prague with my boyfriend. That's a perk. Things turned out alright, but I dunno that they would have if I didn't have that warning. So I'm glad I ran into you. I just wanted to thank you…" She trails off, laughing slightly. "Sorry, I'm babbling now."
"Lene, yeah. Jolene, but you can call me Lene," the faux-redhead says, moving to sit on the bench. "This is Ophelia and that's Hamlet, but they're much saner and well mannered than the originals from what I hear. Not that I ever read it."
The dogs inch forward to let themselves be pet before Hamlet decides to mark the bench and Ophelia lies down at Lene's feet.
"You're welcome. I'm sorry if I freaked you out about it," Lene adds, a pink blush coming over her features as she stares down at the dogs. "But I'm glad it worked out well. The writing's going good? Someone got me a copy of your newest!"
"That's a shame. They're great characters. I've got a friend who's absolutely obsessed with Hamlet. She named her car after one of the characters and was considering getting a tattoo and everything," Savannah laughs, watching the dogs. "Just be careful that Ophelia doesn't run off and drown."
The blonde looks back towards the faux-redhead with interest as it's mentioned about her new book. "Oh! You did? I'm so glad. I have you to thank for that too. My writing's going great… it's got its ups and downs like I do, but… it's really going well. And you freaked out Kam more than you freaked me out. He didn't even want to be in New York on Christmas Eve after that. He begged me to leave for a while."
Lene studies her shoes for a moment. "I think I tried to read Shakespeare once, but I didn't get very far. Some of the pages were missing, and it made it even more confusing, so I gave up. I'm sure it's better if you see it acted out and all, too, but I don't know if I would understand any of it. This lady who owns these dogs is some actress; apparently her favorite part to play ever was Ophelia. I think she thought I was dumb when I didn't really know much about them."
Lene swings her feet, crossing them at the ankles before looking back up at Savannah. "I'm glad it's going well. You'd have been okay if you went, but it was still pretty disastrous. You probably saw it in the papers and the news?" Her nose wrinkles as she remembers the night. "Luckily no one really got hurt."
"It bugs me when people make assumptions like that. I mean, I've read Hamlet but that doesn't mean I'm a rocket scientist," Savannah points out, looking at the two dogs before back at Lene. "Yeah, I figure after everything that happened it would have been fine if I went, but Kam absolutely was convinced that we needed to go out of the country. I think he just wanted a romantic vacation and now he had an excuse. I am really glad, though, that no one got hurt."
"I could probably be a rocket scientist," Lene says with a smirk, as she reaches to pet Hamlet. "But that doesn't mean I could do what you do. And I can't play an instrument unless I cheat, or carry a tune or paint or anything. Everyone I guess has their own talents."
She reaches up to scratch her nose, the rubber gloves she wears evident, then takes another sip of coffee. "Any plans for your next book? Will you name a character after me?" she says suddenly, changing conversation topics like a California lane change (or Jersey slide).
If Savannah noticed that Lene swerved into her lane without signaling, the blonde doesn't give much of a reaction. "I'm working on a new trilogy… so I could name a character Jolene, I think. It's a cute name, after all. Sounds a little southern, but I think anything starting with 'Jo' sounds like that." A pause, her eyes drifting to the gloves. "You a little worried about the 'Red Death'?" She questions, eyes full of genuine concern.
"Yeah, it does sound a little Southern, I guess. You don't have to name anyone after me… you could just make it a charming brilliant heroine with red hair and green eyes, right?" Lene says with a bright smile that fades as she glances at her gloves.
"Me… no. I'm not, but I don't want to carry it. My roommate… well, my best friend, really? She could get it, but I couldn't," she says quietly. "So I'm trying to be careful when I go out. Wear the gloves, dump them right before I go into the apartment. I don't know. It seems a small thing to do that could make a difference."
She nods to Savannah. "Are you not worried about it? I mean, I don't think people should live in fear, but this looks like it's pretty bad. Like, way worse than it should be." Her brows knit together at that.
"People seem to like red-headed heroines, I guess… you aren't the first to want one, though the last person was looking for a sequel to one of my earlier books," Savannah says, though her eyes drift back to the gloves. She frowns, just slightly.
"I guess that's true. Just be cautious. People are worried about a lot of things though, so… I suppose I'm careful, but I'm not hiding out. It's not like everyone's immune, but I don't like living in fear. I don't like running away. I do that enough on a personal level so when it comes to something like this… I don't want to just give in."
Savannah's words bring a self-deprecating huff of a laugh from Lene. "I know what you mean," she says with a shrug. "Just be careful. Wash your hands a lot — I haven't seen my friend who can see the future for a while so I don't have any crazy omens of the future to warn you with this time, sorry." Her words come with a smirk as Lene rises to her feet.
The dogs get up, tails wagging as they anticipate the rest of their walk. "Hopefully you live a long and happy life, though," Lene adds.
"I think if I've got Kam to make sure I get out of bed in the morning and take my meds, I'll probably live a long and happy life," Savannah agrees, looking towards the dogs again. "They say no news is good news, so you can cross your fingers that there are no omens because there's no need for them." She nods towards Lene politely. "I'm sure things will be fine for you. You seem like you're trying extra hard to be careful."
Lene chuckles, reaching with the free hand to snap the glove of the other dramatically. "Trust me when I say that I'm pretty sure I won't die of a flu. It's just not in my genes. But I don't want to get anyone else sick if I can help it, and while I may be immune, and while I may not be good at a lot of things, I understand universal precautions."
The dogs begin to tug toward the trail, and Lene takes an involuntary step or three forward, weighing about half of their combined weight. "Unlike the other Hamlet, this one is very decisive," she quips. "It was good seeing you — in 2011 and alive and healthy of all things!" she says brightly. At least one of the things they've set out to change seems to have been a success.
"Yeah, it was good to see you. Thanks again for all the help… and I hope you enjoy the book," Savannah agrees, leaning back on the bench a little bit. "I'll stay alive and healthy… I don't plan on letting something like this hold me back from my work. Take care of yourself, Jolene."
Hamlet and Ophelia insistently pull on the leash, tugging Lene another couple of steps forward, but she looks over her shoulder to wave her coffee cup at Savannah. "Good. I look forward to seeing me in all my glory as a heroine in your next book," she says playfully.
"Or you know, at least a shout out on the acknowledgements page…" she adds before breaking into a jog, letting the dogs' long legs set the pace for the journey home.