Participants:
| Scene Title | More Than Time of Day |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Cat comes to talk to April about what her former fiance saw in the mass premonition of June 10th. |
| Date | June 26, 2010 |
It's taken days since she set herself upon this task, working to accomplish it among other things. Those factors, coupled with the several dead ends she's discovered by virtue of there being many April Silvers and Bradleys in these five boroughs, are responsible for time past between the lunch with James Silver and now. Cat approaches the entrance of a hotel here in SoHo at approximately 06:50 — she doesn't know what time the night shift ends. It could be ten minutes from now, that seeming a logical and common hour for such things, or it could be longer than that. Best to cover the bases, she believes.
So it is that when 08:00 arrives, Cat is still present outside the commercial lodging place with two cups of Starbucks coffee and a stack of newspapers from various global points next to her, using whatever's available as a stand to keep it all on.
"I should've brought my guitar and amp to this stakeout," she comments to herself.
It isn't until a little after eight that a familiar face exits the main doors of the building, hands tucked into her pockets and head slightly bowed, wavy dark hair fallen forward over her shoulders. She's dressed in a dark gray suit with soft red blouse underneath, and gives the sidewalk only a cursory glance before setting out down the street, shoes clipping against concrete in a brisk pace; familiarity breeds contempt, as they say, and April has been walking this route every day for quite some time now. She doesn't appear to notice Cat, perhaps especially because there's no guitar and amp to stand out amidst the backdrop of New Yorkers with coffee and newspapers.
April's exit from the building is observed, she being curious if the woman from the future will recognize her on sight and react. When she doesn't, her head tilts to one side. Interesting. "Hey," Cat calls out toward the woman as she passes by, quickly scooping up the items with her and moving in that direction, "can you tell me what time it is, chica? I'm supposed to meet someone in half an hour or so, and I forgot to charge my iPhone."
The older woman pauses as she is apparently addressed, glancing over towards the speaker; yes, they really meant her. "Excuse me?" Rubbing at her eyes in a weary gesture, April glances down at her watch. "Eight oh-seven," she supplies. She looks at Cat for a moment more, then nods briefly and turns back to continue on her way, not seeming to think any more of the request than its face value.
"Thanks, April," Cat offers as she continues on a following path. "Good of you to give me the time of day," she adds with a chuckle, "now hopefully you'll give me a bit more. I've got an interesting story to share, and hey, I brought you coffee too. I hope you like Starbucks."
Should April again turn, the five feet eight inch brunette is a few feet behind her, dressed in darker colors. Shorts, sleeveless shirt, athletic shoes, might be from a society background given how she carries herself.
At the sound of her name, April freezes, not even five steps farther along in her travel. She pivots to stare at Cat, one hand coming up before her torso but remaining still once it gets there, fingers loosely curled. Green eyes flick over the other people on the street, the buildings to either side; that she doesn't see anyone suspicious paradoxically seems to increase the woman's apprehension. "I'm not interested," April finally replies, stumbling backwards in half-conscious attempt to widen the distance between them. "I don't want anything to do with it. Just go away and leave me alone."
"Unfortunate," Cat tells her in a voice kept quiet, "because if you don't hear me out I think this story is going to find you again, just like I found you. See, at noon on the tenth I was helping a law school classmate out of a wrecked bus on a bridge, and a few days ago I had lunch with him. He tells me this story, about being with a woman he was supposed to marry on November 8th this year. Trouble is, he doesn't believe it's possible." She holds one of the coffee cups out again toward April, an offer.
"I don't think I have to tell you why he doesn't believe it's possible."
April acquires a rather stunned expression as Cat continues, her hand slowly dropping to hang limp at her side. "He…" The time-traveler closes her eyes, averting her face, dark hair falling forward to half-hide it. After a bit, she turns away, walking down the street with far more leaden steps. Didn't take the coffee, but she isn't running and hasn't repudiated Cat any further, either.
The distance is made up as she walks, Cat drawing alongside April so she can speak and not be overheard by persons passing by. "So he tells me this story," she explains solemnly, "of being with that woman. Puts me in quite the spot, because there are a number of things I don't just tell the whole world, but I won't lie to him. I pay him a dollar so I can claim attorney-client privilege and tell him the truth, parsed as a hypothetical thing about people traveling from the future without mentioning names, which he disbelieves. Then I cite some other ways he could've had that vision." The coffee she didn't offer April is lifted and sampled, causing her eyes to close briefly. Good stuff, that.
"Eventually, we come back to the concept of traveling time. I tell him it's possible a woman who looked like the one he envisioned being with came back. Shapeshifters, illusionists, telepaths, persuaders… All possible. He tells me it can't be the woman he knew, because she'd have come to find him. So I explain that no matter who or what she is, she wouldn't be the woman he knew. She'd have different experiences. As for her reasons to not find him, well, I told him I can't answer that. Only she can."
April doesn't once look at Cat as they walk; might not be listening at all, except that she is. It isn't until about half a block after Cat's finished speaking that the older woman gives voice to a reply. "That's quite a story," she says softly, still not taking her eyes off the route ahead of them, for all that the crossing into Little Italy is worn into her feet and happens without conscious direction. "Sounds like something you came across in a comic book. Except the writer would probably give it a happy ending by having her be the same person. Happily ever after, and so on." April's gaze drops to her feet, despite the thin smile that stretches her lips. "Readers like that kind of thing. Maybe because it doesn't happen for real."
"It'd be hard for her to be the same woman he knew," Cat remarks somberly, "being ten years older than she was, and having spent a good portion of those years in a pit of hell I helped blow up. The event Edward Ray used to escape that future version of the prison and come here. I was also in on the demolition of Pinehearst. I know a good bit more about things than I let on to my classmate." Quiet occurs, as she partakes of the coffee again.
"The story isn't done yet, April. An unwritten ending. Could be happy. It's possible that while she isn't the same woman, she's similar enough. It's possible the time-traveler and he might not even cross paths, but the evidence suggests they will. Up to her whether or not she decides to get out in front of things and seek to write the story, or just let it scribe itself."
"Maybe she doesn't want to be that person," April interjects. "Or to be mistaken for her." The sound of footsteps reigns for a few moments; when she continues, it's in a still quieter voice. "Maybe she doesn't know who she is, and doesn't want someone else telling her who she must be. Maybe she wasn't supposed to live through coming back, never pose a problem at all, but the wrong one died." A brief pause. "Maybe it's better to leave that chapter closed, over, done, so everyone can move on. Especially him."
"Whichever of those is true, April," Cat quietly opines, "the choice of which way to go remains hers. New York's big, so many people. Could be they never cross paths amid that sea of humanity. But it could just as easily be that they will, as foreseen. I'm not going to tell him where to find her." She seeks to make eye contact then, to underscore sincerity of the claim, and in doing so there's a trace of haunted expression. She's known the pain of loss too.
April stops again, looking over at Cat. She doesn't say anything at first, not even knowing what to say, where to begin; but ultimately, she just replies with one word: "Good." A moment later, the doppelganger shakes her head slightly, then steps back, turning to disengage and retreat down a sidestreet, taking her doubts with her.
No footsteps follow after April this time, Cat's said her piece and been heard out. She simply watches the woman walk away for a time, indulging in her own thoughts of how she'd react should some future version of Dani surface and avoid her. Or not. Curiosity regarding that future April came from exists too, but she opts not to extend an invitation to visit. Cat isn't hard to find, address-wise. Neither is James Silver someone April would have trouble locating, she believes.
She doesn't intend to seek April Silver again.