Participants:
| Scene Title | Nothing But Worry |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | The aftermath of the visions causes mother and daughter to worry about one another and others when they touch base by phone. |
| Date | June 10, 2010 |
After hanging up with her father, one of the "private ferries" that come and go from Staten Island finally arrived to take Tasha back to the mainland. Vincent's fears of overcrowded, capsizing boats were for naught — while many people, like Tasha, seem eager enough to get away from the island, the crowds aren't rushing the boat like stampeding wildebeests. Unfortunately, for most Staten Island residents, there's a reason they choose to leave there, and for that same reason they stay — even in times like these.
Staking a seat on the upper deck, Tasha scrolls to her mother's phone number and presses send. She sits forlornly, the backpack on her lap, her injured wrist resting on top of it. The hand holding the phone to her ear shakes a little as she waits for the ringing to be interrupted.
Two rings is all Tasha's going to get as Joanna's bolting up from her couch - a bad idea - and grabbing for her cellphone. It could be many people but it's one of the few people that she was worried about. Two rings in, her fingers stabbing at the button bringing it to her ear. "Tasha?" Panicked sounding. "Please tell me you're okay Natasha. Do you need me to come pick you up somewhere? I can get a car and come"
That worried voice makes the tears spring to Tasha's already red and swollen eyes — she certainly doesn't look like most of the hardened folks who come and go from the mainland to Staten, and some of them on the deck glance at her curiously. She's not the typical bad-ass biker chick or the sleezy prostitute type, so she is an anomaly, sitting there like a school girl clutching a backpack, as if she took the wrong boat on a field trip.
"Mom," she breathes, relieved to hear her mother's voice. She'd looked up the news on her cell phone, saw how many traffic accidents and other chaos had occurred. From here, she can see the helicopters hovering in the skyline.
"I'm okay. I'm on a ferry. I … I don't know where Colette is. She won't answer her phone." Her voice chokes a little on those words, and she wipes her eyes. "Are you okay? Did you see anything? Are you hurt? Where were you when it happened?"
I saw myself dying, is not something you tell your teenaged daughter. "I was in court. Opposition was walking past me and he collapsed, I hit my head on the table, but I'll be fine. Just a concussion. The judge adjourned for the time being" Lie, lie, lie. About whether she had the vision, everything else was true. "I'm in my office, I can have a car sent for you, we can look for her Tasha. We'll find her" She's already standing up, hand on her desk so she can dig out the number of the car service she uses.
That doesn't sound right — someone collapsed and made her mom hit the head on the table? Tasha chews her thumb nail. "No, I'm okay. I can … I'll just take the subway or something and get back to the apartments and see if she's there. If you have a concussion, you shouldn't be out driving around looking for people, Mom. Do you need me to come take care of you? I think you're not supposed to be by yourself if you have a concussion, right? Have to have someone come poke you every few hours and make sure your brain didn't swell?" She's had a few in her time, thanks to softball and karate.
"I can come stay with you but I'd like to go leave a note for Colette, if she's not checking the phone… she might stop by the apartment." More tears slide down her cheeks. An elderly Chinese man sits next to her and offers her a dirty handkerchief. Tasha shakes her head with wide eyes at him. Creepy.
"Someone else would be driving, not me. It would make me feel better, we can go together Tasha, I'd feel better if you weren't alone at the moment either. Not while you're looking for Colette. Have you called your father? He'll be worried about you" She's left a message for him not long ago, not willing to talk to him, figuring he'd be busy if the word traveling through the building was any indication. Evolved influence. "We can stay at your place, instead of mine. Kill two birds with one stone, Colette will show up, if not… I'll pull every string I can to search the hospitals okay?"
"Our place is like, not equipped for guests, we have lawn furniture and a bed," Tasha says with a laugh that's a bit snuffly and probably hints that she's been crying, though she's managed to keep her voice steady enough to this point. "He called me just a little bit ago. He was okay — sounds like the phones were ringing off the hook, so you know. Crazy busy. But he's okay. He said he didn't see anything."
The wind picks up, and her hair swirls around her face. She cups her hand around the phone to block the no-doubt annoying sound. "I'll get to your house, then we can decide what to do, all right? You shouldn't be alone with a concussion." Her heart is split in two — searching for Colette and caring for her mother. She knows the odds of them finding Colette in the streets of New York are slim, and the few places that Colette might go, she really can't bring Joanna to. "I'll be there within the hour, I think… sounds like everything's running slow, so it might take a little longer."
She doesn't like it. Doesn't like Tasha alone on the street at all. All the craziness going on. "You keep your father on speed dial. Anything happens, you call him and scream, do you understand? If you find Colette, you bring her to our home. Bed and lawn furniture. You will have real furniture by the end of next week" She'll ensure it even if she has to drag the two girls shopping for it. She will. She doens't quite like the idea still, pictures of Tasha being accosted, raped, god knows what while looking for Colette. "Kepe your phone ready, I'll be at the house, I'll have a car ready so we can be ready to look for her"
"Beggars can't be choosers. And its cute lawn furniture. Looks like those chairs they always show with lighthouses and the ocean in the background." Adirondacks, Tasha means. "Just wait on the car — we're not gonna find her just roaming the streets, Mom. I'll call people I know on the way, and see if anyone's seen her. Hell, she might be at her sister's in your building. I'll check there when I get there. See you soon."
Tasha presses the end button and gets up from the orange bench to move toward the stairs that bring her to the lower deck, as the ferry is approaching the docks.
Stupid children who learned to use the end call button faster than their mothers can protest. Joanna pulls the phone away from her ear, looking at it with a sigh. She ends the call too, wrinkling her nose and almost wrinkling her brow - darn you botox - before she starts punching number for a car and driver to take her home. The ice pack picked up and pressed to her head. FOr the next while, it would be nothing but Worry.