Foston Slacks - Good's Intentions

39

She had expected chaos. Mass hysteria. Gnashing of teeth and people screaming that the end of the world was nigh. Instead, it looked exactly the same as the previous times she had witnessed the scene. A quick glance to the end of the street and she saw no sign of the massive, out-of-control, transformed Breach that had towered over the houses. Because, she realised, that hadn't happened yet.

Foston had gathered the others in the middle of the pavement. Time didn't look too good. That was normal, but he didn't look well, either. In fact, he looked more than a little see-through. She couldn't tell if that was an improvement. All around, people sidestepped the group, without thinking, continuing their normal progression.

"Right. Time, Effort. You're job is to keep Johnny away from Clara, at all costs. Good, you're with me. We need to stand in the exact spot where you nudged Johnny towards Clara. And Clara, keep yourself occupied." Foston looked almost competent. Like a leader. Trying not to admire him for it, Clara pulled out her mobile phone, running through her apps. "Clara? What are you doing?"

"You said keep myself occupied." She waggled her phone towards him. "I thought I'd check my messages."

"No, you blithering idiot!" He rubbed his eyes with one hand and pointed to the other side of the street with his other. "Keep your other self occupied. If she and Johnny meet, regardless of what Good and I do, everything will still happen. You know, blissful home-life and only the end of everything!"

She looked across the road and saw herself stumbling through the morning crowds, as she had seen at least half-a-dozen times by now. She still retroactively hated those shoes. With a determined thumbs-up, she set off across the street, avoiding vehicles as she ran. She saw the others set off, too. Effort carrying Time. Foston and Good racing towards the post box.

A sudden squeal of brakes caught her attention before she reached herself, her head whipping around in time to see Good pinwheeling through the air over the top of a black cab. She hesitated, wondering if she cared enough to go check on him, but he jumped up from the ground almost immediately.

"I'm okay! It's fine!" With his hands in the air, as though surrendering, Good shouted towards everyone that wasn't looking. Which was everyone but those in their group. "Nothing to see here!"

Satisfied that she didn't have to fake sympathy, she turned back to her task, only to find she had lost herself. She spun around on the heels of her comfortable, practical boots, unable to see herself anywhere. The only task she had and she had already blown it. Desperate, she jumped on a nearby wall, searching the milling people for sign of that unmovable, concrete-like hair.

"Oh, my god! I've called a hooker!" Clara had never realised how loud she had shouted that and felt more than a little embarrassed about it. She saw herself as an old granny waddled past, tutting and calling her previous self a slut.

She jumped from the wall, pushing past people until she came close to her previous self and then had no clue what to do. This was a Clara that hadn't yet fallen through the Breach. Hadn't met Foston, or seen a surprisingly large number of alternate versions of herself. She had no idea how she would react and that felt weird, because it was, in actual fact, her that she was trying to understand.

With a shake of the head, she continued to follow herself, working through a number of different scenarios. The long-lost-twin idea became rejected. It was never twins that worked in real life. The thought of telling herself that, yes, Linda had in fact drugged her the night before, also had to be rejected. This version of her had not thought of that yet.

Unable to think of anything remotely plausible, Clara dug her hands into the pockets of her shiny space jacket, her fingers curling around a familiar object. She considered it. Gave it a lot of consideration, but it almost felt like a self-betrayal. Except, Clara had almost reached the spot where she would meet Johnny. The very same spot where she would, in another time, step into the Breach. She had to do something, and fast. She tapped herself on the shoulder.