Chronological markers: this scene fits like a deleted scene from season 2. It takes place during the flashback at the beginning of episode 3, in the months preceding the 02:40 scene in San Francisco.
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May 24th 1963, Dallas, USA, 01:42 pm
How many people has Dallas grown in just two years? Even if - in this suburban area - it's perhaps less noticeable, the business districts are taking on the colors of the major economic center this city will become. 'Growth', 'progress', 'household consumption', 'GDP' and 'international influence' are concepts that are hurting our proto-hippie souls. Just like segregation and inequality of all kinds, almost assumed by our 1963 America.
Our return was particularly violent, three months ago.
I've seen the 'Destiny's Children' take more than a week to dare cross the estate gates for provisions, start to fear the outside world, turn even more inward on their community. I've seen dozens of them get hand tattoos, and cling to pop or R&B Vedas. I've seen them start to dye all their clothes 'Tiffany-blue' - a brand that Beyoncé will one day be the face of - simply because Klaus referred to it as 'iconic' over lunch. Their devotion is joyful, but blind. Just before leaving for San Francisco, he didn't even need to quote them a single spiritual verse: to be left in peace, he made them 'commune with the music' by whistling a random note. No matter which one. I don't think he's aware that he's become a guru, but I think he's realized that I'd rather live another apocalypse than contemplate this any longer.
The atmosphere is that of Fridays, in the humble lanes linking the lower neighborhoods to the sidewalks of Avon Street. A couple of guys passing by have already commented that they don't like half my lineage, and I've ventured to tell them that their own ancestors would be ashamed of them for being such assholes. I'm aware that - unlike many of the people they pick on - I can make myself intangible, invisible, and teleport away if needed. I'm not afraid of answering them, unlike many. It's easy to take risks when there's nothing to fear. But since I can do it: then my little insult will also be in the name of all those who are forced to remain silent.
I cross the street in front of Rosati and Sons: Wayne Wilson's house is nearby, behind the Avon movie theatre. The old nurseryman has never really left my memory, even during our wanderings. In April, Jill and I were able to sow most of the seeds in his satchel, alongside rows of Indian marigolds brought back from Varanasi. On the Mansion's flowerbeds, which will soon be decked out in gold for several months. Kitty, who is staying to take care of her health, will make sure that her gardeners take good care of them. Her health is clearly declining. I don't think she can be sure of seeing them bloom beyond late spring.
I was with her when Priscilla's colorful body - crowded to the roof - drove through the gate surrounded by a procession of other honking vehicles, heading for San Francisco. It was just goodbye for me; for her, I don't know. Klaus reluctantly left, sitting looking back, on Priscilla's roof. It had been a long time since I'd seen him so bleak. Telephone service is definitely available in 'The City by the Bay': I think he'll agree to use that technology, but I'm under no illusions. I gave Jill the number of my first motel, because I know it will take him less than a week to lose it.
My eyes dart to the spot where he'd parked the Dodge Polara the day he picked me up here. I confess that walking like this near the alley where I literally crashed in 1961 feels strange, as if this memory is lost in another life. Before the Ganges waters, the northern lights and the menudo. Before I chose to reinject myself into society after all, at the crossroads of those who preferred to leave it behind. And I wonder once again if we're still 'alone', or if 'the others' have arrived too. I know that Klaus was also dropped into that very alley by the time vortex. Perhaps we all have.
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