A bend in space-time (Season 2) - The Umbrella Academy

Chapter 13: Lemonade by the pool

Chronological markers: this scene fits like a deleted scene from The Umbrella Academy, saison 2, épisode 3, around 14:30 (at the end of the scene in which Allison talks with Klaus by the pool at Kitty's mansion).

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Sunday, November 17 1963, 10:04 a.m.

It's with both relief and apprehension that I have watched the day break over Kitty's house. The first rays of sunlight glided across the white sheets, the marbled colonades, the railings and ceilings. It's going to be a beautiful day, and it's already incredibly warm for my November standards. I shudder at the thought of Klaus talking to David at the Katzes' hardware store this afternoon. But I'm - deep down - happy to see him determined.

All we found in the kitchen cupboards this morning was enough to make coffee, a bottle of lemonade that hadn't been opened yet, and a packet of more or less shredded crackers. Oh, and cigarettes, on which Klaus literally threw himself. He hadn't touched tobacco since 2019 and The City... but circumstances make it necessary this morning for him to cope. I was able to take a cold shower - the water having not yet been turned off - after forcing him to sweep the bathroom of his own cropped hair. Hell, without exaggeration, there was enough there to stuff a pillow.

While he floats in the large ornamental basin he uses as a swimming pool 'trying to think', I gather my things to leave for work. Deliveries from suppliers, the resumption of TV repairs, profits to be calculated for all this avalanche of incoming cash. In two weeks, Merelec will have made a year's turnover. I have been honest with Lloyd, telling him that Klaus was back and needed me at Kitty's house. I won't lie to him: I don't know how to do that anyway.

Lloyd knows Klaus well, in fact, having been one of the 'Destiny's Children'. One of the least wacky, for sure. And one of those who saw through this budding cult the earliest. He's well aware of my history with Klaus, of our connection, too. We were all hipipies together, remember. But Lloyd was also one of the first to set sail, and in our relationship - in a way - it suited him very well that Klaus was in San Francisco.

I grab my bag and give up trying to put on my perfecto. God, it's hot. I'm not even surprised to find Klaus in his swimsuit in the pool at 10 a.m. in November, even though it's full of leaves, having not been cleaned for a fortnight. I walk through the living room, out onto the terrace at the back of the house, intending to tell him I'm off to work... and at that moment - amidst the quiet silence of the gardens where the marigolds bloom - I hear a voice causing my footsteps to stop.

Indistinct at first, it becomes clearer amid the crunch of gravel under my feet, beneath the Dallas sun. A woman's voice, which I gradually recognize, in disbelief. My eyes open wide and my pace quickens along with my pulse. Over there, on the poolhouse terrace, Klaus is talking to Allison. Allison, whom we lost in the bend in space-time, almost three years ago. Allison who - deep down - I have missed.

"I couldn't speak for a year", I hear her say as I approach the terrace, and I feel my heart clench.

I'm incredibly relieved to hear her able to speak out loud again. Flashes of that day when we found her bloodied at the cabin by the lakes come back to me. Just like our last hours together, when she could only express herself through a notepad. I stop at the threshold of the poolhouse, behind her back, as she replies to an apologetic Klaus:

"No, it's okay", she tells him. "I actually like who I am 'without it'. Everything I have, I've earned, and it feels ~really~ good".

I stand motionless behind her, gazing at her back in her orange floral dress, cinched at the waist with a brown leather belt. Klaus has spotted me but says nothing, behind Kitty's red sunglasses, too small for him. Really, Allison has no idea how he must feel to hear that - she - can simply put her power aside by keeping quiet, and choose to live 'without it', as she's just said. He, can't do that, and it doesn't even seem to cross her mind, from the way she addresses him. I keep thinking that Allison is blind to what her brother has been going through, day after day for all these years. And as if painfully trying to confirm this, she adds, watching him float on his pink inflatable mat: