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

Chapter 16: The crossroads of our lives

Chronological markers: this scene fits like a deleted scene from The Umbrella Academy, saison 2, episode 4, around 39:00 (after Klaus went to get drunk, and before he ended up crashing at Allison's). TW: homophobic insults.

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Monday, November 18 1963, 12:48 pm

I decided that today I wouldn't stress like I did yesterday. That I wouldn't spend my morning with the knot in my stomach I kept all afternoon yesterday, waiting for Klaus to finally go on a fruitless tour of the Katz hardware store. I've also decided to relax about the fact that my work is doomed to failure. No one is bound to do the impossible: so there's no reason for me to get ulcerated about it.

I allowed myself a break. I took my huge mug of coffee out onto the store's stoop, on the only step of which I'm currently sitting in the sun. The florist across the street still doesn't greet me, but I don't care. Mr Davies, an Englishman who lives around the corner, passes by with his dog and waves to me. I literally saved his calculating machine ten days ago. A rather complex German Brunsviga type. And what I didn't tell him was that - by connecting it by energy to all the repaired TV sets - I managed to reprogram the jammed channels in one go.

For a moment, I turn my eyes to the window of the Katzes' shop, where the small sign currently indicates the lunchtime closure. They take a lot of time for a brunch they started at 11 am. Am I - without admitting it - waiting for them to come back? I dismiss the idea and look up at the Dallas autumn sky, clear of any clouds. And just then, I see Brian and David coming around the corner, as if my fleeting thought had conjured them up.

Brian walks ahead, his hands in his pockets and his cigarette to his lips. He's got a closed expression, as usual, but also paradoxically satisfied. David walks behind him, a Coke in his hand, with an indescribable look that I can only qualify as stunned, or dazed. Like some kind of discreet state of shock, which one could easily overlook. Mr Davies doesn't notice, as he wishes them a good day before crossing the street. Brian takes out his bunch of keys and reopens the door of his store, turning the sign back to 'open'.

"I'm staying outside to finish my Coke," David tells him, and I know it's because he's seen me. I take a large swig of coffee. Brian shrugs silently, pulls the outside displays out of the store - including the broom rack - then disappears inside as the glass door closes.

"Hey," I say to David. "It's been a few days."

His eyes are a little unfocused, and he suddenly seems to snap out, and come and sit next to me on the narrow step. I shift, making room for him. Even at seventeen, he's already wider than Klaus, which I find both amusing and sad, today. And he twirls his Coke between his young fingers.

"I thought you'd stopped coming out on the balcony at lunchtime."
I let my eyes wander to the sidewalk.
"A friend of mine is back in town."

He nods as if he understands perfectly, and I ask him, with a frown that I hope he won't notice:

"How did it go at Stadler's? I heard there was trouble."
I'm talking about last night's riot, of course, but it's not the association of ideas that seems to come to him first, because he lets out a deep sigh.
"I didn't want to do that. Brian's the one who told me to punch that queer."

I wasn't expecting that. I really wasn't. For a moment, my stomach feels like it's filling up with ice water, even though I'm drinking hot coffee. Almost startled, I turn my head towards him, even though he's far too close for me to see his whole face.

"What?"

I don't even pretend not to understand. The question passed my lips on its own, like I couldn't hold it back. And David closes his eyes for a moment, his lids tight as if trying to find out if what had just happened was real.