Ch. V
She isn't trying for stealth; she knows her footfalls echo and reverberate off the sides of the buildings like the constant rhythm of a drumbeat, keeping time for nothing. And those footsteps sound unnaturally loud to her ears, not really appreciating until this very moment just how much impact one person makes in their environment during the course of their everyday activities, once all other sounds are no longer present to mask and absorb the effect. Therefore, in her mind at least, it goes with out saying this is the reason she feels just a little surprised that her presence isn't noticed sooner by the naked middle-aged man apparently bathing out in broad daylight. He appears lost in his own little world, humming something she doesn't recognize as he pours water from a mug over his hair. She wonders idly, were she to believe she was the last human; would she bathe outside in the nude? She smiles privately. She knows the answer to that one.
She decides it is rude to simply stand and stare, admiring the not-so-perfect physique of a man she only somewhat knows. She pointedly coughs; a mock throat clearing she hopes will not startle too much. And of course, it does. He whirls around as fast and wild as a tornado, or a creature acting solely on instinct, and she can almost see the long, flowing cape he used to wear back when they were both in the same line of work, cascading around and around like a ferocious wind.
"Jesus Christ," he breathes. "Where the hell did you come from." His eyes are wide and face bone white. And it isn't so much a question as it is a demand. Her presence is disturbing. What if their assumptions were wrong? What if he was wrong? What if…
"Dan, I'm so sorry for…"
Then, as if hearing his own name in some way unlocks a secret enchantment, he remembers just who and where he is. He is, in fact, a man standing in front of his guest in his birthday suit. He quickly grabs his washcloth and covers for modesty. His face turns a very interesting shade of pink, and Laurie unsuccessfully tries to stifle a small chuckle.
"You have…" she starts, and finishes her sentence with a vague motion of her hand toward her hair.
"What?" he asks, softly. He mimics her motion to his own hair, and comes away with a handful of suds. He grins sheepishly.
"Oh, I'm just gonna…" he hooks his thumb toward the front door, and moves to collect his clothing.
She picks up the mug and the bucket of water and follows him inside.
"Be right back," he says, before disappearing up the stairs.
She wanders into the kitchen and empties the bucket in the sink before placing it and the mug on the counter.
She spots a calendar hanging on a wall near the table. Owls of North America. She casually flips through the months, only vaguely noticing the natural settings changing with the seasons. She likes December best, a large white bird with a funny face sitting on a white-blanketed pine tree. She thinks of snow, floating softly down, down in a small plastic-domed world. She notices a tiny ceramic owl on the stove, and gently picks it up from its little home there. Shit. She isn't sure why, but she suddenly remembers something Jon mentioned earlier. Rorschach is here, too. Joy. That means he is in the house somewhere. She sets the figurine back on the stove and walks slowly toward a door on the other side of the kitchen, left wide open.
When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, the first thing she notices is the large round brown ship. It is beautiful up close. What it must have taken to build it. It's actually pretty cool. This thing once was a staple of the night skies over the city, its huge eyes keeping an almost omnipresent watch of the guilty and innocent alike. She reaches out to touch the hull.
"Miss Jupiter," a gruff voice mutters from somewhere within the cavernous space of the basement. (She does not jump.) She narrows her eyes, and scans for the little weirdo. He is hiding somewhere down here like a rat, and she is convinced his sole raison d'être is just to creep her out.
"Where are you, you asshole," she says, defensive stance, ready for anything. She probably should feel bad for speaking to him this way. She doesn't. "And it's Juspeczyk. 'Jupiter' is just something my mother…"
"Don't care," the voice interrupts. "Care only why you are here." A small redheaded man slinks out of the shadows like smoke slowing filling a room. His arms are folded sternly over a white A-shirt, ice-blue eyes fixed intensely on her, as if he could see inside her, see deep in her brain, read her very thoughts. She throws her shoulders back and her chin up.
"Jesus, is that what you look like without that sack? No wonder you never took it off."
"Hey." A voice from atop the stairs drifts down to the two bickering schoolchildren. They turn to look for its source simultaneously. Dan descends the stairs wearing a sweater-vest over a plain-buttoned shirt, and a pair of light brown slacks. My god. He's a high school English teacher. His hair is still wet and plastered back, save for an unruly lick in the front, curling upward as if to escape and fly off on its own.
"Laurie," Dan begins, places his hands up in a vague placating manner, as if expecting an argument. "I - I had no idea. I really thought, well, I guess it's stupid, huh?" You know what they say about assumptions. His hand wanders to his hair as if it had a mind of its own, and pushes the errant strand from his eyes. "I feel like an ass."
"Working on what we could observe, Daniel. Not to blame for underestimating situation. Suggest we sweep the city, perhaps will find others left behind. Miss Juspeczyk could prove to be a valuable asset in our search. Provide another pair of eyes."
"Guys, guys. It's not like that. I asked Jon to bring me here."
Rorschach makes a deep growl, clearly a sound meant to convey intense disapproval. Any good will Rorschach may have been willing to offer dissipates like an early morning fog lifting with the sun. "Likely orchestrated this. Tell me,what does the great Doctor Manhattan intend with a world devoid of humans? Perhaps current situation is unexpected result of some sick government experiment conducted on an unknowing populace…"
"Jesus! Is everything a goddamn conspiracy with you? Jon didn't do this. He…"
"Is only one who knows the truth. Need you to answer…"
"All right, look. Fighting like this isn't going to accomplish anything. Let's just go upstairs, I'll make us some coffee, and Laurie, you can tell us what's going on. Okay?"
Dan looks pointedly at Rorschach. "Okay?"
Rorschach turns his back to the others and wordlessly trudges up the stairs. Dan offers Laurie a silent apology.
***
Dan passes Laurie a mug full of hot coffee, no milk, extra sugar. Rorschach takes lots of milk and lots of sugar. Dan's mug is more moderate with not too much of either.
She talks about a misty warm world with ethereal music, strings and universes, time and relativity. She doesn't think she understands most of what she is relaying, is sure she's not getting the details right. The brunet looks interested but bemused, while the redhead looks dubious.
"Okay," Dan says, slowly, carefully. He works his words around his mouth prudently, lest they betray a gnawing skepticism. "Every living thing has somehow been swept away to another universe," he lifts his eyebrows before continuing, "but they are all going to be okay because, time is relative, and what has felt like days to us is only like a second, or something? I mean, I didn't have an explanation for what happened, but that's pretty out there."
"Yeah, basically. I mean, I'm sure Jon could explain it better, but everybody is going to come back, and they'll more or less be none the wiser."
"We will know," Rorschach offers, and for reasons Laurie cannot pin down, she thinks somewhere in those words lies a threat, like a spring-loaded trap.
"And?" Laurie glares at him. "This wasn't anybody's fault, just a freak accident of nature."
And suddenly, as if on cue there is a loud SNAP!like an over stretched rubber band rebounding back before breaking apart. The cacophony of horns, and talking, and yelling, whooshing of cars flying past the house, and it's all too much. They, all three of them, instinctively cover their ears, and rush to front door to see.
***