Chapter Twelve: Albany

Chapter Twelve

Albany

In late October Albany is visually spectacular, at least in the area of South Park where we lived.  The trees were flaming yellow, red, and orange, where leaves remained on the trees, and bare where they didn’t.  The old Victorian architecture with a slightly Dutch accent was quaint and charming.  Store fronts, coffee shops, bars and cafes line the walk along Madison Avenue as we neared Washington Park.

It had been a month and a half since I had left the apartment.  Since that day when I woke up, not sure of who I was, there at the base of the King Fountain (the one with Moses) in the park.

I was dressed in a borrowed pair of jeans and a Doctor Who tee and flannel shirt that belonged to Jill, as I had no intention of wearing the only other garment I owned, my supervillain suit.

“I swear, Jackie,” I said as we crossed Washington Ave towards the park, “I don’t remember anything.  I don’t know the Golden Speedster and have no idea why I would be his arch-nemesis.  Aside from what you and Clarity have told me, I know nothing about this.”

“And Clarity hasn’t figured out what happened to your memory?” Jackie asked.

“Nope.  She just says it’s probably some sort of glitch from the Velocity Field.  She says it wears off in two weeks.  Or, will wear off, now that I can walk again.  All this time travel stuff is kinda hard to believe though, honestly.”

“Have you asked Clarity why you’re supposed to hate the Golden Speedster?”  Jill asked.

“No. What does it matter?  I have no intention of becoming the Dark Runner, or again, whatever.”

As we walked on the gravel path towards the formal garden section of the park, Jackie and Jill caught Pokemon on their phones.  They were mildly addicted, Jackie more than Jill.

“Shiny Drifloon!” cried Jackie, triumphantly.

“What’s your plan then, Alex?”  Jill wondered.  “Are you gonna get a job?  You can’t leech off two poor trans women forever, you know?”

“I’ll make it up to you.  I’ll pull my weight, now that I’m strong enough to move around.”  I assured them.  “Don’t worry about that.”

When we got to the King Fountain at the center of the formal garden, I felt oddly somber.  The October sky was thick with grey clouds   The flower beds were empty and barren, just recently turned over topsoil, frosted with a light coating of lime.  The spot which was once full of color and botanical beauty, was now bare and depressing, waiting for a new beginning in the future. I knew how it felt.

Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt