Bygone

It’s another alley. This time, Darcy’s hair is immediately plastered to her head by rain. She’s standing ankle deep in swirling water. Wind whips the rain in all directions, and thunder booms overhead.

It’s hard to even walk forward, then the wind shifts and she almost face-plants. She makes it to the street, but she can’t see farther than a few feet in front of her.

During a particularly strong gust of wind she ends up clinging to a sign post.

“Give. Me. Your. Hand!” A man yells.

Darcy turns her face away from the rain and looks. A man is a few feet away, reaching for her. Another man holds his other arm, and clings to the closest building, making a chain.

She lunges for the man, and they tow her in. It’s a barber shop. The man practically shoves her into one of the seats. The water is rising.

“Where did you come from, lady? Are you crazy?” One of the men demands.

“Don’t yell at the poor thing, Amos.” Another man, this one dry and much older, commands. He shoves a paper cup in Darcy’s hand, filled with steaming dark liquid. “Have some coffee.”

Darcy shivers as she takes a sip. She sees a newspaper on the next chair and reaches for it, dripping water onto it. Hurricane Esther!!! , the headlines scream.

September 21, 1957.

 The front window breaks in the wind. The old man covers her with his coat. Two more people come in seeking refuge and the water reaches a foot deep.

Darcy makes a fresh pot of coffee and reads the newspaper. It’s Friday. She figures out where she is. How far it is from Broad and Halls Ferry.

By five-thirty the storm has calmed a little. It’s still pouring, but the wind isn’t uprooting things. Two of the men try to fight her on it, but she leaves.

The current is against her as she slogs to Broad Street. She’s soaked through in a matter of minutes, and shivering again after five.

When she reaches the corner of Broad and Halls Ferry she sees a very nice car parked at the curb with foggy windows. When she draws nearer she finds EJ turned around, arguing with Howard in the back seat. Darcy knocks on the window, and Howard turns.

His eyes go wide, then he bursts out of the back seat and yanks her inside.

“You looked like a drowned rat, kid.” Howard says, shrugging out of his coat. “To the apartment, Jarvis.”

Howard covers her with the coat like a blanket.

It takes them two hours to pull up to a big fancy building near Stark Industries. EJ drops them off at the doors, and the door person rushes forward with a big black umbrella.

The elevator moves swiftly up to the top floor. Howard’s apartment is done in aqua and gleaming gold. All of the furniture is low-slung and modern.

“What’ll it be? Whiskey? Caviar? I can have something delivered.”

“Is jet lag a thing yet?” Darcy asks him, he gives her a blank look mid-pour. “I haven’t slept in twenty-six hours since we were working on the modified compounds and then I was in the middle of a hurricane.”

“Modified compounds?” Howard waves his hand, then holds out her drink. “Bedroom’s through there. Night clothes are in the left armoire.”

By night clothes, he meant ladies night clothes. Nice ones. Darcy prays to Thor they’re clean and pulls on a slip. She wraps a towel around her damp hair and crawls into the large bed.

When she wakes the clock reads nearly noon and the sun is shining through the literal wall of windows. Darcy’s bones ache and she feels a cold coming on.

She drags herself into the shower, pins her hair back, and finds women’s clothes in the other side of the wardrobe. With disbelieving eyes she stares at a pair high-waisted slacks.

“Oh, hells yes. Pants. I love you.” Darcy pulls them free, along with a white button up shirt. Katherine Hepburn-esque.

The pants are a bit tight, even with her girdle, but it’s worth it. Soooo worth it.

Darcy walks out of the bedroom in search of coffee. Howard is at a desk in the living room on the phone.

“I know what you’re saying, and I’m saying no.” Howard barks. “Get the president, I’d like to see him try!”

He hangs up and a woman in a sleek blue dress immediately dials another number while he victoriously pushes a pile of papers away.

“Peg! You called.” Howard leans back in his chair. “I called? Oh! I’ve got her, Peg. Picked her up yesterday.”

The secretary notices Darcy and clears her throat. Then clears it again when Howard ignores her. Then again, even louder.

“Howard!” Darcy calls. “Your secretary would like you to know I’m here.”

He spins in his chair, flapping his hand at the secretary who scurries out of the room. Speaking into the phone, he looks questioningly at Darcy. “Dinner? Tonight?”

Darcy shakes her head and inhales through her nose, giving an impressive sniffle.

“Not tonight. Why don’t you meet us upstate Friday night, make a weekend of it? It’s a plan then!” Howard declares, and Darcy moves on.

The kitchen is all gleaming appliances and empty counter tops. Darcy groans and starts opening cupboards.

“Can I help you, Mrs. Rogers?”

“Holy hellcats, you scared me EJ!” Darcy scowls at him as Howard comes in. “In the morning too. You’re lucky I don’t have my taser.”

“I’m sure, Mrs. Rogers.” EJ responds drily.

“Coffee, Jarvis. She needs coffee.” Howard looks around the kitchen. “Which is here somewhere.”

“Indeed.” EJ says with an arch look.

“What would you like? Jarvis can make everything. Crema? Au lait?”

“I don’t have words to describe how I will feel if you give me a cafe mocha.” Darcy says, honest-to-Thor feeling a bit light headed at the thought. “Which is a big deal. I have a lot of words.”

“A cafe mocha?” EJ frowns at Howard and Howard frowns back.

“A latte? With chocolate? And whipped cream.” Darcy closes her eyes imagining home. Whipped frappe creations with crumbled Oreos on top. Pumpkin lattes in the fall, mint lattes in the winter.

Darcy ends up with something that’s close enough.

The next day, at the mansion, three coffee cups are set in front of her at the breakfast table. She looks up at EJ through bleary eyes, the cold having come on full-scale. “EJ, whaaa?”

“Please choose which is the closest approximation of the beverage to which you are accustomed.” EJ tells her, then sets a golden Kleenex box in front of her.

Darcy sips each and chooses the middle one before wrapping her arms around the tray protectively. “I’m keepinmb dem all.”

“Very well, Mrs. Rogers.” EJ glances towards the door and rolls his eyes. “Mr. Stark would like me to inform you that urgent business has arisen and we’ll see you on Friday.”

“Dum friend you are, Stark!” Darcy yells.