53 Ganymede

Episode 2 - Unexpected Company

The subway breathes. Exhale; doors open and a steady stream of people pours out into the brightly lit station. Inhale; another stream flows in, filling the emptied car once more. The doors close, a breath held, as the train submerges back into the darkness of the tunnel. A light ahead, another station. Stop. Doors open. Breathe.

Claire Brown watches this process repeat itself many times, her head leaning against the cold window of the train. She sits alone, though many people surround her. She loves this feeling: the comforting anonymity of a busy city. Without anyone to recognize her she is no one — a liberation from expectations and the rigid confines of identity. Simultaneously, she could beanyone. Stripped of all ties, she has a chance to rebuild herself anew.

She smiles, watching the darkness pass by her window. When yet another island of light approaches, she reaches for the canvas shopping bags on the floor beside her feet. The subway slows to a halt and she hefts them up, heading for the door.

Moving through the busy station is less a conscious act than a matter of current. The milling people press her up the stairs and out onto the thoroughfare. Sagging clouds obscure the sun and she hurries to orient herself, searching for the street that will lead her home. She rushes along, readjusting the bags on her shoulders.

The rain starts slowly, but the drops are substantial and Claire chastises herself for not thinking to buy an umbrella. She glances down at the contents of her bags. Many items are in plastic packaging. The towels and clothes she can dry. It is the paper bag of cat food that makes her hesitate. She slows her stride, looking up at the sky and then back down to the winding street. It is a ten minute walk, at least. She sighs and looks around for a place to take shelter. Or maybe somewhere she can buy an umbrella.

There are a number of restaurants here, interspersed with some boutique shops. A chocolate store. A hair salon. A tiny art gallery. Nothing that seems likely to have an umbrella, and so she opts for sweet-smelling cafe where she can hide until the rain lets up. She hopes it will let up.

The glass case by the counter is filled with tempting treats — cookies, squares, tarts, pies. She chooses a morning-glory muffin and orders a Chai tea. When her order arrives she finds a comfortable seat by the window, pulling her bags in and under the table so that they will not trip nearby patrons or staff. She watches the winding trails of rain on the glass and tries not to think about what she will do if the storm worsens instead of relents. If only she had a book to read the moment would be perfect. The image of a familiar shelf, overflowing with books, rises unbidden to her mind. She wishes she had chosen at least one to accompany her on this journey, but they hadn't felt like hers to take.

"Kitty!" a small girl near the counter shouts, pulling away from her older brother's grip and drawing Claire's attention.

"Rory! Come back here!" The boy is young too, perhaps eight years old. His sister looks to be two or three. Both are a mess of brown curls and freckles, unmistakeably siblings.

The girl rushes towards Claire, pointing towards her table. "Kitty! Look Wessy – kitty!"

Claire looks around, searching for the source of the girl's excitement. She notices the grey tabby on the cat food package sticking out of one of her bags. The boy notices it at the same time and comes to a halt, his attention flickering from the bag and up to Claire.

The little girl stops at Claire's knees and points at the bag. "Cat food."

Claire smiles, enjoying her unexpected company. "You're right! Do you have a kitty?"

"Mhm," the little girl nods.

"No you don't," the boy says, coming up slowly behind her. He stands awkwardly, staring at Claire. He thinks for a moment, "Doyou have a cat?"