Starring:
Date: March 18, 2010
Summary:
Draw a Line in the Sand, Then Make Stand
When They Act Tough, You Call Their Bluff
"Draw A Line in the Sand"
Central Park — NYC
There are those who are a tad obsessive about things. Tidiness. Cleanliness. Punctuality. Amongst these strange behaviours is the obsessive jogger. Any time of day or night they do this strange exercise. At this time, in this place is the figure of Felicity. Except no jogger she, she's obviously fitter than some middle management drone trying to commit suicide by tachycardia aged forty-seven. She jogs not. She lopes. It's a descriptive word, and she is doing it. Eating up the yards with a long stride, before coming to stop at a bend to take a swig of water and check her watch.
The iconic Central Park is a comfort zone for Amy — a familiar and beautiful place through which to stroll when she has a lot on her mind. And she just so happens to have a lot on her mind. The forty-something therapist takes a post-work stroll — not jog — along a familiar path even though it's a departure from her way home— since she lives near Hope Hearth in Greenwich. It's getting warmer and she takes advantage in a long, flowing white-and-green leaf print dress with just a light knit sweater open over top. As she comes to the bend in the path where the jogger pauses, Amy pushes a pair of white-framed sunglasses up on her head, past red, sideswept bangs, no longer needed as the evening wears on. Spying a bench, she flops rather dramatically on it with a sigh that verges on theatrical.
Felicity hears no sigh. What is this sigh thing that people speak of? She can see an expression of course, and a flopping person always speaks volumes, wether it be in exhaustion, from dramatic effect or a desire to be *really* comfy. She puts her foot against the bench and leans into a stretched hamstring pose. And speaks. "Hey. Isn't it just beautiful? Going to be a lovely evening. Don't you think?" Voice may be a bit broken but the good cheer certainly shines through.
"Hm— ?" Amy is drawn out of her thoughts by the stranger's words (and foot), but her surprise, evidenced by sharply raising brows, is short-lived. After a moment of blinking at Felicity, she's soon smiling genially despite whatever distractions lay heavily on her mind. "It is," she agrees. "And a nicer morning. I might even have to take out ye olde jogging pants myself." Though she's nowhere near as athletic as the woman she's speaking to, Amy at least seems to keep herself in fairly good shape.
Felicity changes legs and beams in enthusiastic encouragement "Good! There's nothing like running and seeing the trees start to bloom. far better than staring at a screen showing MTV or something in a sweaty or air-con frozen gym. Nice dress, by the way. Suits you. You have the colouring for green." She seems to have very little shame in conversation, though there's a hint she is so forcing herself to be forward.
Some people jog, other people play Wii. It's almost the same right? Being of the latter, Micah isn't in the park to jog, stroll, or really do anything other than get some fresh air. Ironically, while most people would likely leave the laptop and other technical gizmos at home, he's opted to bringing his laptop to the park. The teen spies a bench next to the one where the two women are perched and sets his laptop beside him. He doesn't open it though, he just touches it and closes his eyes. Maybe he's resting them?
"Thanks!" Random complements do wonders to lift one's mood. Amy keeps on smiling. "I'm not intense enough to exercise outside below zero degrees, but even then I stay away from MTV," she says with a joking tone, a bit of a smirk tugging her red-painted lips. When the teenager settles down nearby, she glances at him with an odd quirk of her brows, but that's about it.
Felicity looks sidelong and sees Micah settle. She raises a brow at the laptop as well and then shrugs it off. "Takes all sorts." She comments, then continues with her stretches "I don't even own a TV set. Ca't hear them and the images in my head are better. Books. prose. Poetry. The words paints a picture far richer than reality most of the time. And after work, I like to unwind not have commercials blare in my face. Bad tv can give you a headache even when you can't hear it"
Micah lifts his hand from the laptop as his lips quirk upwards into a grin. He heard Felicity's comments about television and being a technopath of sorts, he's amused by the notion of only reading. But he stays quiet, even if he is, obviously, eavesdropping.
Amy can't help but smile once more, her expression somewhat reflective as she regards Felicity. "Well hey," she says with a dip of her head. Seeming to have some measure of familiarity with deafness, she looks straight at the woman as she speaks, assuming she's reading lips. "Good for you, that's kind of beautiful."
The answering smile on Felicity's lips is one that might speak to a kindred soul. "This is a strange world, filled with images of war, of hate, of cruelty. Every newspaper and Tv report shows you the pain, and yes - that is news. People need to know. But wonderful things are a single 'human interest' piece and people just don't seem to care so much. Maybe if we reported an equal amount of the wonderful beauty of human spirit to one another, things might be better." She shrugs and then turns to sit as well. "Well. It's a nice idea but people are not so caring any more, I guess."
At this the hero-in-training Micah Sanders, must object. "I think people care," he interjects. Although, considering Felicity can't hear him, this could be a useless interjection. He pulls his laptop onto his lap now. "Lots of people care; they just don't know how to change the world. I bet more people would do things if they knew what to do. They just need… good leaders…." And then he adds with a weak smile, "…and heroes."
Such an insightful conversation in the middle of Central Park with a stranger seems a little odd, and Amy gives Felicity a curious, amused look for a moment, but hey — only in New York, right? She certainly agrees with much of the woman's words and her eyes say as much. It's the teenager's sudden interjection that really surprises her. "I could talk for hours on how negative media affects people's perceptions of the world and their— whole lives, but that's the psychiatrist in my talking. Anyway. Yeah. I think you're both totally right."
Both? There's two of her? This makes Flick seem a little alarmed, but she looks behind her and sees Micah, then realises what was going on. She nods politely "Good afternoon." And then she continues to Amy's words, as she heard nothing from Micah. "You're a psychiatrist? Ah well, preaching to the converted I know. But random acts of kindness help. I try to do good deeds for people when I can. It isn't difficult. Small effort to help someone who needs it. What does it cost?"
"I've seen people care, but then they feel like — like they can't do anything to make things better. But anyone can make things better if they work with other people," of this Micah is certain. "Like, I'm just a kid, right? No one expects me to do anything for anyone else, but I could… be a hero if I wanted. I could stop a thief or" his gaze shifts to the ground "save a life if I had the chance… I bet even I could start a revolution. All it takes is effort and organization." His lips twitch a little before he shrugs, "It isn't the politicians who change the world, it's the people who stand up for what is right, no matter what the cost is to themselves. Now those are worldchangers."
"Hey, hold up now, I wouldn't say converted, no one's perfect! I'm a New Yorker after all," Amy says, though it's mostly joking, spoken lightly and with a wide smile. "But yes. I'm the Executive Director over at Hope Hearth in Greenwich — it's a distress center. Non-profit. We do what we can," she says with a smile and a shrug, shoulder lifting and not quite reaching the tips of her hair. She really and truly regards Micah now, almost bewildered by the boy's apparent wisdom beyond his years — she fell for the same trap of expecting him to be 'just a kid', she realizes. "You're somethin' else, aren't you. Rock on, kid. Vive la revolucion."
Felicity can't watch both at the same time so it is just possible she is missing things, caught between the two of them as she is in this position. But she keeps up as best she can with all this. Firstly, to Amy, she says "I know the place. I approve. That's just the sort of thing I might have done if life had been a bit different. I still might, who knows. I think actually doing hands on work for disaster relief is far more meaningful than a few cents in a collecting tin." And then to Micah> She might have missed the revolutionary speech, it seems. Or chooses to not comment on it. "People should stand up. I do. I take a stand. I draw the line. I say what is and is not right as I see it." She then furrows her brow slightly "I also get told I don't fit in and with my academic record could have had professorship by now if I wasn't such a loudmouth on some topics. But I don't believe in compromising on ethics. I see where you're at, young man. And I don't really want to be a worldchanger. Saver, perhaps. That has a more positive ring."
"I think savers and worldchangers are one in the same, sometimes, though," Micah says with a sigh. Considering everything that's gone on over the last six months, he's convinced at this moment they're the same — his resolve is clear in his voice, and emphasized by his earnest expressions outwardly (namely his small smile, wide eyes, and raised eyebrows). "It's not just about drawing lines though. I mean, it's important to recognize when enough's enough, but drawing a line isn't always enough. We draw lines in the sand all of the time and the government" and then as if trying to cover he says just a little too quickly " — or some other large bully — walks over it. When we stand together we call their bluff… it's just hard getting people to believe they need to stand together…"
The teenager once again surprises Amy, and she sits back against the bench, crosses her legs and just listens for awhile. Thoughtful, reflective, her eyes narrow around the time Micah says 'government' and she can't help but think back on her friend's bizarre story, drawing a parallel here and there. "Everyone could always do more but standing together's still done a lot of good over the years," she points out. "We'd still be living in the seventeenth century if it didn't. Well. So to speak! The year would… still change… anyay. The mindset. The— laws." Amy waits to make sure Felicity is glancing her way before she pipes up. again. "We're always accepting volunteer applications, by the way. The psyche of most of New York is a disaster zone in and of itself."
Felicity nods to Amy's words about disaster relief volunteering, but her eyes are slightly distant now, in thought. She turns to look at Micah and speaks, subdued but obviously getting where he is coming from. "I've seen that line crossed a time or two myself, for one reason or another. And it's not always the government who draws them. I do try to stand side by side with people at such times but it isn't so easy. Either they won't stand or. Well." She breaks off then and shrugs "I've had people say they don't like my politics. my academic theories. My being -Deaf_!" She throws the last out as if she had three heads. What a wacky idea, Kiddos!
"But people can't stand if they don't believe there's danger," Micah observes before biting his bottom lip. "The government does a lot to pretend that it's protecting its citizens when it's actually …" he clamps his mouth shut before attempting to recover, "…I mean, look Nazi Germany or any other ethnic cleanse. The government claimed to be helping people by relocating troublemakers, but it just ended up staining a country's otherwise, not-terrible, reputation and resulting in a huge loss of life. Not to mention the loss of human development that those lives could've contributed to mankind in general." He shrugs at his attempt to recover while drumming his fingers on his laptop.
Amy shakes her head as if she can't believe anyone would say those things to Felicity, though of course she can. She gives the well-spoken deaf woman a smile which lingers with a sort of wonder as she listens to Micah. "Well. Yeah. No doubt about that. Governments in general have a bad rep for doing the wrong thing masked as the right thing, it's old as politics itself but at least… well at least we don't live in Nazi Germany, right? Not that we're perfect… but at least we have free speech if we wanna stand up for something." On that note, the redhead glances down the path, her brow furrowing in a distracted fashion. She fights a frown.
Felicity perches on the bench know, lotus-position, which seemed to look normal and easy for her, even if it is meant to be difficult. She lets her fingers steeple in front of her lips as she studies the random park-type conversation people. And then, after a long moment she asks Micah a question. "It's not quite so easy, I think - history teaches us that people who try get caught up in the cure and become part of the problem. I dislike that and I'd want to change it if I could. But it's all small steps making big ones. This is big picture stuff. So, tell me. If you could change one thing, just one thing as a starting point - what would it be?"
"We think we do anyways," Micah says smirking at the idea of free speech. "Yet they can make people be quiet if they want." He grins a little at Felicity. "It's not one problem though. I used to think it was one problem. And then after that was taken care of, I learned the problems were bigger than I thought and deeper than I thought. So right now, if I could change one thing… I would…" He furrows his eyebrows as he contemplates the change he would make, "…well it depends how incredible the solution could be. And who the real source of the problem is. I'm still figuring that out. But, maybe… maybe the starting point would be to bring people together. Find a way to gather the masses who need to be involved… and I could do that. It's just… I have no plan this time, you know?"
The random conversation isn't turning Amy away from her previous thoughts as much as she thought it was at first. Funny how everything has a way of coming back around like that. "You sound like you have a lot on yer mind," she tells Micah, giving him a rather curious up-and-down examination as the talk manages to become more specific and more vague at the same time. "Hey." The therapist stretches her legs out and whisks back to her feet. "Nice meeting you folks, I should get going." She turns to Micah, "Good luck… with your big picture." To the lotus-posed woman, she smiles, "Drop by Hope Hearth some time. I have a feeling you'd be an inspiration around there."
Felicity smiles at Amy in reassurance "I will. Depend on it, I will come by. Very soon. I'm Flick. Felicity. And I WILL be seeing you." But her attention comes back to Micah. "That's it. The thing that brings people together, that is the core of any process. And people take it so much for granted that when it isn't there, and everything is falling apart, they don't even notice it's gone. Trust me. I lived my whole life loving and cherishing it because I can't hear. To me communication is a beautiful gift. When you get like minded people to see that, and realise that just sharing their mutual affinities can create a vessel that no storm can ever sink: then the world?" She smiles a seraphic smile. "It changes. In a myriad different ways, but for those touched, it grows and you feel a mile high. If you can do that, then yes, you can do more or less anything. It's simply a matter of perspective." She then hops to her feet and flips a business card with her name and email on it towards Micah. "I have to finish my run. You drop me a line. If you're really serious, we can talk sometime. I'll tell you why this post-Nietzschian world we live in still needs people who just tootin' well give a darn." And with that, she's off. And boy, she can shift when she wants to. And, some might say, knows how to make an exit.