Piper Addison (makemywayhome) wrote in nevermore_au, @ 2013-09-02 02:03:00 |
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Current mood: | accomplished |
Who: Piper Addison & Lewis Carroll
What: Sometimes, if you're really very lucky, you get another chance. Even if the 'don't fuck it up' is always implied.
When: Starts in 2015, then jumps forward about 150 years
Where: Washington DC, various places, then the Smithsonian
Warnings: Talk of abortion and reproductive rights, see also: laws Liz would pass if she had any sort of power (JFC, I wrote a novel. o_O)
Piper hadn't meant to be in Washington that day at all. It was purely luck. But she'd gotten a lead on an antique cabinet that was supposed to have belonged to J.M. Barrie, and wanted to see if it was the real deal. If it was, she was going to try and convince Charles to buy it and bring it back to the shop. If nothing else, it'd make a great talking point. She'd packed a bag for a short trip, took her camera with her, and rented a car to drive down to DC.
The cabinet turned out to be authentic, and she took some pictures to email to Charles once she got back to her hotel. She was leaving the owners' house, and since she had some time on her hands, decided to walk around the city for a while. She bought a map, and once she'd oriented herself, set off for the Capitol. She was certainly not expecting the sea of women swarming around the steps, and had to ask one of them what was going on.
"They're about to announce if the new law has passed," the woman told her breathlessly. "Among other things, it'll make it easier to get abortions, no more jumping through hoops. It could be a huge leap forward for reproductive rights. It'll give funding back to Planned Parenthood and give the states money for clinics."
"That...that would change everything," Piper breathed.
"Right?!" her companion said excitedly, squeezing her hand. "It should be any minute now."
Piper stayed with the crowd of women, milling around and talking to some of them while they all waited. Her moving around had brought her to the front of the crowd, only a few rows back from the building. And then, without warning, a murmuring started up in the crowd. It got louder and more widespread, until Piper could feel it in her bones. And then the cheering started, hugging and crying and fists shoved in the air in triumph.
Piper was swept up into her own round of hugs, woman after woman that she didn't know and would probably never see again. But that hardly mattered, because she knew she'd witnessed history today. It was one of those moments that there was no going back from, and that could only be a good thing.
Traveling through the crowd had swept her to the very front, at the foot of the steps, and that was when she noticed them. A woman kneeling on the ground, chin tucked to her chest, tears streaming down her face even as she smiled. Another woman knelt behind her, arms around her shoulders, her head tucked into the first woman's neck.
Even years later, Piper wouldn't be able to exactly articulate what made her reach for her camera and snap that picture. She just knew that she had to, or she'd regret it. She took three shots of the two women, then climbed the steps to get some of the crowd, zooming in on individuals, on signs, on groups of women hugging and cheering and laughing. Her final shot was of a sea of people, celebrating on the steps of America's capitol, because finally, finally, something had gone right.
Climbing down, she approached the two women. "Sorry to intrude," she said. "I just wanted to show you something." She pulled up the second shot of them, which was, in her opinion, the best one, and showed it to them. "I wasn't trying to spy," she continued. "But it was so lovely, and it seemed to capture the spirit of what today was about."
The two women stood and looked at the screen, smiling, their arms still around each other. "You're not wrong, honey," the second one said. "You got a good eye, by the way. This is what today is about, women are freer than ever to make choices about what they want to do with their bodies."
"I lost my sister ten years ago," the first one said quietly, clinging to the other. "She got pregnant, and she couldn't afford an abortion, but she couldn't afford to raise it either. She died when she was six months along. Complications, they said. A simple procedure that could have saved her life, for want of a good low-cost clinic. And she paid the price. We're here today for her, my wife and I. I wish she could have seen this."
Piper could feel herself starting to cry. "If you want, I can send these to you," she offered. "It seems only fair, they're of you two, after all."
Her words made them smile. "That'd be real nice of you," the second one said. "I'm Joanie, by the way, this is Amanda."
"Piper," Piper replied. They exchanged email addresses and hugs, then turned and headed off on their own paths. Piper walked away from the crowd, her legs shaking like she'd just run a marathon, and she couldn't wipe the smile off her face...not that she was trying very hard.
She got back to her hotel and ordered some room service, firing up her laptop while she waited. She emailed Charles the cabinet pictures, then sent one to Joanie and Amanda, with their pictures attached. After she ate, she curled up to sleep, mentally drained but very happy.
The next morning, she awoke to an email from Joanie, asking if she had any more pictures from that day. 'My sister works for TIME', she wrote. 'They're writing a feature about the law passing, and I showed her your pictures (she loved them, by the way). Anyway, long story short, she showed them to her boss, and they'd love to see anything else that you have.'
Piper's stomach flipped. Photography had never been her strong suit, that was more her father's territory. But now TIME wanted to see her pictures? She emailed Joanie back, telling her that yes, she had more pictures, and yes, she'd be in DC today (though she was leaving tomorrow), so yes, they could definitely have lunch. Joanie had included her sister's work email, so Piper sent her a short note, and attached two of her pictures. Then she headed off for lunch with the two women.
As they were preparing to go, her phone beeped with an email. It was from Joanie's sister Kate, who said that her boss had loved them and wanted to meet Piper and see the rest of her work. She listed the office's address, which turned out to be in New York. Piper emailed her back on the spot, saying she was driving back tomorrow, but would the day after work? The reply came almost immediately: 'Day after tomorrow, 11 a.m. Looking forward to it!'
Piper filled them in, and the other women smiled and hugged her again. "Gonna be all fancy and published now," Joanie teased. "Gonna see you in Rolling Stone and all the big magazines."
Piper laughed, looking down at her phone. "I don't know about that," she replied. "Besides, I wouldn't even have this opportunity without either of you."
Joanie kissed her on the cheek. "That day needs to be remembered forever, in pictures, in film, hell, in watercolors. Spread the word, girlie, let them know that now we have the rights we should've always had, we're not going anywhere. And we're not gonna be quiet. Hell, Mandie and I couldn't even get married when we wanted to, we had to wait til it was legal. The tide's shifting, I feel it in these old bones. So you show that magazine what joy looks like, what triumph looks like. You show them, and you have them show the world."
Piper felt very humbled all of a sudden, and very small. "I will," she promised. "Hell, if they don't like them, maybe someone else will."
"That's the spirit," Amanda said, in her soft voice. "Now don't lose our email, alright? Let us know how it goes, and how you're doing later on."
"I will," she said again. "I will, I promise." They paid for lunch and stood chatting for a while, waiting for cabs to take them away. Piper had been hugged more in the past few days than she had for a long time, but she didn't mind at all. She waved as she got into the taxi, and waved until she couldn't see the other women anymore.
The rest of that day, and the next, passed mostly in a blur of packing and driving. She'd arrived back in New York around 10 at night, kissed Charles hello and goodnight, then fallen into bed. Then, far too soon, it was morning, time to get up and get cleaned up for her interview with TIME. She turned up at the office by 10:30, because her mum had always said it was better to be early than late, and she wanted to make a good impression. She had to wait for the editor to be free, turning her camera around and around in her hands.
When he finally emerged from his office, he smiled and shook her hand, apologizing for keeping her waiting. "Reporters," he griped cheerfully. "Never happy, any of 'em. And jeez, can they yammer. But anyway. You're Piper, right?"
"That's right," she replied, following him back into the office. "I've brought my pictures from Washington."
"Well, pop in the card and let's see what we've got." He passed her a memory card reader, and she carefully pulled the small card out of her camera and inserted it. The folder popped up a few moments later, and she opened it to show him her pictures. He opened up each file and studied them appraisingly, going through the whole folder twice.
"Well fuck me," he said finally, leaning back in his chair. "And you took these on that?" he pointed to her middle-of-the-road digital camera. "With no prior experience?"
"...Yes?" Piper said hesitantly, wondering where he was going with this.
"Got a hell of an eye on you," he replied. "We could definitely use these." He started writing something down on a piece of paper. "This sound fair?"
Piper picked up the paper-and almost dropped it. She hadn't expected to be paid at all, let alone that much. "I-yes, that's more than fair," she managed at last.
"Great!" he said, smiling at her. "We'll draw up the contracts and send them over to you, then we can get the ball rolling. It's been a real pleasure meeting you, Piper."
"You too," she said faintly, shaking his hand and heading out the door, slightly dazed. When the issue came out, a copy appeared on her doorstep. The feature on the passage was in the middle, and underneath the name of the article's author was written, in crisp white letters, 'Photographs by Piper Addison'.
After that, everyone wanted to talk to her, and sometimes to Joanie and Amanda as well. They were interviewed by different press outlets around the country, their pictures and Piper's photographs splashed all over the internet and the television. Magazines called to hire her, asking if she'd be willing to freelance for them. She took the occasional job, but hated being away from New York and the shop for too long. The upside of being sent to various far-flung locations, though, was that she often came home with interesting little things to sell in the shop. She took pictures of uprisings and refugees, of disasters and towering human achievements. She lived a good life, and every time, she went back home to Charles and the shop.
When the 25th anniversary of the law's passage rolled around, they called her up for another interview. Joanie and Amanda had passed on, but the photograph that had started it all was shown again. Piper cried a little, she missed them. And after that...well, what can you say? She kept traveling until it was just too much anymore, and retired from photography when she was 70. She lived another 20 years, passing quietly in her sleep when she was 90.
And for most people, that would be the end of the story. She'd lived a rich, fulfilling life, and there were very few things she regretted, but she was still mortal. Valar morghulis.
But, in the way the universe does sometimes, something shifted slowly, so very slowly, in the order of the world. The 200th anniversary of the passing of the law that had pushed Piper into the spotlight was coming up, and a lot of major media outlets were working on pieces for it. A young reporter for CNN had gone digging through old archives, looking for reports from that day, for photos, for anything she could find. She found the old photograph of Joanie and Mandie, with Piper's name beneath it. She googled Piper and found her other pictures in TIME, as well as others she'd taken over her long career. She incorporated a few of them into her report, like a lot of others were doing, but once the rememberances had passed, she approached one of her bosses about doing an exhibition of Piper's work. She spoke so passionately about the starkness and power of some of the shots, and the sheer humanity of others, that eventually they agreed.
The woman reached out to the Smithsonian Museum, who agreed to host the exhibit. And just like that, Piper's name was back out there again. It circled the internet, the blogosphere, the TV news shows. Tumblr's 'history' and 'awesome ladies' tags featured posts about her; the Wiki article attained semi-protected status because people kept changing it. People were talking about her, her pictures, the upcoming exhibit. And people talking, well, that spreads. Everyone knows someone, and they pass it on, and the ones who got it pass it on further, and so forth. Her name and pictures reached all around the world, and made people think.
And that's how, on a warm night in June, Piper Isabelle Addison opened her eyes-for the second time around.
She was standing outside the Smithsonian, looking in at people milling around and looking at pictures on the walls...her pictures, she'd know those shots anywhere. But that wasn't right, she'd taken that picture of the Eiffel Tower in her 30's, and the one of Egypt when she was 40. Why were they all here, now? She looked down at herself, confused. She didn't look old at all. A glance in one of the nearby windows confirmed it-she looked like a young woman in her late 20's. And indeed, that was the picture of her at the entrance to the exhibit. She managed to sneak inside when the man at the door was distracted, wandering around the large space and looking at all of her work on display. Each picture had a date and location card hanging beneath it, and she was about three-quarters of the way around the room, when she saw a picture that made her heart squeeze.
It was her and Charles, standing outside the shop, her arm around his waist. God, but that brought back memories, they looked so happy. She started to reach out and touch the picture, but managed to stop herself. It did make her wonder, though. If the shop was still there, or if Charles was even still in New York. She had to find out.
She left the exhibit in a hurry, winding through the dark streets of DC, looking for the interstate. Surely there was someone she could hitch a ride from. A truck came along after about an hour, and she managed to hitch a ride all the way to New Jersey, and from there, bummed a ride with some students heading back to Manhattan. They dropped her in Times Square, which hadn't changed at all, still all bright neon and huge crowds of people. It made her tear up and smile at the same time, it felt like coming home, a familiar beacon in the midst of everything she didn't understand.
She didn't have money for a taxi or the subway, so she headed away on foot, seeking out the familiar streets she'd once walked nearly every day. It took her several hours to find the right neighborhood, but she finally managed it. And there...there was the shop at the end of the block. Her heart was pounding almost painfully hard in her chest. What if he'd sold it? What if he didn't recognize her, or worse, didn't think she was really herself? She straightened her spine, tilting her chin up. Well, she'd never find out if she kept standing here and staring.
The last block seemed to stretch on forever, but she did eventually reach the door of the shop, opening the door and hearing the familiar bell chime overhead. The woman behind the counter looked up and smiled. "Hi, welcome," she said, accent straight out of Georgia. She looked older, her copper hair going a little gray at the temples, but the kind of woman that makes people feel at ease, almost without trying. Piper couldn't help but like her a little.
"Hello," she replied. "Is-is the owner in? I'm an old friend of his, I was hoping to catch him here."
"He's in the back, hon. Hang on a minute, I'll get him for you." She ducked into the back. "Mr. Charles? There's a young woman out front, asking to see you."