MR. LOANS: Jesus, Cyrus, what have you done this time? CURTIS? CURTIS!
YOUNG CURTIS: Yes, Dad?
MR. LOANS: Come down here and see this son!
(Mr. Loans still looking up and down the frame of Cyrus. Trying to make sense of what Cyrus has done. a "Young Curtis" comes running down the staircase aligned about 8 feet away just slightly right of the front door from the outside's perspective. The staircase is a dark chocolate color with faded wood in plenty of spots diversifying the color scheme of the staircase. This staircase was beyond aged. As Curtis bounced down the case with young energy, the steps creaked with every bounce. Curtis appeared from above wearing faded blue pajama bottoms to the point where they appeared white. They were the appropriate size. He wore dark grey socks with a dark grey top. The sleeves of the short sleeve shirt were black. Curtis wore a Mohawk back in 2008 with too much gel up top causing spikes with his dyed hair. He dyed his hair black to express a punk look.)
YOUNG CURTIS: Yeah, Dad?
(Mr. Loans looked back over his left shoulder down at a fresh 14 year old Curtis who had not fully grown into his current height. And motions his un-shaved five o'clock shadow toward Cyrus with widened eyes. He stumbled over his next worded expression.)
MR. LOANS: Would you look at this?
YOUNG CURTIS: What?
(Young Curtis looks at Cyrus with squinted confusion as in not knowing what his father would get out of simply telling him to look at a complete stranger standing in his doorway.)
MR. LOANS: ... Look.
(Curtis looked at Cyrus again a little deeper, but not expecting to get a new result out of repeating his confusion. Curtis took a step toward Cyrus, and squinted his eyes even harder sticking his neck out as conclusions started to form in his head.)
YOUNG CURTIS: Wait a minute... Cyrus!?
(A huge wide mouthed smile appeared on Curtis's face.)
YOUNG CURTIS: HOLY SHIT!
MR. LOANS: Ah-- CURTIS!
YOUNG CURTIS: Sorry, Dad. What did you do!?
MR. LOANS: This is too much for me. Cyrus? "Adult Cyrus", I don't even wanna know. Could you take Curtis down to the diner for some lunch? You guys figure it out. Curtis, go get dressed. I've got to get ready to head out with your mom, Curtis. We've got to make sure you have groceries for tomorrow.
(Curtis turns and races up the stairs slapping his hands on some of the steps as he ran up. Mr. Loans turns and looks at Cyrus again with his head slightly nodded with his hands in his pockets. Cyrus still standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets as well. There was still a silence as if Cyrus was in anticipation of the next questions, but...)
MR. LOANS: Ahh I don't wanna know.
(Mr. Loans turns away as he makes this statement and heads down the hallway to the left of the stairway.)
(Adult Cyrus and Curtis head down to the 'Orch Diner' in the heart of the neighborhood just a few blocks from the Loan household. The plaza was always packed with moving vehicles, and young teens looking to get into trouble. They generally hung out on their bicycles at the edge of the plaza. Curtis was relatively silent on the drive over still in shock of Adult Cyrus before him. They pull into the lot in front of the diner in the bright navy blue car in the broad day of rush hour. The diner had a tan brick design with huge windows up front allowing you to see from front to back of the diner if it were dark out.)
YOUNG CURTIS: It's kind of weird seeing you drive my Dad's car. Actually, it's weird seeing you driving at all. Actually, it's just weird seeing you as an adult!
CYRUS: Let's go.
(They both hop out of the appearing freshly cleaned car, and head into the diner. There was just a couple in their late thirties ahead of them in line to order food.)
CYRUS: What do you want to eat?
YOUNG CURTIS: Uhm, let me get the buffalo hoagie, I think. That's good, but I kinda want the cheese steak sandwich...
(Cyrus looks over down at Young Curtis in ultimate realization of how difficult this day was going to be with a teenage Curtis.)
YOUNG CURTIS: I'll just take the buffalo hoagie.
CYRUS: You sure?
YOUNG CURTIS: ... Yeah?
(Cyrus and Young Curtis found a table, and sit and eat before the questions start to become present as Curtis stuffs his mouth with his hoagie.)
YOUNG CURTIS: So, how'd you do it? What did you do?
CYRUS: It's quite obvious it's time travel, right?
YOUNG CURTIS: You're from the future. When did you learn how to rewind time?
(Cyrus gets a bit uncomfortable before answering the question.)
CYRUS: 16. It was 16.
YOUNG CURTIS: That's so cool.
CYRUS: You know you can't tell me -- ... "young me" about this, right?
YOUNG CURTIS: Of course! Something about, "it will affect our time we're in somehow." So why did you come to me? I'm just a teenager.
(Cyrus takes a look around the clustered diner before leaning in, lowering his tone to reach Curtis.)
CYRUS: I'm going to need your help. I can't exactly get a hotel. There can be no records that I was here.
YOUNG CURTIS: So why are you here? In 2008?
CYRUS: It's for a woman I met. Her name is Elizabeth.
(Young Curtis looks up at Cyrus with a face full of hoagie sauce and puffed cheeks. He shakes his head and goes back into his hoagie. Speaking with a full mouth.)
YOUNG CURTIS: You were always a sucker for vagina.
CYRUS: ... What man isn't?
YOUNG CURTIS: So, what do you need me to do?
CYRUS: I'm going to need a place to stay. I'll have to talk to your father when we all get back to the house. Borrowing his car is also going to have to be a thing.
YOUNG CURTIS: Where does this "Elizabeth" stay?
CYRUS: She lives west of the city in the suburbs out there past West Highway. You know. It's her parents. Her father was imprisoned for the murder of her mother when she was 12. --
YOUNG CURTIS: What -- wait a minute, you're 14 right now though.
CYRUS: ... Yeah, what's your point?
YOUNG CURTIS: You're dating women younger than you!?
CYRUS: It's different when you're an adult, Curt'. --
YOUNG CURTIS: Ewww, you're a creeper!
(Cyrus scours the room hoping no one heard Curtis. It was already the time in society where it was becoming odd for adults to be around teens in 2008. An adult dining with a 14 year old child could raise red flags to some. Curtis shouting "creeper" wouldn't help very much.)
CYRUS: Would you keep it down! Jesus.
YOUNG CURTIS: Alright. So what are you going to do about?
(Cyrus takes a look at his watch. Just as a notion that he would be heavily keeping track of time while he there.)
CYRUS: I'm going to find out who really did it. She doesn't believe it was her father. I'm going to find out who murdered her mother, and have them arrested.
YOUNG CURTIS: When does this happen?
CYRUS: In exactly... 4 Days from now. I wish I could have gotten a bit closer to the date.
YOUNG CURTIS: Why didn't you?
CYRUS: I wish it were that simple. But this time travel stuff is like... a catapult. It's very hard to hit the target. Especially since this is my first time ever doing a massive time leap like this one.
(Curtis lets out an obnoxious belch.)
CYRUS: You done?
YOUNG CURTIS: So what do you want to do until then?
CYRUS: I'll just have to lay low.
(Cyrus throws a tip down on the table left of his plate.)
CYRUS: Think you can go 4 days without seeing me?
YOUNG CURTIS: Yeah? Why wouldn't I be able to?
(The next morning, Cyrus sat on the Mayan designed sofa with a white tee shirt on and pajamas that were two sizes too wide. They belonged to Mr. Loans. An eaten bowl of cinnamon cereal in front of him. It was a bright Sunday morning outside, but the lighting in the Loans household was always dim and drab. The drapery east of the sofa was grey and white. Odd being that the Loans family were definitely not drab people.)
MR. LOANS: Hey Cyrus I'm going to run some errands. A friend needs help moving on the South side. Think you'll be alright here?
(Cyrus turns over his left shoulder towards the front door with a huge grin where Mr. Loans stood with a grey skull cap a size too big on his head. A pretty big jacket, and a scarf. It was the Spring, but the weather is beyond unpredictable around Double City. Cold should always be expected.)
CYRUS: Absolutely. No problem.
MR. LOANS: Keep an eye on the kid? Honey! Let's go!
MRS. LOANS: Coming!
(Mrs. Loans comes running down the stairs in a pair of fitted red jeans. A white collar shirt, with a belt with silver buckle holes all around the entire black design. She had dark brown hair, and usually always wore her hair down, because she was always prepared. Cyrus rarely saw Mrs. Loans unprepared. She rushed for her black coat hanging near the front door.)
MR. LOANS: See ya' later, Cy'.
MRS. LOANS: Good-bye, Cyrus!
CYRUS: See you guys later.
(Cyrus goes to sit back down in front of the Silver trimmed 50" inch television which had some bulk on the backside. As he begins to catch up on weekly trends on the TV, about 6 or 7 minutes pass before he hears yelling from a pitchy voice coming from outside of the front door, knocking, and doorbell ringing. It was definitely a teen. Around Curtis's age. A familiar voice.)
TEENAGE KID: CURTIS! WOO-HOO! I'M HERE! COME TO THE DOOR!
(Cyrus turns and hops up from the sofa with a striking pulse through his blood. He definitely recognized the voice, because it must have been his own.)
CYRUS: Oh shit.