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CYRUS S1C4: Wonder-Struck

Updated: May 22, 2021

(Elizabeth’s eyes were glazed. Her lips agate. The possibility of what Cyrus had done seemed to be unbearable. She looked at the frozen Ferris wheel, then swiftly at Cyrus, then back to the frozen bodies all staged in front of her for her, then back at Cyrus. Clearly, she was without a word or pitch.)

CYRUS: It’s a gift. From God.

ELIZABETH: But you. . .-- people shouldn’t be able to do that!

CYRUS: I wanted to show you who I am.

ELIZABETH: . . . Haha. This is crazy. Completely crazy.

CYRUS: I know, but Elizabeth. . . It’s okay. I would never hurt you. I want you to know that. I. . . I just wanted to show you. . . I wanted to be completely open to you. Is that okay?

ELIZABETH: Yes, but do you know how much power you have in your hands?

CYRUS: Yes. I do.

ELIZABETH: I would have never guessed you carry such a heavy burden on your shoulders.

CYRUS: Let me help you.

ELIZABETH: What? And you should probably unfreeze all of this now.


I know. I know everything. I know about your father.

ELIZABETH: What exactly do you plan to do about my father? Could you go back and fix that for me?

CYRUS: Just tell me when, and I will go.

ELIZABETH: If you could save my father. . . I don't know what to say. Thanks.

(The two stand in awe of one another. One based in reverence, the other in fear. But both enjoy a deep fond of respect. But this ends that night between the two. Cyrus and Curtis meet up with each other at the gate of the festive’s end.)

CYRUS: So, how’d it go?

CURTIS: Eh, it was alright. She’s a cool girl. Ya’know?

CYRUS: I guess.

(Slight moment of silence.)

CURTIS: How’d it go with Liz?

CYRUS: Oh, it was good. She’s. . . amazing, I guess.

CURTIS: Just “good”?

CYRUS: Well, I showed her.

CURTIS: You serious? You did what!?

CYRUS: I had to. I do not want there to be any secrets between us.

CURTIS: I think that is a secret you should have kept. Why did you show her?

CYRUS: I just told you why.

CURTIS: Come on, man. That’s not the only reason. I know you better than that. You do things like this when you’re about to do something really over the edge for affection.

CYRUS: … Okay. I told her I would do something for her.

CURTIS: Stop being vague.

CYRUS: We’ll talk about this on the way.

(Curtis and Cyrus get into the slim white mobile on their way back to Cyrus’ condominium. There is a brief 5 or 6 minutes of silence before Cyrus continues his under-willed story.)

CYRUS: I told her I would go back and save her father.

CURTIS: What the hell!? You did what!? What are you-- you’re going to kill yourself, fool! You aren’t a god, fool!

CYRUS: Just. . . relax. I can take it. I can do it alright.

CURTIS: Yeah you can, and kill yourself. Do you not know how much power that would take of you? You might not make it back. Hell, you might not make it there. You might tear yourself into a thousand pieces before you even make it there.

(Cyrus sits one hand on the wheel in ignorance.)

CURTIS: I know you want to impress her, but this is not the way to do it.

CYRUS: I’m doing this because I care for her. How long have I known Elizabeth Wilson?

CURTIS: Like a couple of years. But you don't know her that well.

CYRUS: And we have had our ups and downs together. I’ve seen her at her best, and I feel I know what her worst is.

CURTIS: Do you really think this will change much of anything? For you? Not time alone, because we already know you’re gonna fuck that up.

CYRUS: I don’t know. But I’m gonna do this.

(Four days later...)

RHONDA: Hello, Cyrus. How are you doing this afternoon?

CYRUS: Oh I'm fine, Rhonda. Thank you very much. How are you this afternoon?

RHONDA: Well I'm fine as well. You have the 12:30 with Dispense Distributions.

CYRUS: Shit. Can these guys find someone else to flip and market that shit?

RHONDA: Well… they are having a hard time; that's why they came to you.

CYRUS: I suppose. How big’s their team?

RHONDA: Uhh, I think I saw about… 5 or 6 of them.

CYRUS: Okay. Intercom "I'm on my way," please, could ya’, Rhonda?

RHONDA: Sure! No problem, Cyrus. But hey, you look a little… "off" today. Everything alright?

CYRUS: Hm-- Yes. I'm perfectly fine.

(With a convincing grin, had Cyrus. Rhonda looks at him with suspicion. But it passed rather quickly.)

RHONDA: Okay. Good luck in your meeting.

CYRUS: Thank you Rhonda. I'll see you soon after.

(Cyrus heads up to the meeting room with Dispense Distributions.)

CYRUS: good afternoon, gentlemen. And lady. I certainly hope I haven't kept you all waiting too long. Do you enjoy the office space?

DD MEMBER #1: It is most definitely fine, Mr. O'Brian. Thank you for having us. I suppose we should get started, shall we?

CYRUS: Absolutely. So, tell me, what are some of your goals with Dispense Distributions? Where do you see this brand in the next 5 years?

DD MEMBER #1: Well most certainly, Mr. O'Brian, mass distribution of our brand of course.--

CYRUS: Of course, but can we be more specific? When and how will Dispense Distributions be mass producing? Who will be feeling the ultimate benefits of all Dispense Distributions has to offer? And how do we go about execution, huh? You!.. you tell me-- any ideas Mr...Mr...--

DD MEMBER #2: "Tantrinado..." "Mr. Tantrinado, sir."

CYRUS: Tantrinado! Mr. Tantrinado, can you explain to me how we go about making "DD" a "well known family brand?" No, because you wouldn't be here if you did. Obviously, right? Allow me to put it this way, everyone. The goal isn't to make the first big millions, but to sustain them. Sustainability, is the key to success. How do we protect the brand after initial success to expand into new horizons and margins, right? Which one of you is the marketing director?

DD MEMBER #3: ME! Name's Pete. From Breeze Bright.

CYRUS: How ya' doin', Pete?

PETE FROM BREEZE BRIGHT: I'm fine, just trying to learn, ya'know?

CYRUS: That's great, Pete! And learn you will. That's why we're here, right? How much marketing planning execution do you do in one day to a week would you say, Pete?

PETE FROM BREEZE BRIGHT: I dunno... maybe an ad idea a couple weeks or so. Run it by "Mr. Boss-man" here, and we push it out to see who Is willing to market the ideas. Sometimes we may get 1 idea to be sponsored. Other times, we get nothin'.

CYRUS: Exactly, Pete. You all hear what he said here!? Pete, I don't know you all that well, but let me just tell you what I've gathered, Pete: you tend to take, "no" for an answer. There's no 'no's in this industry. We don't take a damn "no" as a valid answer. 1 promo every two weeks? Come on those are novice numbers. What are you a local plumber?


CYRUS: No! Because if you were, I'm sure "Mr. Boss-man" over here would have never hired you. And what is your name--...

DD MEMBER #1: Clifton, thank you very much.

(Clifton's lower lip flips over his upper causing a frog like bulge in his chin. His eyes lowered in curiosity. He didn't seem too fond of Cyrus's egotistical demeanor. But, he needed Cyrus's help. So he will let him be.)

CYRUS: CLIFTON! Two ads a week, at the very least! If you want results, you have to put in the money. Let's not be cheap here. A couple thousand on advertisement in two week's time, and I guarantee you a minimum return on investment, if it's all done properly of course with the right sources-- don't worry, I can help you guys with that.

(Cyrus takes a look at his platinum plated watch. He seems to be in a rush. Understandable with what he has been planning since his last meeting with Elizabeth. He had scheduled another meeting with Elizabeth at the local coffee shop, "Frappes". The wanted to sort out the details of Cyrus's up and coming time traveling trip.)

CYRUS: Alright! Can we agree on a number? From your books, and believe me, when I say I have seen this hundreds of times in my short, but not so short, successful career, I know what it's gonna cost: $1,056 per week, my 5% commissions rate, of course, added on to that, and you will see a net profit of at least 8% in your first month with me. Sounds good?

(Mr. Clifton seems gratefully surprised to where his shoulders became leveled with his chin line. He takes a slight lean back in his chair to peer over to his peers. They all seemed satisfied with Cyrus's presentation. More so based on his illustrious resume than his rushed and seemingly inconsiderate presentation. All members of Dispense Distributions looked back at Clifton with faces that said, "Take the deal!" So Clifton looked back over to Cyrus. Took a pause, and accepted the offer.)

MR CLIFTON: Let's do it.

CYRUS: Great! Alright. My assistant will be right in with you guys to get the paper work done. I actually have to get going for another meeting here. Lady-- you are wonderful, I got a lot of respect for you. Gentlemen, it is going to be my utmost pleasure to work with all of you, have a great day.

(Cyrus turns with one hair swoosh, and leaves the room. The room silent in shock of how Cyrus built such a successful company with the lack of attention to rapport building.)

(Cyrus makes his way through the light of mid day's rush hour. He arrives at the Frappe's just a couple minutes later than he wanted.

All of the local musicians hung out there to network for subjective acclamation to fame. It hadn't worked out too well for the majority of them. Maybe they had trouble promoting their brands? Also, some of them just lacked the necessary talents, or the image to succeed in the music industry. Plus, no major record labels looked at Double-City as a place to find the next great big thing. Frappe's was cream colored with outdated tables that looked like they came from the 50s. Very stylish for this community of individuals. Frappe's always had quality business.

Cyrus spots Elizabeth with her face in a steaming coffee. Her hair slightly curled, and she wore a long sleeved grey turtle neck that seemed to be just a couple of sizes too big. She wore a fashionable ring on her left middle finger. It clearly wasn't real, but it was cute on Elizabeth. She spots Cyrus up ahead and flashes her beautiful smile, ear to ear at him. Cyrus gives a slight smile, but his eyes said more. He breaks the connection and rushed over to her table.)


CYRUS: Hi, Elizabeth.

ELIZABETH: You'd think someone who could control time would never be late.

CYRUS: Nice one.

ELIZABETH: I'm kidding. So, how are you doing? How are you going to do this?

CYRUS: Well, I've been thinking and hashing out the details, and then I realized I don't know that much about the details.

ELIZABETH: Haha. Right. Okay, well, you know my father was wrongfully arrested for the death of my mother.

CYRUS: And what was the exact date of this?

ELIZABETH: The trial or?--

CYRUS: The... death. The incident.

ELIZABETH: Right. Well, it was February 7th, 2008.

CYRUS: And do you remember the exact time?

ELIZABETH: Yes. It was... 4:46 PM when it happened. I remember, because I remember my father screaming from up in my room, I was playing with my nail polish.

CYRUS: And the trial came relatively quickly, correct? Within a month?

ELIZABETH: Yeah, it was about 2 months and they had a verdict.


ELIZABETH: Yep. My father has been in prison since I was 13 years old. I just know it wasn't him. There was someone else there. I just know it.

(Cyrus looks deep into Elizabeth's eyes not to seduce her, but to assure her. Cyrus was a master of this.)

CYRUS: Elizabeth, I can do this. Don't worry, I will make this all right. I will find out who really did this. So you know, I don't know exactly what this will do to our current present time. I've never traveled back this far.

ELIZABETH: But what about your father?

(Cyrus turns his head downward and to the left swiftly to disapprove of the question Elizabeth had asked of him.)

CYRUS: Don't worry about me. This is all about you. Because like I've said, I have never gone back this far, and I don't know if I will ever be able to do it again. And if I do this, I want it to be for the right reasons.

(There was now a silence. Elizabeth didn't understand Cyrus. She never could. The only thing she knew for sure about him, was he truly had a great heart.)

CYRUS: Alright.

(Cyrus stands up planning his exit.)

ELIZABETH: You're going?

CYRUS: Yeah. I have to finish prepping. I'm going tomorrow night. Curtis has been helping me. We've watched enough detective shows in the last few days for a lifetime. We've learned a lot about being a true detective.

ELIZABETH: Well, okay. Thank you.

CYRUS: You're welcome.

(The next night. Cyrus and Curtis are at Cyrus's condo finally getting ready for Cyrus to make the long trip back in time.)

CURTIS: You're nuts.

CYRUS: I'm all packed and ready to go. I think I'm gonna miss you, my friend.

CURTIS: Yeah, yeah; you just make it back in one piece. And you didn't pack anything.

CYRUS: Got it... right.

CURTIS: So how do you know this is gonna work? I still don't understand.

CYRUS: Well, I don't know why, but my powers have been really peaking lately. I've been feeling like I can do anything lately. I don't know why.

CURTIS: Ahuh, and is this a certainty or just your ego again?

CYRUS: ... I can do this. I know it.

CURTIS: Alright. I'm gonna miss you, Cy'.

CYRUS: I'm gonna miss you as well. Alright. I'm gonna sit her for about 30 minutes to focus on the year 2008. I need to focus to make sure I hit the nail on the head and not overshoot or undershoot.

CURTIS: Shouldn't be too hard. 2008 was a pretty good year.

CYRUS: ... Yeah it was wasn't it. I think the males going away from the boot cut era was the best thing of our generation.

CURTIS: Yeah. And Social media and the internet really started to build traction.

CYRUS: Right. Alright, I'm gonna focus here.

CURTIS: Alright. Wait, how do I know you're still alive and didn't get pixelated?

CYRUS: ... I don't know, would you just wait and see!?

CURTIS: Alright. Good luck, man.

CYRUS: ... Thank you.

(Thirty minutes of silence pass. Curtis sits quietly on his cell phone the entire time. While Cyrus stands in between the doorway to his master bedroom facing outward towards the higher-leveled greeting area with stairs upward into the loft area of the condominium to the right of him. After thirty minutes, it was time. Cyrus shouted abruptly. Causing Curtis's head to make a sharp turn toward where Cyrus stood.)


(A huge spectrum of plasma ensues in the condo removing Cyrus.

A huge spectrum of plasma and gas introduces Cyrus to a sidewalk at the peak of the day in a upper-middle class neighborhood. Dropping Cyrus on his back side with a slight thud. Not harsh enough to fracture anything in the buttocks or lower spinal columns. Maybe harsh enough to jam a shoulder into its socket; bracing himself as he landed on his backside. Nothing was fractured. The homes in on the avenue resembled that of 2008 as Cyrus grimaced look down over his feet ahead of him. Then rotating his neck around the collar of his black pea-coat that was made of an expensive silk and cotton combination. So the collar made a sound as Cyrus rotated over his head over his right shoulder. His hair glowing the sun's arrays as he spots a child around the age of 13-15 racing on his bike on the parallel side of the sidewalk he laid on. He wore blue shorts, a light grey tee shirt with a blue cap to the back. Mid to high level socks were pretty popular in 2008. The bicycle was red. There was a hollering-- a screaming behind the boy from a girl who appeared to be slightly younger. She wore dark jeans and a white tee shirt with her brunette hair flowing above and behind her shoulders. The wind blew Northeast revealing her face. She appeared to be having a great time chasing after the boy. Cyrus then spotted a tree that looked familiar the two children passed at a pretty high yet casual speed. It was so light and golden. Old beyond belief with vivid splits in the wood vertically in zigzag motions. Cyrus realized he had been here plenty of times as he looked forward of him again over his feet to the other parallel side as he lay next to a tree on the middle island strip separating two sides of the avenue. A sky blue colored home with white in its mixture. Maroon colors trimmed the pillars and beak of the home. Cyrus stands as the sun glared from the Northwest now causing the grimace on Cyrus's face. He rushes over to the familiar home dusting off his white tee shirt under his coat which he didn't need because of the weather conditions seemed to be that of later spring. He hopped up the stairs which were also maroon colored and wooden. They made a bouncing sound as he skipped toward the door of the long horizontal porch. Ringing the door bell and awaiting the residents. A male around the age of 43 comes to the door in a white wife beater and pajama pants that looked just like a checker board. He had serious five o'clock shadow with grays through his beard and front of his widowed hair.)

CYRUS: Hi, how's it going, sir?

HOME RESIDENT: How may I help you?

CYRUS: Well I was wondering if your son Curtis were here. Is he?

CURTIS'S FATHER: What do you want with my son? What'd he do?

CYRUS: Oh he's not in any trouble, sir. I'm just an old friend.

Mr. Loans it's me, "Cyrus".


CYRUS: It's me, "Cyrus O'Brian."

(Mr. Loans took a long look at Cyrus, paused in confusion, squinted his face up in a sour form, and realized it was indeed Cyrus O'Brian.)

MR. LOANS: What the hell?


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