by Keith LaHue
Dizzy was hiding out under the bridge in Central Park again. That couple would be by again. They came here every day at dusk, and he robbed them every day. It was routine. He thought about the creature that had been on the bridge. What the hell was it? And how come moments after that even bigger hand came down from the sky and took it away, had everyone forgotten what they had just seen? Traffic had resumed immediately, and the police that had been there scattered.
The couple came, he robbed them and he went to score. He was picking out some nice clean heroin, the same bags he'd bought yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. He really didn't care that he was stuck in this loop. The only thing that sucked was the day of jonesing before he scored. Everything after that was bliss. He turned to leave when he damn near tripped over Jimmy the Quick, who'd been standing behind him. He was a rich guy that scored coke from the same guy Dizzy got his fix from.
"Where are you headed Dizzy?" said Jimmy.
"I was just going home."
"To the cardboard box you live in?"
"Get outta my way. I'm busy."
"Oh don't worry; I have a place in the good part of town. You can even stay there if you want. You can do off, and get your fix. I just want to know one thing: Did you see that giant on the bridge?"
"Of course I did. It was there. For a little bit, I thought it might be because I was kicking. But you saw it too, right?
"It was there Dizzy. And there's more." Come on, walk with me. The two of them headed north and then west, in the direction of Jimmy the Quick's apartment. Sadie would probably be there by now, but right now, Jimmy didn't care.
They arrived at the apartment. The doorman looked askance at Dizzy; Jimmy told him that he was with him. The doorman gave him a "whatever" look, and opened the door for them. They took the elevator up, and soon Dizzy was using one of Jimmy's good spoons to cook up the biggest shot of dope he'd done in his life. Jimmy thought it would be better if Dizzy was in his natural state of mind before they talked. Sadie was absent for some reason.
Dizzy hit a vein, and his eyes rolled back in his head after the push. At first, Jimmy thought that he was going to overdose, but after a few minutes, he sort of regained a semblance of being marginally functional. Jimmy slapped him in the face to bring him fully around.
"Hey, whadidya do that for?"
"I need you semi-coherent. We've got an experiment to conduct."
"Like in High School science class?"
"Sort of, but don't worry, you won't have to do much. Just be an anchor."
"What do you mean?" Dizzy was coming back into reality, but he was still stoned.
"Have you ever been to Brooklyn?"
"Maybe when I was a kid. I sure as hell don't want to go there now, with giants around. And that hand reaching down from the sky! Man, I thought I had just done off or something."
"So you remember it then? The giant dude and then the hand?"
"How could I forget? Scared the shit out of me."
"As far as I can tell, you and I are the only ones in the city that do remember it. It attracted a crowd while it was happening, but right after it was like a mind eraser hit the city. I checked. No one else I spoke to remembered it. It was like it hadn't happened."
"So what are we going to do now? It's over. Let's hope he, or it, doesn't come back."
"Are you fit to travel yet?"
"Can't we just stay here? You've got a nice place, and I've got more dope."
"We'll come back. Get up, we're going. Or else I cut you off from your fix."
"Alright, alright. Let's go."
Dizzy struggled to his feet, and for a moment Jimmy thought he was going to live up to his name and fall. He managed to stay upright and the two of them made their way downstairs to the exit.
Once they were outside, Jimmy led them to the hardware store. He bought a fifty-foot length of rope. He asked the cashier if he'd heard any news about the giant on the bridge. The guy just looked at him funny, then at Dizzy, and then told them they'd better get out of there. Jimmy paid up and the two of them left.
Dizzy asked what the rope was for. Jimmy explained the experience he'd had trying to cross the bridge, and the tunnels, and so on. Dizzy said he'd been born in Jersey and had been there many times. It intrigued Jimmy, so he pressed him on the details. He wasn't surprised when Dizzy hadn't been able to come up with any concrete details about Newark. He saw his eyes glaze over when Jimmy continued to press him, and he knew it wasn't just the dope. He'd seen the same look in Sal's eyes when he'd asked him about Brooklyn, where Sal supposedly lived.
The lights in the sky were going to go out soon, and Jimmy wasn't sure if that would help or hurt their endeavor. They were crossing Central Park when Dizzy spotted the young couple he had been robbing every night. They were standing near the bridge, with confused looks on their faces, like they were expecting to be robbed. Only now Dizzy had no need for them. They were just standing there waiting.
On the way to the bridge, Dizzy explained that ever since a few days ago, he became conscious of the fact that he seemed to be reliving the day over and over. Jimmy the Quick agreed with him and the two swapped stories. They were almost to the bridge.
They arrived, and James began his explanation.
"I'm going to tie this rope to my waist. All you have to do is hold onto it, and don't let go. No matter what don't let go. I'm thinking that maybe if some part of me is still attached to me, I'll be able to see what is on the other side of the bridge. And something tells me it isn't Brooklyn.
"Have you got it? Understood? Just don't let go."
"You're the boss."
The two of them went as far as Jimmy remembered was the "edge" of the bridge, and he tied himself around the waist with the rope. He slowly made his way father onto the bridge. As a safety, he told Dizzy that if he pulled on the rope three times, Dizzy was to pull him back. He continued on the pedestrian walkway of the bridge.
He slowed down as he approached the edge. Cautiously he went further than he had ever been able to go. The last thing he saw was the white Volvo, disappearing from view.
He was in a blue mist. The rope was taught. He'd left Dizzy standing at the "edge" and he figured he had about 45 feet of rope to go. His experiment was working; the blue mist soon enveloped him. It was hard to see, but he thought he could spot something on the other side. Just a few more feet and... suddenly, he was standing not in Brooklyn, but somewhere he had never been. He recognized it from pictures. He was in Arizona. In the distance, he could see the Grand Canyon. There was a tribe of some kind of Indians here. He panicked and pulled the rope three times, while high tailing it back the way he had come.
In a few minutes, he was back on the Manhattan side of the bridge to Arizona. He knew that if he had wanted to, he could have untied himself, and continued into the desert. Or could he? He thought the entire thing was crazy, and that maybe if he had gone further, he quite possibly would cease to exist. Maybe he'd find himself back in his apartment. He pondered the whole non-existence part. Hell, here he was reliving the same day over and over, as was everyone in the city, and he was balking at letting the whole thing go. For the first time, He questioned the reality of his existence.
Dizzy looked at him. James told him what he had seen.
"You're shitting me. I don't believe you."
"Do you want to try it? Go without the rope and I'll see you at the base of the bridge. Go ahead. It doesn't hurt you. But tying the rope to you and going that way just might. I don't know." Dizzy said he was going to try it without the rope. Jimmy gathered the rope and went to wait for him near the base of the bridge. He had almost reached it when Dizzy appeared out of a thin blue mist that was identical to what Jimmy had seen in his crossing. Dizzy looked like his name again.
"I need some more dope," said Dizzy.
In Los Angeles, Jimmy the Quick's west coast counterpart James was mapping the perimeter of the "city". It went as far as Long Beach one way and the Valley anothe
r. Los Angeles it seemed wasn't nearly as big as it was on the map. He'd created a real map of the city by marking up one of the several maps he bought with a magic marker. He'd tried driving over the edges many times and walking several.
He wanted to talk to Donna. She's been with him that day, and every day, since this whole existential nightmare had begun. She had a party - the same party - every night. On nights he didn't go, he just sat in his apartment, whiling away the time. He wanted Donna to go with him again. After that very first time, the lady that had vomited didn't, and Donna had no interest in helping him affirm what he already knew: none of this was real.
She wouldn't budge on going for a ride. Was it some kind of fail-safe built into this reality, alternate universe or whatever the hell it was? One night he had stayed late at her place and had tried to get her as drunk as he could. When she was on the verge of passing out, he asked her again about going for a drive. He saw a moment of resistance in her eyes that gave way to acceptance. She mouthed the word "Okay", and then promptly passed out. The never-ending party went on around them and he'd left in the morning.
He guessed he could pick anyone to go for the drive. Something inside of him told him that it had to be Donna. She was the key to the effort. It had been her that had led them to the precipice to being with. They had been headed out to the desert, and then suddenly found themselves back near her place.
It had scared her. And she remembered it, he was sure of it. That's why she kept saying no. She was afraid of what she might find, of what James already knew: this was a sham. Had he ever made a movie? Had she? The further he went into it, the father he fell away from what to him had always been a reality. Donna knew too, she was just too frightened to admit it.
They were living the same day over and over. It would never end.
15
Davey hadn't played with Pangaea for a week, not since he'd discovered the army men he'd turned into cowboys and Indians all piled in the Grand Canyon. He knew that he had left them scattered about and that they had moved. He had tried one experiment with them since then. He'd placed them around his room and then waited to see if they moved. Between school and the daily visits to the hospital, they'd had plenty of time to move, yet they hadn't.
This confirmed his knowledge that it was Pangaea that contained the magic. While he'd known of the existence of people, people too small to see in the tableau, he didn't know that it could spread to his army men. His toy soldiers that he'd twisted into his version of old west figures.
What should he tell his dad? He thought it best that for now, he tell him nothing about the confirmation of what he already knew.
Three weeks later, and the big day was here. His dad would be coming home. His mother had been excitedly making preparations for the day. His dad still had a cast on one leg and his left forearm. He had been sprung from the contraptions he'd been encased in a few days ago, now he was deemed fit for release. He'd still have to stay in bed, so he wouldn't be able to work on the model, no, not for a long time. Still, Davey was glad he was coming home. He missed him. Just being with his dad made him feel better, and ever since they'd told his mother and him that he was "out of the woods", his mom and him had been suffused in a wave of relief. That had been a while ago.
His mom had made up the bed extra special, to accommodate his dad's needs. Davey had laughed when his mother had explained what the bedpan was for. Davey hadn't thought at all about that like it was a movie where no one ever used the bathroom. His mother had initially laughed with him, and then with humor still evident in her eyes, she pretended to scold him. But not really.
Davey hadn't been even in the basement all this time, he'd been too worried, and bogged down with homework he'd neglected while his dad was recovering. He was almost caught up. His teachers had cut him some slack on the homework, as they all knew what had happened.
Davey heard the front door open, the one usually reserved for strangers. In this case, he knew it was his mom and dad. His dad needed the extra width for the wheelchair. Davey rushed to meet them, giving his dad a big kiss. The baby sitter left after his mom paid her, and Davey sat with his father in the living room, happy just to sit with him in their own home. It would be a while before things got back to normal.
In the basement, two more inches of the Great Wall had been built.
Dave Sr. was still in considerable pain, even with the medications. The doctors had told him that while he would make a full recovery, it would take some time. Six weeks until the leg cast would come off. An additional ten days for the arm. He had a steel plate in his skull now. He supposed that would be fun getting through metal detectors. He had to fly fairly often, and since 9/11 the airports had become a major hassle already. Now he was going to have to explain why he was setting of the machine. Oh well.
Davey came into the room and resisted the urge to jump up on the bed with him. Dave was in the guest room, as the stairs to the room he shared with his wife would have been nearly impossible. So were the basement stairs. He missed the time he had with his son working on Pangaea.
"So dad, when are we going to get to work on the model again?"
"I'm afraid it will be a while kiddo."
"It's not as much fun without you. I don't go down there much alone." In truth, he was scared of what he might find. While Davey knew Pangaea was magic, he knew it was a secret he had to keep from his dad. The last time he'd been in the basement, he'd seen that the Great Wall had continued to be constructed even though his dad hadn't done anything to it since the accident. Davey had undone some of the progress. His dad would eventually be back downstairs, and he felt the need to keep the fact that Pangaea was real from his father. He'd think Davey was nuts if he told him. Sometimes Davey thought he was nuts. Maybe he was imagining things.
He hadn't imagined the toy soldiers though. He was sure of that.
"Tell you what Davey, why don't you invite one of your friends over to play with the model with you? You can set up your race car track down there, play with the army men that you painted up as cowboys...anything you want as long as you don't destroy anything." Davey had already destroyed the new construction on the wall.
"Well...Maybe I'd invite Tim over. But we don't have to play with the model. The race track is already set up in my room. And the Cowboys don't really look like cowboys. You can still tell they're army men."
"You sound like you don't want to play with the model. Don't tell me you're outgrowing it."
"Oh no, it's just something I want you and me to do. And you'll be better before we even know it."
"Well okay. As long as you haven't lost interest."
"I'll invite Tim over this weekend. We'll have fun." From the kitchen, they heard his mom call him for dinner.
"You'd better get going."
"I'll be back after dinner."
"I'll take a rain check on that. I'm kind of tired. I think I'll sleep."
"Okay, dad." He kissed him on the cheek then ran downstairs.
16
Karl was standing outside the outside basement door that led to the West residence, and the model. He was going to seriously fuck up that faggot Davey's model. But he had to get in without letting anyone know. He could hear Davey and his mom in the kitchen talking as they ate dinner. It was dark now; still, he had to be quiet.
The door was locked. He'd have to break a window. He grabbed a rock (he hadn't thought this through very well) and began tapping on the window. He wasn't sure it was possible for anyone to break a window quietly. He kept tapping, harder and harder.
The window didn't just break, it almost shattered. The noise was deafening. He heard Mrs. West almost yell, "What was that?", and then Karl heard the sound of the upstairs door opening. He'd have to run. So he ran.
Davey and his mother had been enjoying convivial conversation, centered on the fun they were going to have when dad was better when they heard the window break. Davey looked outside the kitchen window in time to see someone, a kid, running away. He c
ouldn't tell who it was, but instinct told him it was Karl. Karl wore that kind of jacket. So did half the boys in town.
His mother was already up and at the top of the stairs. He followed her.
"Mom, wait. What if it's a burglar with a gun?"
"No burglar in his right mind would break in that way. They're more discrete than that." She opened the door and headed down. Davey followed, scared. They reached the bottom of the stairs and saw there was no one there. That was the good news. The bad news was that one of the windowpanes of the door to the outside was broken in. There was broken glass all over the floor. Davey wondered if he should tell his mom who he thought it was. He elected to remain silent.
"What a mess. And with your dad in bed, I'll have to call someone to fix the window." She ran upstairs and fetched the broom and dustpan. After a few moments, the mess was cleaned up.
"Davey cut out a piece of the cardboard box in the size and shape of the window. We'll have to wait until tomorrow to get it fixed properly. Davey grabbed the ruler from the China section of the tableau. He saw the wall had grown again. He made a mental note to come downstairs and tear it down again.
He cut a piece of cardboard sized to fit the window and put it in place. That would have to do.
"Good job Davey. I wonder who was trying to break in. Must have been a kid. You haven't made any enemies have you, Davey?" She tousled his hair as she spoke, telling him she was only kidding.
"Just the kids I beat up for lunch money every day." He laughed as he spoke, and his mother laughed along with him. Davey was one of those rare grade-school anomalies: he really didn't have any enemies.
