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“Something tells me that New York Below is going to be less poetical than London Below,” said Richard, as they walked past Heathrow security toward a plane that had a few empty seats on it. Door gave a small smile as she went through the metal detector, setting it off, and confusing the guards who had no idea why the machine would beep when no one was going through it. This left Richard blocked, of course.
“You’re taking too much time,” said Door, as he dancingly tried to side step around the various security folk who were trying to figure out the cause of the beep.
“What metal things are you carrying?” Richard asked, finally squeezing around a rather fat guard as he leaned over, exposing a bit of crack as Richard slipped by.
“I just have a few knives,” Door said.
Richard inhaled sharply. Though he was used to London Above residents not seeing or hearing him, there was something very hinky about talking about weapons at airport security that he couldn’t quite adjust to. But past security, they both began to walk quickly through the airport, not being in any less danger of people bashing into them in the international terminal than they’d be if they were fully visible to the other travelers.
“What did you mean about New York being less poetical?” asked Door, as they managed to avoid getting tangled in a whole extended family of Mickey Mouse eared sleepy travelers, disembarking from an Orlando flight.
“Well, I was looking at the map,” Richard answered. “Their subway station names are much more straight forward. Many are just named after the numbered street they reside below. And others are just dryly named after the landmark they are near. Though please tell me that there’s lawn bowling at Bowling Green.”
“Not lawn bowling,” Door smiled. “It’s rather more of a bowling alley all painted green that’s very popular. They serve great New York style pizza there. Or so I’ve heard. I’ve never been.”
“Ah,” said Richard. And he kept walking. Ah really was the only response to this information. They walked to the gate in silence. Then he remembered his real inquir: “But say, 14th Street. What is the culture of a station with such a dull name?”
“It’s just a place, like any other place,” said Door. “But it’s not the place we’re headed.”
“Where are we headed?” asked Richard, as they boarded the plane last, taking the seats directly in front of the toilets that no one had booked, the ones that didn’t recline. “What is the reason for this trip?”
“You’ll see when we get there,” Door smiled.
When the plane landed at JFK, Richard had a sore back from not being able to recline, was hungry, due to the fact that no food service was given to them, and the part of his shirt right below the shoulder was covered in Door’s drool. She had fallen asleep on him at some point over Greenland, and he had suffered the abuse that a pillow usually has due to it. The hilarious bit of it is that Door didn’t seem shaken by either the proximity or the oral excretions. She merely asked him if they were there yet, and went about gathering her things.
And he had to say, the warmth of another person against him was rather nice. It has been a long time since Jessica had been vulnerable enough to do something like fall asleep on his shoulder, though she certainly would never had drooled if she had done. In the year he’d been in London Below since leaving behind his penthouse and junior partner status through the door he’d made with Hunter’s knife, he hadn’t had anyone sleep against him up until this trip. Not so much as a friendly snog. Not so much as a platonic cuddle.
And things were different Below than Above. Things had more gravitas. There was no such thing as a casual anything in London Below, never mind something like a casual snog or a one night stand. He knew that by walking away from the very interested girl from Computer Services that night meant giving up both the potential of two kids in the suburbs and the more unlike him prospect of a shag and a goodbye. While that wasn’t in his normal behavior range before, who knew what he was capable of upon reentering London Below? He still felt rather like that. Who knew what he was capable of? Though right now, what he was capable of was disembarking a plane no one knows he’s on to a foreign country that he’d never been to before. And wouldn’t be going to in any way the old Richard would have understood.
They walked through the terminal and toward the Airtrain. This would take them to the beginning of the New York subway where they would meet their guide.
Richard knew him when he saw him. He was sitting on the ground at the entrance of the subway station. He was covered in dirt. And while members of London Below looked like they were dressed in some mix of Edwardian clothing, this man looked like a hodgepodge of 1940s gangster, 1970s pimp, and Colonialist soldier, if that makes any sense. Which it wouldn’t have to Richard had someone tried to explain it to him before he witnessed it, but he knew was the only way to describe this man’s getup.
Door walked up to the man. “Vinnie?” she asked.
“That’s my name. You Door? And…Dick?” Vinnie looked like he was snickering when he said Richard’s nickname.
“Richard is fine, I’m sure,” said Richard, who put his hand out to shake Vinnie’s only to be greeted back with a fist bump. Richard shook his knuckles out. “Charmed.”
“You’re sure?” asked Vinnie, snickering a little more.
“We’re looking for safe passageway to Columbus Circle,” said Door, getting down to business. “I assume you’ve been sent to make that happen?”
“It’s a long way from here, but Chris Columbus is waiting for you,” said Vinnie.
“The film director?” asked Richard.
“The who?” asked Vinnie.
“Chris Columbus. The film director?” reiterated Richard.
“Chris Columbus. The man who discovered America. Well the man who tells everyone he discovered America. The fact that they give him a bank holiday doesn’t help in the matter of dissuading him of this fact,” said Door.
“Christopher Columbus,” said Richard.
“He goes by Chris now,” said Vinnie. “And he’s waiting for us.”
They hopped the turnstile and boarded the next train toward the city.
The interesting thing about New York is that it was harder to tell the difference between residents of New York Above and Below than I was to tell the different in London. People dressed weirder in New York. People smelled funnier and seemed battier. Richard was certain each time he’d found another resident of London Below hitching a subway ride, only to have them not truly be able to see him. This would take getting used to. Though, he supposed, it would take more getting used to the people being so undignified, were he a London Above man moving to New York Above. Strange people, Americans.
Either New York below is a much less territorial place than London Below, or there had been word to let them pass, as they made a few transfers on subways until they made it to the right station. No trekking through abandoned track lines, no walking through unused sewers. For a land that is struggling to unite itself, it was shockingly easy to traverse. Too easy.
“Door,” Richard whispered. Door looked him. “Don’t you feel it’s a bit convenient that we’re able to travel through the city with such ease?”
“There’s an alliance between all parties in New York Below and London Below, and I’ve been called for as an emissary with you as my companion, but yes. I agree. Quite odd.” Door looked carefully over at our guide, who had just sucked his phlegm into a ball and spit it on the subway floor. “It feel slightly like a trap, yes?”
“I would say. Yes,” Richard quietly intoned.
“So I guess the question becomes whether or not we’ll continue on with this charade or if we’ll perhaps notice that this train is headed completely the wrong way for Columbus circle anyhow, trust our instincts, and…” Door motioned with her head toward the door at the end of the train. Vinnie was standing in a stance that Richard now realized was a way of making sure they didn’t exit the train onto the platform. But they were in the last car, and as the train pulled into the station, Door touched the lock of the door at the end of the car, opened it, and they both jumped onto the tracks, just as the train started up again, assuring that Vinnie would either have to leave them behind, or seriously injure himself trying to fall out of the same door. Door grabbed him by the hand and they ran down the tracks.
“Do you know where we’re going?” said Richard.
“No idea,” said Door, as she ran him down the track, “But I know where we should go. And I know that we should get off the tracks before another train comes.”
Another few hundred meters down the tracks they came across a locked door. Door did her thing and opened it.
Inside was dark. Very dark. But as their eyes adjusted, the found that they were some sort of tool shelter. Richard found a pull chain to a bare bulb, and illuminated the room. Outside they heard the sound of a train rumbling by.
“So what’s happening here is that we were lured across the ocean to some sort of trap?” Richard asked, sounding a bit exasperated.
“It is possible that it wasn’t a trap at all, and we just ditched our guide and ran through a subway tunnel for no reason,” Door answered.
“I’m not sure which one of those answers I’m happier with,” stated Richard, who, though his hatred of predictability and boredom left him to choose a life underneath, still didn’t like unnecessary drama.
“On the plus side,” said Door, “You’d never seen New York before.”
“I’ve yet to see anything,” muttered Richard. “Other than a series of subway tunnels. And I know that’s what our world looks like in London. But part of me wanted to at least catch a glimpse of, I dunno, the Empire State Building or the Brooklyn Bridge.”
“You miss it sometimes, don’t you?” asked Door.
“The Brooklyn Bridge?” scoffed Richard. “Never been.”
“Being of the world above, I mean,” said Door. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve always been of London Below. Everyone I’ve ever known, until I met you, was from there. But you gave up a whole world of people to be part of my world.”
“Well it was that…I mean, there were many reasons…” Richard stammered.
“I wasn’t saying you did it for me,” said Door. “But you did it.”
“Well, my parents were both dead. They are, in fact, dead. Jessica…well Jess was very much not interested in continuing a relationship with me. In fact, I’m not sure what I ever saw in her. She was…she was terrifying. Much more terrifying than anything I’ve encountered in London Below.”
“So you cut that door to avoid your ex-fiancee?” Door asked, a bit dismayed in him.
“No,” Richard emphatically stated. “I’m having one of those moments where I realize how terribly British I am. It’s been a year, and we’ve not discussed any of this.”
“I guess I never wondered why you would come below since I never saw the appeal of above,” said Door.
“Well, I did. Saw the appeal. And then I didn’t. After all that happened, I just couldn’t go back to my average life. But now, well, it’s not like any life is that spectacular, is it? I feel like at a certain level, we have an average life for a London Below person. Oh, it’s all a trap? Splendid. Just another day at the office!”
“I have no idea what that means,” said Door.
“I guess…I want more. I want to feel…unique in the all the world. To someone. Somewhere.” Richard sat down hard on the ground. Door sat down next to him.
“You want to be in love,” said Door.
“And the thing is,” moaned Richard, “I don’t think I ever have been. Certainly not with Jess. Maybe I’m just not capable of…” Richard stopped talking beacause Door had silenced him with a kiss. Richard, shocked, sputtered, “Door, that wasn’t an invitation!”
“Wasn’t it?” asked Door.
“I, em, I…” Richard stared at Door’s face, alarmingly close to his own.
“You are unique to me in all the world. Not just because you are unique, in that you chose to slip through the cracks into my home because you preferred it there, though that does make you unique. You are unique to me in all the world because you’re my companion. You make me laugh. You’re…oddly sweet. And think you do see me that way. You’re just too…”
Richard cut Door off: “British?”
Door smiled at him. She leaned in and kissed him again, softly. She put her hands on his face gently, making sure she didn’t make any sudden moves, not caring to scare him off. He began to kiss back. He chuckeled a bit.
“This feels odd,” he said, making odd laughing noises.
“No. It doesn’t,” said Door. This time she climbed her legs over his lap, and began to kiss his neck. His awkward hands relaxed onto her body as he began to kiss her neck as well. Then he reached for her face and began to kiss her hard. He probably had never kissed someone so hard in his life. The whole world fell away into her lips until she pulled them away, and climbed off of his body.
“Where’re you going?” moaned Richard, reaching for her.
“There’s a mad American gentleman after us. We’ve not even gone a full subway station from where we were last seen, and we can’t stay in this room forever. We should get going before he finds us,” said Door.
“But…the kissing…” said Richard, still groggy headed.
“I’ve waited a year for you to notice that I notice you. I can wait until we’re safe to continue,” said Door, grabbing her bag and peeking out the door to see if there are trains and/or assailants out there.
“But I…I just realized that…I mean, I didn’t know that I…but I now realize that I…” stumbled Richard, getting up off the floor.
“You can be very slow witted,” smiled Door. “So waiting will have to be your punishment.” A train rumbled by as she said that, and after it passed, she signaled he should follow, and he followed her down the tracks.