A Step to Nowhere Page 13

  “Yeah, look at the lucky one. That’s me.”

  The guy named Steve laughed.

  “You’re a hostage in your own apartments,” I said. “Jail without jail.”

  “We’re trying to change that. We started with small steps—protecting the irnaners.”

  I heard sirens far away and turned to the window.

  “We’ll be fine,” Ronald said.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, turning back to him.

  “The City of Lost. It’s not safe, but there’s nothing else.”

  “Thanks for saving me.”

  “No problem.” Ronald smiled. How old was he? He didn’t look older than twenty-five. Younger than I am, too bad. Why too bad? I wasn’t going to seduce him. Your head is a problem, Sam. Can’t you find something better to think about?

  “I need to get to Park Street Twelve,” I said.

  “Velma told us,” Steve said. “Unfortunately, we can’t get there today. I’m sure they noted our license plate. We need to change cars and we can do it only in The City of Lost.”

  “We’re almost there,” Ronald said. He disappeared from my field of vision, leaning on his seat.

  I wanted to ask about the gunshot. Somebody shot there and somebody probably was hurt. Because of me. I wanted to ask, but preferred to be quiet. I was here temporarily, not by my will. The lives of people on this planet shouldn’t concern me. They helped me, thank you, but I didn’t want to know anything. I didn’t want to interfere. I didn’t want anything. So, I turned to the window. I couldn’t see police cars, but sirens grew closer. We stayed on the highway about two more minutes before turning to the alley. Then another one and another one, before driving into a different world.

  CHAPTER 19

  The buildings in The City of Lost were gray from the side of the road, but when we went through the alley, deeper into the city, we came into a world of colors. The buildings weren’t just painted—it was an art exhibition. I’d never seen anything so beautiful on concrete walls. Fields of flowers, animal scenes, hundreds of portraits of people. I pressed myself to the window. A leaping tiger appeared before my eyes, a flock of flying swans, a laughing girl in a polka dot dress with a bouquet of tulips, clouds over a placid lake, a huge bouquet of roses. On one of the houses, on the sixth floor, I saw a hoist. There was a person in it. I couldn’t say his age or even a gender from my location, but I could see him adding the last strokes to the portrait of a girl with long hair.

  People were walking on the streets here, sitting on benches, standing by the entrances of the buildings and talking, yelling from windows. Steve opened the window on his side and I heard unfamiliar music, voices, laughter. This place was anything but what I’d envisioned myself. In my mind’s eye I saw dark walls of tumbledown houses, lost faces of hapless, angry people. Hands stretched for alms, fights in the corners, and odors from opened trash bins.

  “People are happy here,” I said, mesmerized. It seemed like we’d entered one more reality, one more alternative universe.

  Ronald looked at me, leaning between the seats.

  “People pretend to be happy,” he said. “They are outlaws. Social outcasts.”

  “It doesn’t appear that they suffer.”

  “They don’t have any choice, but to pretend.”

  “I don’t understand. Why do you call it The City of Lost? Why don’t police come here?”

  “Because of the history of this place,” Steve said. We drove slowly. People from the street sometimes glanced inside our car, waved. Regular folks; women and men of different ages, seemingly sober, normal, mostly dressed, not in uniforms, but in old jeans and T-shirts. They didn’t look like criminals.

  “It used to be the poorest area in the city,” Ronald said.

  “It’s not rich now,’ Steve said.

  “It’s not rich.” Ronald nodded. “These people get help now. Something like sponsorship from our group. But at that time it was a swamp. Shabby houses, abandoned apartments, beggarly, bums, prostitutes. They had brothels here, joints. Robberies and homicides every day. Police could come here and get lost. Doctors didn’t visit sick people, mailmen went around. It was a black hole almost in the center of the city. Then Bristow came and established his regime. You probably know about that already, from Velma.”

  “She’s told me some things,” I said.

  “First, people couldn’t understand what was going on. Just rumors. Then events took a terrible turn. Our lives became an everyday struggle for surviving. It became a competition of who would snitch first. People started to leave, but the borders were closed quickly. Many people couldn’t receive permission to travel. Three years ago we organized Hlifian. You know what that is.”

  I nodded. We stopped in front of the house with a painted forest all over the façade. Steve turned off the engine.

  “My father was a friend of the father of the person who started our movement. He became one of the fathers for Hlifian,” Ronald continued.” “My father worked for the government. He could find out the names of suspects, the ones who were going to be arrested because somebody reported on them, and warn them. These people couldn’t leave the country, but they had to hide somewhere, so my father sent them here. The department where he used to work handled The City of Lost. Theoretically. They counted heads, made lists of people when they came here for inspections. Well, no one came for inspections but my father. He was a special man. One of the few who were respected by locals. My father knew that once a person arrived here, he disappeared. People who lived here were outlaws, but it didn’t mean they were heartless. When irnaners started to come, the locals helped them as much as they could.

  “As much as they could means – they didn’t touch the irnaners.”

  “That’s true. Of course, my father couldn’t save everyone. He couldn’t even find out the names of all the people being arrested, but he helped many people. In three years The City of Lost became what you see. Most irnaners are educated. They don’t want to live here. It’s still some sort of jail. They don’t have other choices, so they try to adjust. Our organization hasn’t grown much during this time. People are afraid to join. We’re afraid to accept everyone who wants to join. The person could be a spy, so we check everyone thoroughly. All of this requires a lot of money. We collect enough finances to support the movement and the people, but we can’t spend a lot. So, here you can still see the poorest residents of our city. My father has done a lot, but while Bristow is in control – the situation won’t change much. With time, in spite of all the hard work of the new people who get lost here, this place will become what it used to be. Lleh.

  “Sounds like hell,” I said.

  “Maybe that’s what it is.”

  “Does your father still work for the government?” I asked.

  “Somebody reported on him.” Ronald left the car and then opened the door for me. “Welcome to The City of Lost.”

  I looked at the gun on the seat, wondering if I should take it.

  “You can use it,” Steve said, leaning between the seats and looking to the weapon. I finally saw the driver’s face. Dark blond hair, hazel eyes, looked about twenty even though his voice sounded a little older. I shouldn’t have thought badly of him.

  “Flowers and animals are nice, but don’t forget that some of them have been painted by murderers.”

  I grabbed the gun and stepped outside.

  Ronald checked around and I checked him out. He was tall and had wide shoulders. What did his double do in my world?

  “I can’t shoot anyway,” I said, when he turned to me.

  “Where did you get it?” Steve asked. “It’s Shtine 252! Do they make them in your world?”

  “Shtine, shmine.” I turned the gun in my hand. Heavy, shiny, with a cross on the handle. “I took it from your cop. Or hunter, or whatever he was.”

  “Hunter?” Steve and Ronald asked simultaneously.

  I shrugged like it was not a big deal.

  “I said I had laser
eyes. He chickened out and gave it to me.”

  “You’re lying!” Steve opened his mouth in surprise.

  “Right.” I rolled my eyes. “I have nothing better to do.”

  The guys laughed.

  “They tell us so much pard about people from Planet Two, no wonder he believed you.”

  “Can I?” Ronald reached his hand for the gun and I gave it to him. Steve walked over to us and stopped close. Unlike Ronald, he was just a little taller than my 5’6 and slightly overweight. Ronald had a black uniform on, Steve—light gray.

  “I tried to fire,” I said. “It didn’t work.”

  “You can tell a person who’s never held a gun.” Steve smiled. “They told us that everyone on Planet Two carries a gun, because you have more crimes.”

  “That’s why everyone wants to come to our planet? Iron logic.”

  “The gun is on safety, that’s it,” Ronald said, without looking at me or Steve. – “We need to pull it out.”

  Ronald moved something on the top of the gun.

  “It’s going to fire now?” I asked.

  “It will be a good idea for you to practice. You can do it here, if we have time. We practice in basements. If you’re not familiar with weapons, it’s better to engage the safety, so you won’t shoot your leg or something by mistake.”

  “Thanks for the warning. You think I’ll need it?” I asked.

  “I hope not.”

  Ronald put the safety back on and gave the gun to me, demanding that I repeat what he’d done. It wasn’t difficult and I stuck the gun under the belt of my uniform without fear of shooting through my foot.

  “Armed and dangerous.” I joked, but it went unappreciated. Actually, I didn’t think it was funny either. Why was I like that? I had to stick in a joke no matter what the situation.

  I’d never held a gun in my hands before, but innovation didn’t surprise and didn’t excite. I didn’t believe in guns for one thing, but then—what wasn’t new for me today? It seemed nothing could surprise me anymore. Well, if dragons were to start flying over my head or an elephant should walk out of the building with the president from my planet on his back, then maybe. Even that could be taken as unusual happenings in another universe.

  “Steve doesn’t live here,” Ronald said as he looked up. I did the same. I saw two heads sticking out of the windows. A light-haired woman and a man with a mustache stared at us. “I live in this building on the fifteenth floor with my girlfriend. She’s pregnant.”

  “Congratulations,” I said. Ronald’s facial expression didn’t show happiness.

  “Yes,” he said and smiled. “We expect our first child in The City of Lost. It’s not important though. I need to warn her that I’m not alone. She doesn’t mind and is happy to help. She just doesn’t like surprises. I can’t tell her about it over the phone and I need to help her with cleaning.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Actually, can we rent an apartment for a night here? I’m sure the person who gave me this wonderful opportunity to get here, will pay you. I also have money.” I patted my pockets and discovered that I forgot the money in the other uniform. Damn, no restaurants for me. Yet another joke that would go unappreciated even said out loud.

  “It’s not easy and takes time. We have an empty bedroom for the baby. I think you’ll be comfortable there. It’s an honor for me to help a person from Planet Two.”

  “Yes, you’re the first from there.”

  “I don’t know if I should cry or laugh,” I said.

  “Okay. I’ll run upstairs and you can come up there with Steve in a few minutes. I’ll try to find another car as soon as possible so I can send you where you need to be. Park Street?”

  I nodded.

  “Should I tell her?” Steve asked.

  “Not now. Let’s get inside first.” Ronald looked up one more time and ran in the door of the building. It looked like he entered the trunk of a giant three.

  “Tell me what?” I turned to Steve. He waved his hand.

  “Nothing serious, really. Just a few details about our world that you can use. Ronald will tell you. He’s our leader.”

  “I don’t like it when people start saying something and don’t finish,” I said.

  “Sorry,” Steve shrugged. “If Ron said later it means later. I don’t do things against him.”

  “ Okay.”

  “Let’s sit.” He nodded in the direction of the gazebo in the middle of the courtyard. It was empty. There was another gazebo close by and I noticed a hugging couple inside.

  “This place looks like paradise,” I said. “It’s difficult to imagine anything bad happening here. Criminals.”

  “It’s nice on the surface, I agree. I hope you won’t see what’s inside. Usually at night, it’s not as quiet as now. Plus...” Steve looked at the upper floors and I followed his gaze. “Plus, people here don’t welcome strangers. If you’re with us, nothing to worry about. But there’re plenty of snipers.”

  I swallowed and wished to reduce the open space.

  We sat on the bench under the gazebo’s roof. It had started getting darker, even though it was difficult to believe. I’d spent less than twenty four hours in this place, but it seemed like a century. I was sure my family and friends were already looking for me. Mom probably was dialing number after number, my friends, work, Jason, who likely, also tortured the phone.

  Jason. Who would imagine? He hated everything in relation to the police. He couldn’t imagine working there even as a drug fantasy. If he would take drugs.

  Maybe I’m dreaming?

  If you looked at Alice in Wonderland what did you see? She went through such adventure and it was all a dream. It was true …

  Steve was talking, but I didn’t hear.

  “Sorry, what?” I turned to him.

  “Is it true that you can have as many husbands and wives as you want?” he asked.

  “That would be a dream for you?” I smiled. In a world where people were afraid to go outside and get put in jail, the question of legal polygamy was strange.

  The guy turned red, scratched behind his ear.

  “No, not really.”

  “On my planet, in my country, we can have only one legal spouse in one period of marriage,” I said. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “I can’t believe their lies! I probably won’t have one wife. People are scared to meet.”

  “Why?”

  “You never know if the person is really interested in you or wants to learn more information to report on you.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Steve nodded.

  “That’s just … How can you live without trusting anyone? So, you don’t have a girlfriend?”

  “I had one. We had an argument once. Not a big deal. I talked to my classmate and Eva became jealous. Somebody told her that I was seeing someone else. She trusted that somebody instead of me. Can you believe it? I spent hours talking to her, compelling her to trust me. It was useless.”

  The guy fell quiet.

  “She snitched on you?” I gasped.

  “That’s why I’m here. It’s my second year. Ronald took me under his wing. I wouldn’t survive by myself.”

  “They can’t put everyone in jail!”

  “Sure. They check people before throwing them in jail for good. Ronald’s father told us about the process. It’s like Kafka, really.”

  “You’ve read Kafka?”

  “He also was a writer in your world?”

  “So, everyone has a double. Or almost everyone. They just do different things. Kafka was a writer here and there. Interesting. How does it work? This process?”

  “If a person has anything that can be useful: like good education, money, connections. He probably would come to an interrogation and go home. They would tell him to be good and say bye. I didn’t have any of this. My family is not poor, but also not rich. We don’t have friends in the government. My dad and mom worked as team leaders at the factories. Those professions are
not good enough to keep their son out of jail. At eighteen, by law, I would get the full responsibility.”

  “Do you see your parents?”

  “I don’t want to contact them and get them in trouble. I know they are both at home. Both are healthy. That’s good. I hope all of this will be over soon and I can see them again.”

  His voice was so sad that I couldn’t help it; I reached over to him, and stroked his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’d love to get to your planet. Your life is so different.”

  “That’s true. I haven’t fully realized yet that your planet treats mine as some wild tribe. You know about us, we have no idea about you. You study our lives, we just live ours.”

  “You’re just like us?”

  “What did you think we look like? Antennas on our heads? Laser eyes?”

  “That’s aliens. I heard that you … less cultural.”

  “Details?”

  “Well … that you eat with your hands. Drink a lot of alcohol. Smoke.”

  I held my laugh back.

  “We eat with our hands. Sandwiches for instance.”

  “Sandwiches.” Steve scratched his chin. “I don’t remember this word.”

  “Bread with all kinds of stuff in the middle.”

  “Bread,” Steve mumbled.

  I rolled my eyes. I didn’t want to explain about bread and didn’t know how.

  “We drink, yes. Some a lot, some never. Depends on the person. I drink on holidays.”

  Steve bit his lower lip and listened, so carefully, as if I was telling him about the solar system, destroying his belief that the earth rested on three wheels.

  “People don’t smoke here?” I asked.

  “No. That’s so interesting. Velma didn’t tell us how you got here.”

  I opened my mouth to present a short and almost believable story. I didn’t feel like sharing details of my naivety with a young man that I barely knew. Before I could start talking, I heard the distant scream of sirens. It was getting louder with every second. Steve became tense, the smile vanished from his face; he stood up.