A recent addition to their home was the “dining table” that Alan Perry had built from his hoard of junk. He had used dilapidated wooden crates, thrown a piece of plaster board over them and covered it all with a surprisingly intact plastic sheet. Flynn had found a couple of chairs, with their backs and a couple of legs missing, but his father had fixed those in no time. By the window were Flynn’s pride and joy… two rubber air-mattresses he had scavenged from a submerged warehouse. Next to the sleeping area was the kitchen counter where all the cooking was done. And finally, at the back of the room was the only luxury they could afford… their toilet. Most of the residents in their tower didn’t have the room for it, but the Perrys had enough space for a tiny curtained-off cubicle… This provided privacy for the household’s designated slop bucket.
Flynn now saw that the second figure, standing next to his father, was that of Mr. Walter Kowalski. He was a friend and a resident in their building. “For the Greater Good, gentlemen!” Flynn greeted the pair with exaggerated pathos and a cheeky grin on his face.
“Don’t be disrespectful, son!” Alan Perry scowled then added quickly, “You know these walls have ears!”
“Ah, the young Perry is back,” cried Mr. Kowalski, his face suddenly animated by a toothless smile. He was holding a piece of thick copper wire, coiled tight to form a flat disk. Mr. Kowalski belonged to a very small group of people who everyone called ancients. They were all well past the average retirement age of fifty-five. That was the cut-off point if you were healthy and made it that far along in life… If you were sick, crippled, or for any other reason unable to work and contribute to the community, you were retired much earlier. No one knew exactly how old Mr. Kowalski was… But everyone agreed he had to be at least seventy, if not older. The only reason he had not been put on the Departure List was because the man was a genius and therefore, irreplaceable… Everybody knew that Mr. Kowalski was the most brilliant of electricians and inventors that had ever lived on the Archipelago. He was kept around not only because he could fix anything electrical, but because he often performed miracles with the few tools and resources available on the city. The Government needed him, so that he could train a new generation of electricians, pass on the torch and teach them his tricks.
The reason the Lower Side had working lights, stoves and energy was thanks to Mr. Kowalski. The man had reinvented and rewired the ruined electrical system after the Flood. He and a group of other ancients were behind the unimaginably difficult task of restoring whatever energy sources remained… fixing the existing roof solar panels and adding new, algae-based ones for support. And these technical wizards were behind the building and maintenance of the two Generators, one for the Upper Side and other for the Lower. The Archipelago owed him big time… and the Government knew that.
Of course, Mr. Kowalski had been offered a much nicer place to live on the Upper Side, but he had declined. “I’ve lived on the Lower Side all my life,” he kept saying… “So I want to spend my last living days in the old neighborhood.” He had accepted one perk, though. Having never married, he was supposed to share his living space with others like him… But using his position with the Government, he had asked for an apartment of his own. Not for himself, really… Mr. Kowalski was a frugal man with little needs… No, he needed the space for his vast collection of tools and spare parts, which happened to be many times the size of the one the Perrys had amassed. And the reason his hoard was so huge was because he had a quirky fixation on the number 3! He had to have three of everything! Three identical pieces of wire, three stoves, three windows, three light-bulbs hanging from his ceiling… With three screwdrivers always in his back pocket, he would circle the building three times on his raft before entering it…. His apartment was on what was now considered the thirty-third floor… and, of course, three doors to the left of the elevator shaft. Yes, Mr. Kowalski was a strange man indeed…. But he was also a very nice man. A decent and kind man, Flynn thought, and he liked him a lot… and his amazing tool belt! As far as Flynn was concerned, Mr. Kowalski owned the coolest tool belt on the Lower Side… if not on the whole Archipelago.
“Flynn!” Alan Perry said, folding his arms across his chest. “What time do you call this?”
“Dad…”
“You should’ve been home hours ago, young man!”
“Traffic was bad… there was an accident…”
“No, no! Don’t give me any of that stuck-in-traffic stuff! I’ve heard it all before.” Flynn’s father had now gone red in the face. “That’s it… No diving tomorrow! You’re coming with me to the Watch Tower!”
“Go easy on him, Alan!” Mr. Kowalski said softly. “You were young once, too. He’s a good lad!”
“I know Walter,” Alan Perry said. “But… I come back from my shift… the stove wire blows up… Flynn’s nowhere to be found! If it wasn’t for Mr. Kowalski, we might’ve had a fire on our hands.”
Flynn shuddered at the thought… It brought memories of not so long ago when a fire had ripped through one of the towers across from their building. It had burned down in minutes. Flynn still remembered the faces of the terrified occupants, their clothes ablaze, leaping out of windows and falling in the water below. No one had survived.
“Ah, but we fixed the problem, didn’t we, Alan!” Mr. Kowalski grinned and waved the copper wire disk. “All we need now…,” he said as he leaned over the kitchen counter, his fingers dancing around the stove and doing their magic, “…is to connect this wire… then tie a few loose ends, and… there you are! You’ve got yourself a new stove!”
“I don’t know how to repay you for this Walter…”
“Oh, no worries, Alan. You owe me nothing.” Mr. Kowalski started to gather his tools. “I know it’s hard to find copper down here… Like everything else, it all goes to the Upper Side… and nowadays, it’s never enough even there!”
“Are you serious?” Flynn’s father cocked an eyebrow. “Shortages on the Upper Side? I’ve heard rumors, but…”
“It’s the truth, Alan! Things don’t look good!” Mr. Kowalski sighed, lowering his voice. “The Scavenger Crews are bringing up less and less copper… we’ll run out sooner, rather than later… I’ve been saying this for a few years now, but Van Zandt doesn’t want to hear any bad news…”
“Hey, I can find you wire!” said Flynn. “No sweat!”
They both looked at him.
“There must be tons of it down in the Subway system,” Flynn told them. “Next time I go there, I can…”
“You’ll do no such thing, young man!” Alan Perry’s firm voice cut him off. “That’s way too deep of a dive! Even the best Free Scavs haven’t tried to go down there! And for a very good reason, too.”
“But…” Flynn tried to argue, “I’ve already been there…”
“Your dad’s right, Flynn.” Mr. Kowalski patted him on the shoulder. “It’s good to be brave, but being reckless is another thing.”
Alan Perry nodded his head in agreement.
“We just have to find other solutions,” said Mr. Kowalski solemnly, “otherwise, this place is doomed!”
Alan Perry gave his son a hard stare then turned back to Mr. Kowalski. “Well, at least stay and have dinner with us, won’t you?”
“Perhaps another time, Alan,” said Mr. Kowalski. “I’ve cooked myself a nice little stew of red peppers tonight. I was fixing the wires at one of the rooftop greenhouses and… you know… they’ve just had their new crop harvest… so they gave me a whole basket to take home.” Mr. Kowalski shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “The perks of my job,” he mumbled as he zipped his tool bag and started toward the door.