A heavy-set man stepped out of a shack, nestled at the base of the tower. He was dressed in faded rags made from fish and seal skins. Chewing on a piece of dried rat’s thigh-bone, Dino glared at Flynn. “Wadyawant Perry boy?” the man roared, his voice as loud as thunder. “The water rations ain’t here yet!”
“I need a ride up.”
“Get lost!” Dino spat a piece of bone and disappeared back inside his shack.
“C’mon, man… I don’t feel like climbing all the way up tonight!”
Dino’s head popped out. “I said get…,” he began, but stopped and squinted. Like a pendulum, a can of soda was dangling on a piece of string, inches from his face. He scratched his hairy chest then dragged his feet towards Flynn. “Gimmy that!” Dino cried, grabbing for the can. His massive hand closed over empty air.
Too late! Flynn had jumped a step back and stood grinning at the man. “First, you give me a ride in the elevator… Then I’ll give you this,” Flynn said and dangled the can again for Dino to see.
Dino’s eyes followed the swaying can, hypnotized by the sight of the rare drink. Grunting, he licked his lips. “Alright… Last time I’m doin’ it for you!”
Flynn was now walking behind Dino toward the elevator. From the back, you could easily mistake Dino for a gorilla, thought Flynn with a smile… He and Tony had come across a book about a giant ape called King Kong, and they had spent hours looking at the pictures inside. But it wasn’t just the ape that had fascinated the two boys. It was the images of New York City, with its original skyline before it had all changed. Dino was like a miniature King Kong, living on the roof and terrorizing the residents who had to walk past him every day. His hunched back was massive and covered with tufts of hair, his muscular arms reaching just below his knees. Yet, Dino’s stout legs seemed wobbly, struggling to carry his huge frame. He was getting old, Flynn thought. They would retire him soon, and the man would be gone…
Dino stopped by a rusty box frame that held an old truck wheel in its cradle. There was a crank sticking out of it. A cable coiled over the wheel, went up to the top of the tower, over another wheel, then down again, ending attached to a caged platform. More of a crude hoist than an elevator, really. “Hop in!” Dino barked and extended his open hand for the promised drink.
“You owe me two rides for this,” said Flynn, handing over the can. He stepped inside the cage and held on to its bars.
Dino shoved the can inside a small cubby hole, spat on his hands and grabbed the crank. The muscles on his arms bulged as he started working the winch. The platform jerked. The cage lifted off the ground and slowly started to rise, taking Flynn up, two feet at a time. He could hear a lot of grunting and swearing coming from below.
“Gettin heavy, boy!” Dino shouted.
“More like you’re running out of steam!” Flynn yelled back.
“Shut ya mouth!” Dino’s voice was fading as the elevator rose more quickly now.
Flynn took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The air was fresh up here, cooler and cleaner than anywhere else on the Archipelago… The ocean breeze gently ruffled his hair and, for the first time that day, Flynn allowed himself to relax a little. When he opened his eyes again, he turned to look at the other towers around him. With their meager lights flickering in the darkening sky, they resembled giant trees, planted on the rooftops and playing host to hundreds of fireflies.
The elevator slowed down and finally stopped. Flynn stepped onto the walkway encircling the tower, peered down and whistled. The cage began its noisy descent. The floor shook and creaked under Flynn’s feet as he headed toward the Perrys’ apartment. It was almost like the whole structure had come alive. It swayed and rattled with the wind, shuddered and groaned under the weight and movement of its inhabitants. But that didn’t bother Flynn one little bit… To him walking on a plank, hundreds of feet high in the sky, seemed like the most natural thing in the world… He didn’t know any different.
Flynn rounded the corner and stopped before the window of his apartment. He could see two shadows through the dirty plastic sheet covering the square hole in the wall. One was definitely his father’s, but Flynn couldn’t make out who their visitor was. He put his ear against the thin wall and listened to the voices inside.
“…I’m telling you Alan, this place is falling apart…” the visitor was saying, “These buildings won’t be standing tall for much longer. Trust me! Their foundations are crumbling… The water pressure… the corrosion… they’re doing their destructive work slowly, but surely! And then the supplies we all rely on… how much more do you think is left down there? We can’t scavenge the ocean bed forever, you know!”
“So?” Now, Flynn heard his father speak. “Clearly, there’s nothing we can do about it, is there?”
“Oh, but there is! And I’m not the only one who thinks that… There’re others, you know…”
“Others?” Alan Perry’s voice had fallen to a loud whisper. “Surely not more foolish talk of an uprising! You know what happened last time… Mullins and the rest of them are all gone!”
“Not that, Alan, not that!”
“What then?”
“I’m talking about… a way out of this place!”
“Escape from the Archipelago? Where could you go?”
“Dry Land!” said the man and then there was a long pause.
“You’re joking, right!” Flynn heard his father laugh hoarsely. “Where’s that? The Hudson Highlands… the Catskill Mountains… It’s just a bunch of contaminated lifeless rocks, you know that.”
“Farther west, Alan…. Much farther,” the man replied. “Here, hold the end of that wire, we’re almost done.”
“There’s no vessel on the Archipelago that can go that far… wherever this Dry Land is!”
“Ah, I won’t be so sure, Alan!”
“And even if you get that far… what about the Flood Virus?”
“There’s healthy land out there, I’m sure!”
“It’s just a dream, Walter!” Alan Perry said, sounding annoyed. “We’re just wasting time talking about it! Better see to that stove here.”
Both men went quiet for a while, busy with what they were doing. Flynn cleared his throat to let them know he was at the door and called out: “Hi, Dad! I’m back!” He then pulled the door flap aside and walked in.
The Perrys’ apartment was nothing more than a small room, crammed full of stuff, and with shelves and racks taking up all of the space along its four walls. All the racks were cobbled together from pieces of pipe and wood. The shelves and the sturdy filing cabinet were remnants of the office furniture that had survived the pillaging of their building after the Flood. Every shelf was piled high with junk, collected over many years. There were rusty cans, tins and glass jars filled with bits and pieces, as well as an assortment of broken electrical goods. There was even a lifeless computer sitting proudly in one corner. “You never know! We may need it for something one day,” Flynn’s dad liked to say, every time he brought home a pocketful of nails and screws or some object of no apparent value. Flynn had followed his example… he had kept all kinds of non-descript treasures from his dives, adding them to Alan Perry’s collection… and a lot of them had come in handy, one way or another. Of course, they weren’t the only ones hoarding stuff. The Lower Side was home to an extremely thrifty community, where every salvaged item could be used again to fix something broken… or to build something new. The main problem was that the Perry household was running out of storage and respectively, living space… But father and son kept their inventory growing, anyway.