A Place Called Anomie - Chapters 1 & 2

A Place Called Anomie

Chapter 1

The man walked into the area from the east.  Behind him was the city.  In front of him what?  Not far ahead, down the narrowing street, there were, what appeared to be, large factories.  Not large bustling modern factories of shining chrome and glass and steel, but old factories, the kind you would see in old towns with old people with old minds.  The city gradually faded behind the man.

As the man approached the decrepit factory buildings they grew taller, about 6 stories tall, A row of these 6 story buildings on each side of the street.  The man could see that the red brick from which they were constructed was withered like the weathered scales of some large red beast, the mortar between the bricks discolored by green mold and what appeared to be some of the red blood leaking out of the aging brick.

The roadway had definitely narrowed.  Still a two lane street but inappropriately narrow for a factory area.  The bright white stripe down the middle of the street divided it into lanes of, oh, probably eight feet.  Large trucks would find it difficult to pass.  But there were, or are, no trucks, no hustle, no bustle.

The man is looking down at the sidewalk - a normal concrete sidewalk about 3' wide with expansion cracks; it gradually changes into an 18" gravel path.  The man has to stop counting the cracks in the sidewalk because they aren't there anymore.  He has a fleeting thought that he can now count the pieces of gravel but he is distracted,  He notices that the 18" path is bordered, on either side, by an 18" strip of grassy, weedy dirt.  Since he is walking east to west, he believes, on the right side of the street,  the row of buildings is to the right of the right hand strip of unimpressive dirt and the street is to the left of the left hand strip.  The street appears, though the man knows that appearances can be deceiving he doesn't really care, to be about 16 feet wide.  That would make the distance between the factory buildings to his right and the bright white stripe down the middle of the street 12"-6'.  And since the other side of the street is probably the same as this side, there is 25' between the rows of buildings.  If these dimensions are a little bit off it makes no difference; none of this has anything to do with our story.

The man is getting a sore neck from looking down for so long. His joints are not in the best of condition because he is older than he was in the past.  He looks up, twists his head from side to side, up, and down, limbering it - he looks in front of himself for the first time in quite some time and says, "Ah. I guess I should be looking where I'm going".  There is no one to hear him so he may be speaking to himself.  "I could have bumped into something if there had been anything there to bump into."  He may have glimpsed a cross street far ahead, but we cant be sure.

He then looks up to the top of the factory buildings for the first time, not counting the time he was limbering his neck, and taking all appearances into consideration, he determines that the tops of the buildings are leaning in towards each other.  There is definitely less than 25' between the tops of the buildings where he is standing and not to far in the distance they are already touching.  He determines that the buildings are not leaning, but that the tops are curving towards each other so that eventually they will join and form an arch.  Then, I suppose, he will be walking through a long arched tube, or corridor, and it will probably be dark inside and he hasn't brought a light.  This doesn't occur to him.  But he would probably not see it as a problem because, as we have said, none of this that has happened so far has anything to do with our story.

Eventually the man gets to the cross street which is running from north to south, or so he determines on the basis of his presumption that he has been walking from east to west.  "Hellooooo", he calls.  He still has seen no people, no cars, no bicycles, no signs of life except the weeds and grasses along the paths between the factory buildings and now the weeds and grasses here in the tiny front yards of the rows of homes along the street that is running from north to south.  He makes a left turn down the street and again says, "Helloooo".  He glances left and down, and as if in answer to his call he sees, in the little front yard of the home on the corner, on the ground, a small birds nest with three marble sized blue eggs.  Undoubtedly robins eggs.  The first sign of animal life in this neighborhood which the man is begining to find exceedingly strange.  Everyone knows that a robins nest does not belong on the ground, so the man carefully picks it up and  places it on the window sill of the home, which is set back aproximately  8' from the sidewalk, making the tiny front yard 8' deep.

The man is somewhat bewildered.  He looks from side to side, still wondering where everyone is, and realizes he is not sure why he is here.  In fact he is sure he has no idea why he is here. He thinks, "Well, since I don't know why I'm here I guess I might as well just go back to the hotel.  If I can find my way back. I can just try to retrace my steps.  But as long as I'm here shouldn't I look around?  I don't have any good reason that I know of to go back to the hotel and maybe if I look around a bit I'll remember why I came here in the first place.  Then when I get done here I can walk back to the hotel from the opposite direction."  That was his reasoning, and he is usually a very reasonable man.

As the man walks down the street,  not counting the cracks in this sidewalk because it doesn't matter now.  (If you don't understand some things that are going on, or being said in this narrative don't blame me - I don't know anymore than you do.  I'm just ther narrator.  You'll have to talk to the author for any kind of definitive answers).  The man studies the houses 8' to his left and across the street to his right.  He thought of them as homes before, but has decided to just think of them as houses until he sees some people. 

(Narrator again.  I spoke prematurely.  The author has just usurped some of my responsibility.  He has INSTRUCTED me to say something!  I don't think that is right. Now you won't know where the writing stops and the story telling begins!  He says I should say:):  It just crossed my mind.  I am, as narrator of this man's adventure, not sure what tense I have been using.  I apologize if it has been confusing.  I am sure though, that I have just used the present or past tense and that is quite acceptable for my purposes.  However, I must avoid the future tense because I don't want to give away any of the man's adventure before it happens. (See what I mean?).

The man is still looking at the houses.  They remind him of the factory buildings.  But the houses are only three stories tall rather than 6, set further back from the street, have about a 3' walk way between them rather than walls touching, windows (in the houses) and front doors and a stoop made up of 5 steps.  Oh, and some of the houses are made of stone rather than red brick, every third one in fact.

The man continues walking for a while, looking at the houses - their doors and windows and stoops.  He knows he is walking north,  because before he was walking west, between the factory buildings, and turned left when he got to the street of houses, which he is now more and more hopefull will turn into homes.  The anxiety is becoming somewhat severe, so he again says,"Helloooo", a little louder than before.  He hears no reply, but, yes!, there seems to be some movement in front of one of the houses on the other side of the street in front of him to the south. ( Is he turned around again?)  He estimates the movement to be about 25 houses away, but now the direction 'South' seems to be slipping away, but that is what he's thinking.  Anyway, the man bravely crosses the street and starts counting houses.  As he gets closer to number 25 he sees a boy sitting on the top step of the stoop, just putting his hand back in his lap.  The movement was the boy waving when he heard the man say, "Hellooo".  The boy's house is one made of stone and the man feels some of the anxiety lifting.  Maybe this one is a home.

A Place Called Anomie

Chapter - 2

"Mistuh? Uh mistuh?  OK. I wait.  getin tied o watin.  Hum, hum.  ho hum." The boy said.  Sometime later he said, "yoo hoo mistuh.  I no yu alive.  U R standin up an U R brethin an u eyes is binkin."  The man finally spoke, "Of course my eyes are blinking, the sun is shining directly into my eyes.  What direction am I facing?"  "4wards I tink?",  Questioned the boy.  "That explains it", stated the man, and he walked up the steps of the stoop to the top step, I believe step number 5, and sat next to the boy so he was facing backwards rather than forward, so that the sun was no longer shining directly into his eyes and said, "May I join you?"  The boy asked the man why he took so long to start talking.  "I thought I was talking.  I was wandering around being lost in a strange place, and I think probably being afraid that I wouldn't be able to find my way back to my hotel, and wondering why there were no people around here, and I saw you, and thought I had a long conversation with you.  Apparently I was mistaken.  I'm not sure what the case or condition might be.  Let's just say that I was dreaming or cataleptic."  "K", said the boy.  "Oh da nex st. ober these some catalpa treees, ifn youse intrested."  "Interesting", thought the man, and then said it outloud.  Then the man asked the boy why this area was so different from the rest of _____ City, why there were no people around besides the boy himself, why there were no dogs, cats, birds (except eggs), bicycles, rats or anything.  Then he asked the boy if he could explain how to get back to his hotel.  Then he asked the boy what kind of strange accent he had.  Then he decided he should shut up if he actually wanted the boy to answer his questions.

"U done?", queried the boy when the man finally stopped for about 10 seconds. "Yes", smiled the man, "You may now answer my questions."  "Me Pa tell i naint spose to talc ta srungers, butt i dunt give no dam. s'ill ansur ur qestuns.  ah lick to have sumon ta talc ta. But firsun til me yo name or u jus wnt me ta cal ya mistuh?" "My name is G. A______ but you can call me G if you like".  And then G asked the boy what his name might be.  The boy said, "It mebe A. G____...., but it snot, is Al, and ahm gona cull you Gee cuz have a hurd time ponoughncin G." 
"That sounds great Al!  Now you want me to repeat my questions? I could really use some answers".
"Na, Gee, no neds fo reps - I tuck notes", and then Al went on, "Fust Gee, dis aireah look difunt fum da rez of da City cuz it a difunt area, y wud u expec it 2 luk da same? - ifn dat wat u spectin. U shud spect ever difint ara  ta luck difint. Mebe ifn u spectin ever difint aira ta luck da same, mebe it wud, but wat fun wud dat B? N fo futur refs this aira is a neigh-bore-hud n da peps what lib hear and cum here cull it da nayborhod of Anomie.  Next.  Y dey aint mo peepul round?  Sum times dey is.  Sumtimes dey is toooo manys round - times it WAY to noisey and NOSEY.  rite now it jus me, latur there be to maney, proly a nite. Dogs, cats,burds, bikes and eggs, moor or minus at difunt times.  An easie ta git ta U hotel.  Ifn u member adres jus put it in u GPS. Ifn ya done member da adres ifn ya cin scribe da place I kin proly find it fur ya.  An I dunt hab no acent.  I jus don spel so gud".
"Thanks", nodded G., "That explains everything.  I greatly appreciate your help Al.  Now if you could show me a place where I could get something to eat.  I seem to be ravenously hungry and also very tired.  I should eat a bite then get back to my hotel for some sleep."
"luck ta me dat dere aint no plce opin ta eet.  I cud take ya up ta mi n my pas apt. n fix ya sumpin.  But ifn ma pa fine out he sure B mad, but watta hell les go up!"  I think maybe Al was a little hungry also.  Al stood up and stretched and G. thought it strange how creaky and and cracky and crunchy Al's bones and joints seemed to be for a boy who didnt look any older than 8 or 9.  Maybe he has a hard life in Anomie.

Al took a big bunch of keys out of his pocket.  The keys each had a big colorful magic marker mark.  The most color G. had seen all day.  It was quite some time before G. and Al got into Al's apartment.  There were many locks on the front door.  The keys were color coded, but the locks weren't.  It appeared to G. that possibly the front door locks were in order of keys on the ring, starting from the key marked with the black mark.  Once through the front door and after it was relocked, they went down a long hallway.  G. followed Al for several minutes it seemed.  It was hard to imagine that the hallway could be so long - that the building was so deep.  As they approached the end of the hallway G. had it figured out - He was very proud of himself for figuring it out.  There was also a front door on the opposite end of the hallway, the building went across the whole block to the next street.  There was bound to be an outside behind this door at the far end of the hallway - most likely with a stoop and stairs and street, and another building across the street - probably a stone building rather than brick if the same pattern was being followed.  But there was a difference.  At this end of the hallway the first door, rather than an apartment number said stairway.  ( I think I forgot to mention that the hallway was lined with numbered apartment doors.  Staggered so no door was directly across from another, but equidistant between the two nearest on the opposite side of the hallway.)  We had to walk a block to reach the stairs! ( I mean they had,  or we.  Whatever).  Luckily the numerous locks on this stairway door were color coded.  G. is becoming hungrier so I'll speed up the narrative.  Door unlocked - hurried through - relocked - hurried up three flights of stairs - sprint a block back to the other end of the hall - Apt. 301 - unlock numerous locks - enter apt. - relock.  Whew!  Now Al and G. can relax!

"Sowy Gee but awl we gota et is eggs."
"That's ok", says G., "I love eggs.  Can I have three?"
"Sure", Al replies, and goes to the refrigerator, getting G. three hardboiled eggs, previously peeled, picking off some tiny bits of shell before handing them to G.  "Here Gee - hoop ya lick em.  I alays try ta han out ony eggs dat r perfict cleen an smooth."
"Thank you Al - These look lovely"  G., the man, had been looking around the room - He thought he might say to Al that the room looked different from any room he had ever seen, but then thought better of the idea - of course it looked diferent - he had never seen it before - or had he?  Yes - the room was two dimensional, (He should have said 'is' - 'was' implies time, since time is a dimension,  if time were involved there would only be one dimension of space - and G. wouldnt be able to see the room at all.  But thats a different story), "So", supposed G., "I must also be two dimensional at the moment."  And then he said, (or thought), "No it doesnt look so different - I have seen this very same room in a Van Gogh painting!"  He didn't say this outloud, Al probably didn't hear what he was thinking."'You sure et dem eggs quick",  quipped Al.
"Guess I liked them", replied G., "I didn't even realize I was done.  I've been admiring your apartment".
"Dont sim like much admirable ta me - but den Ah sees it aw da time - it does luck lot betah when Pa aint here - he so dam ugly - in da haid, mind & bodey - an proly hisn soul to.  he deeetraks fum da ambiance of whurever he at!'
"Does your Pa work?"
"He tinks he does - he goes out - to a bar - The Same One - Dats da name of ut - he git mo an mo drunk til he caint ardley walk - den he come home, (When G. hears this - he is relieved to hear that he has found a home and not just a house), and usley bring sumpin ta eat - usley eggs - and usley sum stuf ta make hisn art.  He tink he an artiste.  He take his mirror pitures ta sel at da bar.  Dat wur he git da money ta pay fur da booze, art stuf, and dem deluscious eggs."
"That's a lot of information for my sleepy head to handle", sighs G., "Is your Pa's name Vincent?"
"Hunh?", says Al, "No, Y?"
"Never mind", G. continues, "Where are the pictures? I like art.  Can I see some?"
"In da bedrum.  True dat dore.  Ya kin go in an luk aroun.  I wait here an cum git u ifn u need hep".
G. started through the door and was going to ask Al why he might need help, but before he got the words out he saw.  The bedroom was much larger than G. expected and it certainly wasnt two dimensional like the other room.  A pleasant vertigo wrapped both inside and outside of G.'s head - he realized it was going to take a good long while to determine just what order of dimensionality the room was.  That's what I assume he thought.  All he said was, "WOW"!
He closed the door so he could lean against it, he realized it would be a while before his equilibtium would be restored, until then he was sure he would fall on his face if he tried to walk.  You might say you have to get your sea legs when you move from ship to shore, and when you move from two demensionality to whatever the hell, (or heaven), THIS is!
I would try, if possible, to describe to you, my dear readers, what G. saw as he looked around the room in awe - I will try to read G.'s mind and emotions, and then translate all of these perceptions into human language, (don't worry.  I'm sure I can), Where to start!?  Let's try to focus our eyes - Rough cut hardwood floor - Hard to tell how large a room - G. leaning against door -  garish flowered wallpaper - Window on one wall, or a mirror with a reflection of outside - two small brass beds off in the distance in the far corners, one in each corner, or is one a reflection of the other? - Or reflections of other brass beds outside of our viewing range?  The only other things in the room are mirrors and stands and easels holding the mirrors, but not really mirrors at all - Pictures of mirrors, and reflections of pictures of mirrors.  Personally I would be terrified if I walked into a room like that, but G. just looked around in awe - Or maybe that is his dumbfounded expression.  He thinks it amazing, at any rate.  Al's Pa is indeed an artist, (I'm not going to use quotes for G.'s thoughts for a while).  G., finally able to take two steps forward, turns around and sees a mirror on the door, a painting of a mirror.  If it was a mirror painted on the door I would be able to see my reflection, but I can't, so it must be  a painting of a mirror hanging on the door.  He then walked two more steps into the room - he tried to take in all the mirrors and, or, the pictures of mirrors.  I can see my reflection in some - if that's really me - I should assume those are REALLY mirrors and not pictures of mirrors.  But, strangely, when G. moved his reflection in the supposed mirrors did NOT move.  Slowly walking betwen two rows of facing mirrors - seeing reflections of reflections into infinity.  I am trying to imagine it - beginning to wish I were there, but no reflections for me - I must be satisfied to reflect on G.'s observations - as reported to me by the author - I have a headache - think I need a nap!

"Al!, I need HELP!, HELP!!", and just like that Al was at G.'s side.
"So Gee ya laike Pa's stuf? u evur c so money ga dam mirrs?", Laughed Al.
"But they're just pictures of mirrors aren't they?  They seem so real!", said G., headache increasing.
"U gota git use to em", replied Al," win Pa pants  a mirur on a board it ax like a mirur cuz dats wat it is.  Win he paints a pichur of a mirur you kin do all kindsa stuf wit it.  Times he paint  a pichur of a mirr atop a mirrer he pain afore.  Weird effex."
"I think I need to lie down, Al, old buddy, I think I might puke up my eggs if I don't lie down for a bit", groaned G.
"Okies Gee, pick a bed - ah tink dey both rel, but if dey flexions dat ok to, dey wuk jusa same."
"So tired", moaned G., "so sleepy - afraid I might fall asleep if I lay down but I might throw up if I don't."
"Beta not fall tasleep fo 2 long - Pa proly B home purty soon - no telin wat he do if fine ya'll here.  I kin make it look as so ya disapeer ifn I put da pichurs right, but usley dunt work wit Pa cuz he kin see flexions ah caint."
At this point G. was blinking and walking in circles round and round the bed.  Humming a little tune.  Al started arranging pictures of mirrors on easels around the bed G. had chosen.  G. was still wandering around bewildered.  At least he was smiling, (or is smiling - I'm beginning to forget when we are).  Al keeps steering him back inside the growing ring of pictures.  G. mills around between the bed and pictures - smiling when one reflects - frowning when one doesnt.
"Yo! - GEE MAN!!", giggles Al, "Git or here n lay down - u gona fal down ifn u don lay down soon - but yo gots B outa here fore Pa git home."  Al gently coaxes G. to the bed - gets him to lie down and tucks him in.  G. grins foolishly.  "So - Gee, watsa adres a yur hotel?"
"Gobble, gobble", said G., but Al understood.  Al entered the address in G.'s GPS and returned it to the inside pocket of his wrinkly suit coat.  Al pushed the button on the GPS.  G. smiled at his reflection in the mirror, and dozed off, as he watched his reflection disapear.

2 B continued