Vladimir Todorov - Archipelago N.Y. - Flynn

Alan Perry’s eyes darted from the door flap to the rusty clock sitting on the shelf next to it. It was almost dawn. The sun would rise in an hour or so. Where was his boy? In his mind, he’d gone through all the possibilities… Flynn caught and arrested at the Black Market… injured in some kind of accident… lying dead at the bottom of the ocean… But deep down in his heart, Alan Perry knew it wasn’t any of that… He knew Flynn was safe somewhere out there, spending a second night alone because he was angry… Because Alan Perry had failed to praise his son on the biggest day of his life… to show respect and acknowledge Flynn’s achievement. He sighed and lowered his gaze. Suddenly, his eyelids felt heavy. He let them close and before he knew it, he had dozed off.

The sound of heavy footsteps outside on the tower’s walkway made Alan Perry jump in his seat. He turned his head back to the door, his eyes full of renewed hope. Was that Flynn? The steps stopped a few doors away. It was quiet for a moment. He strained his ears and listened. Someone was having a hushed conversation which ended abruptly and was followed by the slam of a door. A female voice cried out and then began to sob. He recognized it immediately. It was Mrs. Voinovich, their neighbor. He glanced at the clock again… it was the crack of dawn. This could only mean one thing, he thought as a cold shiver ran down his spine. The Departure List was out! It had begun, then!

Alan Perry rose stiffly from his chair. The footsteps echoed closer now. Two heart-beats later, there was a knock on his door. Slowly, he walked over and threw open the plastic flap. Vince Jordan, the burly Chief of Security, flanked by two of his guards, filled the door frame.

“For the Greater Good, gentlemen! How can I help you?” Alan Perry said softly.

Jordan checked his hand-held device then stared blankly at him. “Are you Alan Perry?”

“That’s me.”

Vince Jordan cleared his throat. “Mr. Perry, you’ve been selected for…”

“I know why you’re here,” Flynn’s father said quietly. “What do you want me to do?”

Expecting trouble or some kind of resistance, the two guards tensed, their hands gripping their gun holsters. Jordan looked into the room past Alan Perry’s shoulder. “You alone?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Very well!” Vince Jordan said, taking a deep breath before starting on his well-rehearsed speech. “You’ll be escorted to the designated platform from where the Departure car will take you the Van Zandt Building. That’s where you’ll be spending the week before the Ceremony takes place. Don’t bring anything, except small personal stuff you want to take with you on your journey. Everything else will be provided for you during your last days on the Archipelago. You’ll be allowed one visit, if you have any close relatives. That’s pretty much it, Mr. Perry!”

“Thank you,” said Alan Perry. “Can I have a minute to myself, please?” He couldn’t believe how calm he was. How easily he had accepted his fate. Not only that, but he was thanking them for delivering his death sentence! He was prepared, of course. He knew he wasn’t going to put up a fight, argue, or beg… but Alan Perry was still surprised at how peaceful his resignation had been.

Vince Jordan seemed equally puzzled. “OK, Mr. Perry,” he shrugged, took a step back then stopped, suddenly feeling suspicious. “Err…” he hesitated and threw a quick glance around the room, as if expecting to find a back door or some kind of secret exit out of the apartment. “Please, don’t make it difficult for us! We want you to go nice and easy, no drama!” Jordan had now adopted Van Zandt’s turn of phrase and was happy to be using it as his own.

“I won’t give you any trouble!” said Alan Perry, also glancing round the room.

“Your cooperation is appreciated.” Vince Jordan motioned to his guards, and they all stepped back.

Alan Perry slowly closed the plastic door flap and returned to the table. He leaned on it and stood like that for a long moment… Then, taking a piece of old algae-pressed paper and a piece of charcoal out of his pocket, he scribbled something on it. He slid the note under one of the plates on the table and took a deep breath. There was a soft knock on the door.

“Mr. Perry?” Jordan’s voice sounded impatient.

“I’m ready.”

Alan Perry didn’t bother taking anything with him. There was no point, he thought and stepped through the door of his apartment for the very last time.

Flynn woke up with a start, his body stiff and shivering. He wasn’t sure if it was his father talking to him in his dream, or the early morning chill that had interrupted his sleep. It was still dark, but the edge of the eastern horizon was starting to glow pink with the rising sun. His hand grabbed under the seat for something to cover himself with. He picked up a tangled fishing net and spread it over his body, then curled up for a few more hours of sleep. The sun would be soon be overhead, and then the heat would wake him up. He was starting to drift off back to sleep again, when… splat! The foul smelling blob of a seagull’s droppings landed on his face.

“Damn it!” Flynn cursed loudly and sat up. He used the fishing net to wipe himself quickly and shoved it back under the seat. What were the odds of that happening where he was? Far out to the west, with the Archipelago a good mile away in the distance, and nothing but water around him… He rubbed his eyes and stood up. Fully awake, all the dark thoughts from the night before came rushing back into his head… His father’s disappointment, Madison’s betrayal and Leo’s quest for revenge… They were all jostling for space… Flynn stretched and looked up at the sky. Although it was brighter and growing more cheerful in color, Flynn was in no mood to savor its beauty.

He threw his diving harness on and buckled it, then picked up the jar with the seal blubber and started to cover his skin with the thick layer of its heat preserving grease. Flynn knew that nothing cleared his head better than an early morning dive… Taking deep breaths of air to fill his lungs, Flynn walked to the edge of his raft. He focused on the spot where he was going to enter the water, stood on the tip of his toes and dived in.

The cable car screeched to a halt next to the rooftop platform. It was the usual converted school bus shell, except it had the word ‘Departure’ stenciled in black on its faded yellow paint. Alan Perry took one last look at the tower he had lived in for most of his life and stepped inside the cable car. He walked past the two guards standing by the door and found an empty seat. He had seen the Departure car in previous years, making its rounds and collecting its passengers on their final journey through the Lower Side. But then, Alan Perry had been looking from the outside, never paying much attention… it was just the way life went… Now it was different! He was inside, riding the car together with his own Departure group. He was a part of it and there was no going back!

Alan Perry glanced over the rest of his fellow passengers, men and women, all roughly around his age. Most sat on their own. Some were red eyed, some were sobbing quietly. Most looked stunned and lost to the world. He knew some of them, like Mrs. Voinovich, his neighbor… They were the only two chosen from their building… As for the rest of the passengers in the car, he was going to get to know them during their Departure week. No one spoke much. There was the occasional ‘You, too?’ and ‘Sorry to see you here!’ whispered when they stopped to pick up more people on their way to the Van Zandt Building.