Rapture: The Big Daddy

by Dustin Brubaker

  The man nodded vaguely as his half-lidded eyes settled on the clocks. “I was wondering if you had any of those skeleton clocks. You know, with the exposed cogs and all that.”

  “Not at the moment. I didn’t bring much of my stock with me, so what you see here is about all I have right now,” I admitted. “But a skeleton clock, you say? I can have one for you in about a week.”

  “Ah.” The man’s face brightened. “So you takin’ special orders and whatnot? I might like to pick out the details.”

  “Of course.” I pulled my pen and pad of paper from the pocket of my shirt. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, maybe I shoulda brought the lady down here,” he said with a sheepish laugh. “She’s got quite a particular taste, that one does.”

  “Is it a gift for her?”

  “Sure is.”

  “Bring her down anytime and we’ll work something out,” I said, tucking the pen and paper away for now. “But if you’re sure it’s a skeleton clock you want, I can go ahead and get started with the basics.”

  “That’d be great.”

  “Are you looking for a wall clock, a wrist watch -- ”

  “Something like this,” he said, pointing to a mantle clock finished with oak and brass. “About that size and shape.”

  “That I can do.”

  “So.” His hands slid into the pockets of his slacks as he continued to peruse my display. “Where are you from?”

  “Ohio,” I replied. “Cleveland, to be specific.”

  “Ah. That’s the one near Lake Erie, right?”

  “You got it.”

  “Nice. Never been, but it sounds nice. Anything by a lake’s nice, right?” He looked serious, but then a smile spread over his lips. As if he just realized the humor in what he’d said. “Look at where I’m sayin’ this. We’re in the frickin’ middle of the ocean right now. Sometimes I forget...”

  I couldn’t imagine that being hard to forget, but maybe after a while, it was possible.

  “So where are you from?” I asked.

  “Pontus Flats, over on the south end of Apollo Square,” he said. For a moment, he left it at that, but it was quickly followed with a laugh. “No, I know what you mean. Jefferson City. Jefferson City, Missouri.”

  “Yeah? How long have you been down here?”

  “Oh, it’s been about five years now,” he said, absently scratching at the patchy stubble on his chin. “Came down with dreams of owning my own business and becoming the next Andrew Ryan, but I’m working over at Fontaine’s Department Store now. Bathysphere DeLuxe, actually. Turns out I’m pretty handy myself when it comes to fixing things.”

  I simply nodded at that. I was curious about why things didn’t seem to have worked out for him, but I didn’t want to pry. And I didn’t want it to deter me from my own dream.

  “So in other words, if you’re ever in the market for a private bathysphere, I’m your guy,” he said, indicating himself with his thumb. “I know my way around one of those better than a woman these days. Anyway, speaking of women, I’ll try bringing my lady around this weekend. You’ll be open then, right?”

  I nodded. “Open every day of the week.” Down here, religion and church were long forgotten. Just about every establishment was open on Sundays. “I’ll have some sketches ready for you then.”

  “Thanks. Looking forward to it,” he said, shaking my hand again. He pulled his hat back on as he headed for the door. “It’s been nice makin’ your acquaintance.”

  “Same here.” I smiled as he left. The bell signaled his exit. Through the shop windows I watched him walk down the boulevard for a moment before returning to my workbench behind the counter.

  My first custom order.

  ***

  That Sunday, Lionel did in fact return to my shop with his wife. We talked for about an hour and designed the clock of her dreams. I used the sizeable deposit to treat Clara and I to a nice dinner and a show at one of Sander Cohen’s shows. It was our sixth wedding anniversary. I bought her that latest record from Grace Holloway, an up-and-coming jazz singer whom she fawned over, and she almost wanted to skip the play and go straight home to give it a listen.

  We left Maddie with a friend of Clara’s at Artemis Suites -- a fellow mother, whose child was friends with Maddie. To be honest, she probably didn’t even notice we were gone. Too wrapped up in watching her favorite new cartoon: Ryan the Lion and Peter the Parasite.

  Clara was dressed to the nines, donning a new dress from that high fashion place up in High Street. She looked like a million bucks in that green strapless gown.

  Not wanting me to drag her down -- or at least, that’s how it seemed from my view of things -- she bought me a new suit, which was by far the most expensive thing I’d worn since our wedding. And even that tux had been just a rental.

  We took our seats in the audience as the lights dimmed around us. Clara flipped through her bulletin. The name of the musical was Patrick and Moira. Her friends had recommended it to her as a must-see, so here we were.

  “I hear his name all over the place. Apparently he’s quite the artistic genius here in Rapture,” she said quietly as I settled beside her.

  “Hm? Who’s that?”

  “Sander Cohen.” She indicated his name in big letters on the playbill. “Sculptor, poet, composer, playwright. Seems like he does a little bit of everything around here.”

  “Cohen? I think I’ve heard that name before,” I said, remembering as spotlights hit the stage. “Didn’t he write Rapture’s anthem?”

  Clara nodded. “’Rise, Rapture, Rise,’ if I’m not mistaken.”

  If there was anything that could be said for the people that comprised this place known as Rapture, it was that they were far from humble. It was almost refreshing to see such unbridled confidence. Here, there was no one to shame you into stepping back into line, to holding back and being average. It was a place where everyone was free to excel however they liked. And if that meant a guy with a face caked up with exaggerated makeup wanted to crash the stage in the middle of his own play and usurp the lead female’s role… who was I to judge?

  Besides, the play was a little weird even before that.

  ***

  Before I knew it, three years had gone by. Raced by, it seemed. And in that time, my shop grew. We relocated to High Street. Now, I had four employees on my payroll, and it felt like we hardly ever closed. Everyone in Rapture knew Ticks, and everyone knew the quality watches and clocks we produced here.

  We’d moved from Apollo Square to Olympus Heights, although the lower-end section of the district. Now, we called Athena’s Glory home. It was a far cry from Artemis Suites. Maddie loved it all the same. Clara, more so.

  Our little girl was doing great at Ryan the Lion. Top of her class, two years running. We started getting solicitations from other schools, all vying to have her as a student. Schools were competitive down here, all in search of the brightest students, all hoping to churn out as many future innovators as possible. Maddie was everyone’s idea of the perfect daughter. I could only imagine how difficult keeping the boys away from her would be in another five years.

  I headed home from another long but productive day at work as the lights of the boardwalk on High Street dimmed, signaling the beginning of the evening hours. When I reached our apartment, I found it empty. The lights were off. I flicked them on and found a note on the kitchen counter.

  Hi Honey,

  I’m taking Madeline out for some shopping at Fontaine’s. We should be back not long after you get home from work. I’ve got something special for dinner planned, so don’t ruin your appetite!

  Love,

  Clara

  I smiled as I read over it again, then undid the first few buttons of my shirt and opened the collar a little before sinking into my brown recliner. I grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and settled in for the latest edition of Rapture Reports.

  An hour went by, and then two. The news was over and a documentary a
bout the life of Andrew Ryan was playing.

  A third hour passed. It was nearing nine o’clock. By then, I’d already left Athena’s Glory and grabbed the first train headed for Fontaine’s Department Store. It was unusual for Clara to be late. For anything. Maybe she and Maddie had just lost track of time -- that store was practically a whole world in itself. But something about it didn’t sit right with me.

  I was still trying to decide which department to check first as I entered the building. Just about each one seemed viable, so I had quite the task ahead of me.

  I approached the clerk at the front desk of the lobby to ask if she’d seen Clara and Maddie around. Rapture was still only just a city, and not a very big one when it came to population, so it was easy to remember people. Before the question could leave my mouth, I heard a familiar voice. Clara’s.

  “No, please! Can’t you just -- Until we find her,” she said, sobbing through her hands. She was standing a ways over on the other side of the lobby. A security guard stood before her. “She can’t have gone far.”

  “Ma’am,” the security guard said with a sigh, “we can’t close down the entire building for one lost little girl.”

  Before I knew what I was doing, I had shouldered past a crowd of people who’d gathered around.

  “Clara? What’s wrong? Where’s Maddie?” I asked, noticing she wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  Clara’s eyes were red. Her mascara had smeared and trailed down her cheeks. “Oh, Arthur! She’s gone! I can’t find her anywhere. I looked and looked -- ” Her words were cut short when she grasped my shoulders and buried her face in my chest.

  My heart raced hard at the thought, but I tried to keep calm. Maddie usually wasn’t one to wander. How could this happen?

  “Where? Have you looked everywhere? Where did you last see her?” I asked frantically. “How long ago was this?”

  “Almost two hours,” she choked out. “We were in the bookstore up on the third floor. She asked if she could look at the books in the children’s aisle. I said yes, but when I came to check on her a few minutes later, she was gone.”

  “Sir, we’re currently in the midst of searching building top to bottom,” the security guard said, looking annoyed. “If your little girl’s here, we’ll find her. This is a big place. Chances are she’s just playing hide-and-seek, like kids do. Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.”

  His words were meant to be reassuring, but they only made me more anxious. Maddie wasn’t the type of girl to play that kind of joke. She didn’t enjoy tricking adults like some kids did. It just wasn’t in her nature.

  But still, I hoped. Hoped this was the one time that she was that type of girl. Because if this wasn’t a joke, if she’s wasn’t just playing around, then that meant… No, I couldn’t even think about it. I shook my head of the thought.

  “We’ll find her. It’ll be okay,” I said to Clara, embracing her tightly.

  “I can’t believe it. We were only separated for a few minutes,” she whispered, as if cursing herself.

  “You stay here in the lobby just in case she finds her way here.” I pulled away, wiping her tears. “I’ll go help the guards look.”

  Clara just nodded as she pulled a tissue from her purse. I left her there, found the nearest elevator, and took it up to the third floor.

  My appearance must’ve mirrored my frame of mind, because I got several strange looks from customers as the doors dinged open and I rushed past them. The bookstore was nearby. I made a straight line for it.

  There was a trio of security guards standing near a stairway leading up, chatting in a half-circle. I swallowed down my irritation and ignored them.

  Frantically, calling Maddie’s name all the way, I searched the entire bookstore. So much so that the clerk behind the counter kept trying to get me to leave.

  “Oh jeez, not again! Wherever she is, she’s not here,” the older woman had said while waving me off dismissively.

  I stayed until I had covered the whole place. Sure enough, there was no sign of Maddie. I paced the concourse, eyes sweeping left and right, searching for any hint of a clue. In the end, I came up with nothing. After going through the neighboring departments, I drew too much attention, and two of the guards led me back down to the lobby. My heart sank when I saw Clara still standing there, alone.

  The official search of the building ended a half hour later. By then, I had already searched the nearby connective tunnel, bathysphere port, and train station. Not only was there no sign of Maddie, no one I asked even remembered seeing her come through.

  Clara and I were sent on our way shortly after. As she collected herself, I asked the woman at the front desk to put in a call through to the cops.

  The woman just stared at me and asked, “Which one?”

  ***

  We ended up at the nearest police station: Poppadopolis Police Department. One of almost a dozen different outfits in Rapture, I soon learned. Down here, there was no ubiquitous 911 to call. Even emergency services and criminal cases were handled by private entities.

  “Look, Mr. Winters, she’s only been gone for a few hours,” the officer sitting a desk apart from me said, pen twirling between his fingers. “Our rules down here are much the same as back on the surface. Missing isn’t missing until twenty-four hours have passed.”

  “Twenty-four hours?” I almost shouted. “She’s seven! She can’t be away from home that long.”

  He just shrugged. His expression remained the same: blank. “You know, despite all the hoopla, Rapture isn’t that big of a place. She can’t have gone far. I’m sure she’ll be home tomorrow -- ”

  “Not if no one’s looking for her!”

  “ -- by her own volition, I was going to say,” he ground out, looking irritated at my interruption. “If she’s lost, I’m sure she knows to ask for help, right?”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What do you mean if she’s lost? Of course she’s lost. Either that, or…” The words just wouldn’t form. “Wherever she is right now, she’s in danger.”

  Another twenty minutes in that synthetic tobacco-filled office with Detective Ambrose didn’t get me anywhere. He obviously didn’t care. Wouldn’t care until twenty-four hours had passed. I broke the news to Clara, who was waiting in the lobby.

  “Then let’s just try a different station,” she said. “I heard the McMurray Police Station is almost as highly praised as Poppadopolis.”

  I shook my head. I’d asked Ambrose about that. He’d said the twenty-four hour rule was the industry-wide standard in Rapture.

  “Why don’t you go on home?” I said tiredly, happening to glance at the time on my wristwatch. It was already almost midnight. “Who knows? Maybe Maddie will be there, waiting. Maybe she somehow got lost and just headed home.”

  From the look on her face, I could tell Clara didn’t want to, but instead of saying anything, she just broke down again.

  “I’ll keep looking. I’ll call if I find anything new.”

  ***

  I spent literally the whole night looking. And I came up with nothing. No stray shoe, no familiar hair ribbon, and no witnesses who said they’d seen Maddie at all yesterday. By the time I trudged home, the morning lights were on, and my shop was the one desolate dark spot on the High Street boardwalk. I couldn’t even bear to think of opening it now. I’d have to call my employees when I got home and tell them not to bother coming in.

  Clara and I couldn’t stand to wait the full twenty-four hours, so just before noon, we found ourselves again seated in the lobby of Poppadopolis Police Department.

  Detective Ambrose didn’t look any happier to see us today, but he waved us into his office without comment as he puffed away on his cigarette.

  “I was sure she’d have shown up by now. They usually do,” he said by way of greeting as he gestured for us to take the chairs before his desk. He sat down in his own chair and began rummaging through a drawer. “So, I suppose we should get the fee figured out first...�
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  Clara sniffed into her tear-soaked tissue as she peered up at him with tired eyes. “Fee?”

  Ambrose simply nodded as he shuffled through the papers he’d pulled from his desk. “We have several different packages for these types of cases. Take a look through these, and -- ”

  “Packages?” I sat straighter in my chair. “What the hell are you talking about? Why can’t you just send out officers to start looking?”

  He blinked at me, as if I’d just said something ridiculous. “Well, yes, Mr. Winters, that is what we’ll be doing, but only once you’ve chosen your service package. You’ll see here that with our platinum package, we can have up to five officers out within twenty-four hours. However, as we’re bogged down with other cases at the moment, the price is a little steeper than usual.” He indicated a paper he slid before Clara and me as he talked. “And here we have the gold package, which is probably more your style. With it, we can have up to three officers out by the end of the week. I think you’ll find the price manageable.”

  “You’re kidding…” Those were the only words that left my mouth as I scanned over the documents. Packages. Like he was selling insurance. Theft, robbery, kidnapping, rape, murder. All covered in these various packages, with the promise of dedicated man-hours to resolve them for a certain amount of money.

  “You’re welcome to shop around, but I think you’ll find our prices more than competitive,” he added with a smile, proud.

  “Wait. What does this mean?” Clara asked, giving me a wary look.

  “It means we have to pay them if we want them to find Maddie,” I said, the words weighing heavy on my tongue.

  Ambrose cleared his throat. “To look for her, that is. We make no guarantees we can find any missing persons.”

  “How much?” I asked.

  “For which package?”

  “The best you’ve got. Platinum, or whatever.”

  “Platinum runs at a flat fee of $10,000,” he replied, taking a puff on his cigarette. “As I said, at least five officers out within twenty-four hours, and we promise a minimum of one thousand hours’ investigation time.”