Archipelago N.Y.: Flynn

by Todorov, Vladimir

  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.

  “Mr. Kowalski, wait!” Flynn rummaged through his sack and produced a dark green bottle. “Here’s something to go with your dinner, then.”

  “Aha!” Mr. Kowalski's face lit up, taking the bottle. “It's been a long time since I’ve had one of those! Looks like wine to me...” He was examining the bottle, turning it in his hands.

  “Flynn!” Alan Perry cried, his face turning red again. “Have you been scavenging in the restricted zones again?”

  But before Flynn could say anything, they all heard a bell ring outside and the rush of footsteps along the walkway.

  Mr. Kowalski slipped the bottle quickly in his satchel. “The water’s here! I’d better hurry!”

  “No worries, Mr. Kowalski,” said Flynn, grabbing the four empty plastic jugs under the table. “I'll get your rations for you tonight.”

  “Don’t forget to let the ladies and kids go first, Flynn,” Alan Perry said.

  “I won’t!” cried Flynn. And with those words, he ran quickly out the door, glad at the opportunity to escape from his father’s reproachful stare.

  FIVE

  The Water Rations had arrived! This was fresh, drinking water, delivered down through the pipeline from the Upper Side reservoirs, tapped and distributed around by the Government rafts and barges. The Government owned the water… Or to be more precise, a company called Van Zandt Water Solutions owned the water and, therefore, owned the people. It was that simple. Everyone was held hostage by a small group of men who had the good fortune to be in possession of the desalination formula… It was the group that had made it possible to sustain life on the Archipelago after the Flood… and to rule over the whole place. The Government could not control rain water, of course, but that hardly mattered… Rain was such a rare thing... and it never snowed…

  Flynn stood in the long line of people, moving slowly down the walkway, everyone waiting patiently for their turn to come. It was a well-practiced routine, repeated at the same time each evening. At exactly 8:00 pm, the valves at the Upper Side end of the pipeline were opened. Heavily guarded rafts waited at the Lower Side station to fill up their barrels. All other traffic was shut down. From that point on, the street canals and all waterways were to be used only by the rafts ferrying the Water Rations. Those who had not made it home on time didn’t get any water, until the next day. It worked perfectly for the Government, imposing a kind of voluntary curfew over the Lower Side.

  Flynn stepped toward the elevator. It was the same one he had used earlier, except now its platform was lined with large plastic barrels full of water. Thanks to Dino’s man-power, the platform would make its way up, stop at each floor and wait for the residents to fill up their containers. Each person was allowed a daily ration of two gallons and not a drop more.

  After having let several women and their children go ahead of him, it was Flynn’s turn now. He glanced quickly at the Water Warden standing at the corner of their floor’s walkway, watching everybody with great intensity. The man was one of their neighbors, a volunteer in the self-policing practices which the Government encouraged… Water Wardens would report those who dared to be careless with the water supply. Anyone who spilled or stole
extra rations was punished on the spot. Wasteful usage was a crime!

  “For the Greater Good!” Flynn mumbled as he filed past the Warden. Flynn hated the man, but he knew it was wise to hide his feelings… When the Trials were over, Flynn thought, he would never have to worry about these Wardens again… He would be living on the Upper Side, where nobody had to ration water…

  One by one, Flynn dipped his jugs in the nearest barrel, careful not to spill a single drop.

  Alan Perry was waiting for Flynn. Lying on the table was an open plastic bag with two fat, juicy fish fillets in it. “Sit down Flynn,” his father said, then pointed at the fish. “Where did you get these?”

  “I traded for them,” Flynn shrugged and poured himself a cup of water.

  “Was it a legal trade, then?”

  “No.”

  “Well…. at least you're honest.” The harshness in Alan Perry's voice was still there, but his eyes had taken on a gentler look as he spoke. “I'm worried, Flynn! All this illegal stuff you keep bringing home ... all this diving, scavving…”

  “C'mon, Dad! It's not the first time I've done that!”

  “I know it's not! I pretend I don't see… I don't ask. But… every time you bring something like this home... my heart skips a beat! My son got lucky again, is what I think!”

  “You sound just like Tony.”

  “Well, he’s got more common sense than you do! You think this is some kind of a game you’re playing?”

  “Dad! I know what I’m doing!” Flynn cried.

  “Really?”

  Their eyes met and stayed locked for a long, awkward moment. There was a lot of sadness and reproach in Alan Perry’s eyes. Flynn knew that look very well. His father didn’t approve of the scavenging and the kind of future Flynn had in mind for himself. He had seen that look many times in the last year… It was the look of disappointment, because Flynn was going against tradition. He had refused to do what was expected of him, and what every good kid in town did when they came of age… They chose to take on their fathers’ jobs, no matter what… and Flynn had no such plans. He wasn’t going to be a Watchman, even though he had grown up in his father’s Watch Tower and knew everything there was to know about the job.

  Flynn’s mother had died shortly after he was born, so with no one else to take care of the baby, Alan Perry had strapped his infant son to his back and returned to his job … And the little boy had loved the Watch Tower in the beginning… Perched high above all the other buildings, Flynn felt like he was on top of the world. Back then, it seemed like there was no job more important than that of a Watchman… His father was his hero, always on the lookout for danger, ready to raise the alarm and keep the Archipelago safe…

  Until one day, Flynn had spotted the Scavenger Crews and watched the divers go to work! Going down to the ocean bed and coming back with their amazing finds… He also noticed the respect they had among the people of the Archipelago, especially those who held the title of Free Scavengers. The golden badges they all wore were the mark of great success… Those badges were known as Duncan’s Gold, named after Duncan Roth, the man who was in charge of all official scavenging operations. And then, Flynn had learnt of the privileges that came with their job and couldn’t believe his ears… These guys had things that the Lower Siders could only dream of… housing on the Upper Side, good food, running water, no Wardens spying on them… The list of perks was long.

  By then, Flynn had been old enough to figure out who the real heroes were… His visits to the Watch Tower became less and less frequent, until he completely stopped going up there… He had met Tony Romero hanging round the Scavenger Crews, and they had built their first raft. They had also made a vow… They were going to become Free Scavengers, earn their Duncan Gold, even if it killed them… And so, for the past six years, the boys had spent their days diving and getting ready for the Trials. They were going to win and change their lives forever. Flynn had made up his mind about what he wanted…Even if it meant breaking his father’s heart. Looking at Alan Perry’s sad eyes now, Flynn felt a prick of guilt… But there was no going back, and he didn’t care what his father was going to say to him.

  After having studied his son’s face for a very long time, Alan Perry lowered his gaze.

  “Flynn, I’m not going to talk about what you do…or what you plan to do…” The man was struggling to find the words with which to continue. “… I tried to raise you as best as I could… to prepare you for the harsh reality of life here ... to keep you safe and out of trouble…”

  “Yeah, I know that,” said Flynn, looking down at his feet.

  “You're a big boy now… and soon I'll be gone.”

  “Hey! Don't say that!” Flynn’s eyes were now on his father.

  “Let's not pretend, son! You know I'm not going to be around for much longer. I'll be on the Departure List sooner rather than later… My time’s running out!”

  “But ...” Flynn's eyes were getting wider with every word, “they'll keep you, right? Like Mr. Kowalski…You're one of their best Watchmen… they won't let you go. They’ll make you an ancient...”

  “Flynn!” Alan Perry leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. “I can't see that well anymore!”

  “But you saw me today, didn't you?” There was a note of hope in Flynn's voice. “I was on the East border… I waved at you… and then you gave me the signal from the Tower...”

  “No, son,” Alan Perry said, shaking his head now. “I'm sorry, I didn’t! Uncle Dale saw you. He set the signal off… He’s been covering for me quite a bit of late… but it won’t go unnoticed.”

  Flynn jumped up and turned away from the table. He had expected an argument with his father over the scavenged wine bottle, the fish he had traded, the Trials… anything but this… Officer Foley’s words were echoing in his ears now… and Dino’s… both had said something about his father being on the Departure List this year…Flynn knew how things were going to play out if his father wasn’t able to do his job as a Watchman any more… Alan Perry had been preparing him for that moment ever since he was old enough to understand… And in a way, Flynn, like all the kids on the Lower Side, understood it all… It seemed perfectly normal to them…It was what happened to people when they got to a certain age… No longer able to work and contribute to the community, these people became a burden that the rest couldn’t carry around. They were dead weigh, and they had to make room for the young blood, the new working force. The old and infirm simply had to go!

  The Government had not announced the date for the Departure Ceremony, but Flynn knew it could be any day now. They would let people get complacent, hopeful that they might get lucky, borrow some more time…And then, the Departure List would come out with the names of the people who were going to be retired. The Government would throw a big farewell party, known as the Departure Ceremony, thanking those on the List for all their hard work and contribution to the community… They would then put the chosen ones on a raft and escort them away from the city. The raft would be supplied with a small quantity of food and water and set adrift… And that was that! What became of the people on the raft was anybody’s guess… they either died from thirst and starvation, or from the Flood Virus, if they reached the contaminated mountain ridges west of the Archipelago. .. Nobody ever came back.

  Yes, Flynn had always known this day would come… that his father would end up on the List and go to the Ceremony… Then Flynn's turn would come, if he ever lived to be that age… He would have to leave, just like all those before him. This was how things worked, thought Flynn… His mind had been so focused on the Trials and getting ready for the big day that he had stopped paying attention, forgotten about the Archipelago’s tradition and ignored his own father. Flynn had always thought he would be ready for this moment when it arrived… that he would be able to handle it well… accept it and get on with life… But now, he wasn't so sure.

  “If you’re on the List,” said Flynn, “then we’ll think of something
…”

  “There’s nothing we can do, son.” Alan Perry shook his head.

  “There must be!” Flynn began to pace up and down the little room, thinking furiously on his feet. “I’ll hide you, Dad!” he cried. “I know of places… underwater… air pockets… You'll be OK… I’ll bring you plenty of food and...”

  “Flynn, stop!” Allan Perry whispered. “Don’t even think of doing such a foolish and dangerous thing. If I’m on the List, then so be it… Don’t fight it.”

  Flynn opened his mouth to say something then closed it. He saw the resignation in his father's eyes… Alan Perry had always been a stickler to the rules…He had obeyed the Greater Good protocols and never broken a single law in his life…Suddenly, Flynn felt angry at his father. How could the man be such a coward?

  “So, you’ll just let them take you away?” Flynn asked. “You won’t let me try to help you?”

  “No, I won’t let you.”

  “You’d rather die, then?”

  “Who knows? Maybe it won’t be the end of me… Maybe I'll reach Dry Land and live...”

  Startled, Flynn looked up. “You know there's nothing but ocean out there! Everybody knows that!”

  “Mr. Kowalski would disagree,” Alan Perry said and laughed suddenly. He got up, walked over to Flynn and threw his arm around his shoulders. “Forget everything I’ve told you… Right now we've got us some fresh fish to cook. What do you say, son?”

  Flynn swallowed hard then looked at his father. He knew the man was done talking, and Flynn had to respect that. “Sure,” he mumbled and managed a weak smile. “Let's do that.”

  But Flynn was no longer hungry. The last thing he wanted to think about was food...