The big city (Solo)

The smell of diesel fumes tickled Lucas’ nose as the bus doors swished closed behind him. The noise of Time Square crawled up to the second floor of the Port Authority and hinted at the bustling Metropolis that would soon greet him. He trudged along in line with the other passengers as they collected their baggage and made their way into the main terminal building through a rusted emergency door at the side of the parked vehicle.

Was this a mistake? The young man wondered to himself. Nagging doubts that had haunted him throughout the long ride North flooded back to torment him. The idea of abandoning the comforts of the familiar for a dream of something better in New York seemed insane now that he had arrived. Lucas new nothing about the Big Apple except for what he had gathered from watching movies and television. Did this really equip him to start his life over here and now? He had less than six dollars to his name, nowhere to sleep, hadn’t eaten in over a day and didn’t know a soul in town.

A small child whimpered behind him and saved Lucas from his worries for the moment. He turned to see a slender Asian woman in line directly behind him, struggling to keep up. She was trying to carry her two year old daughter in one arm while the small girl cuddled as tightly as she could for comfort. In the woman’s other hand, was the handle for a large suitcase that was nearly the same size as her. The mother seemed haggard and exhausted but she laboured on to keep up with the line of commuters entering the building.

Lucas smiled at the woman and reached for the handle of her suitcase. ”Can I help?” he offered as he smiled to try and reassure her.

The woman hesitated at the unexpected offer of assistance. She saw the tattoos lining Lucas’ extended arm and she eyed him suspiciously for a moment as she assessed the risk in this stranger. The woman seemed to decide that the reward was worth it and returned the smile. She gave a quick nod and said “Thank you” in a heavy accent. Her smile seemed to bring some life and energy back to her face. Lucas reached to the mother’s side and hoisted the heavy bag up, placing it atop his shoulder. He was surprised about the weight and was impressed with the woman’s efforts to drag it along without complaint so far. The woman didn’t seem to give the situation another thought and continued into the main terminal area. Once inside, luggage carts where waiting and Lucas helped the mother get settled. She thanked him again as she rolled away with her daughter.

Lucas extracted himself from the throng of commuters to slip into the men’s room. The halogen lights bathed the tiles in an unnatural glow which accentuated the brownish mold building up in the corners. A leaking hand soap pump had dribbled a puddle of thick pink fluid between two of the sinks and was the only splash of color in the room except for the garish cologne advertisements screwed into the wall above the urinals. Large black letters saying “Gene Jokes Suck” had been scribbled across the front of the chrome stall doors, overpowering all the other smaller graffiti with its bold size and statement.

Lucas dropped his duffle bag near the entrance and walked to the sink. He started the water running and splashed it on his face to try to wash off some of the fatigue from the 30 hour bus ride he had just completed. The cool water refreshed him and helped him feel a bit more awake.

If the woman had known he was a mutant, would she have accepted his aid as easily?, he pondered as he splashed another two handfuls of cold liquid on his face. In the end, he knew he was one of the lucky ones. He could blend in and hide his abilities from the world. He had the choice to pretend to be human. Not all other mutants were as fortunate as him, he thought.

He turned off the water and reached for the towel dispenser, pulling out a rectangle of coarse paper to dry himself. When done, he balled the towel up and pushed it through the metal flap of the overfilled trash bin and turned toward the exit and his duffle bag.

The exit was there, his bag was not. A cool tingle shot up his spine and shocked his body into paralysis for a brief second while his mind raced to interpret the information his eyes had just passed along. Someone had actually snuck into the bathroom and stolen his things in the brief moment while he washed his face.

Jumping into action, Lucas bolted back into the hall and skidded to a halt at the bathroom entrance. He scanned the area and looked for the culprit who had snatched his luggage only moments ago. His gaze fell upon hundreds of commuters walking back and forth, too busy to notice anything outside of their own lives.

Across the hall at the entrance of the Hudson News shop, a small boy of about 6 was in the process of devouring a giant pretzel while he watched the man’s hasty exit from the bathroom. Lucas met the boy’s gaze and the little urchin smiled a gapped toothed grin dotted with bits of half chewed bread. The young lad pointed towards the escalator with his left hand as he manoeuvred the pretzel for another bite with his right.

No time to waste, Lucas sped through the crowd in the indicated direction, trying not to knock anybody over in his haste. He reached the top of the escalator and looked down into the lobby. Amongst the people going about their lives, a teenage boy with a New York Knicks cap and a faded Led Zeppelin T-shirt was cutting a path toward the exit of West 40th street and 8th avenue. Lucas’ stolen duffle bag was strapped securely across his back.

”HEY!” Lucas shouted out to the teen. ”THAT’S MY BAG!”

Some people turned and looked about with amusement or curiosity. The young punk with the bag did not. He started to run instead. He crossed the marble floored lobby and was pushing through the revolving door before the large, black woman in the guard uniform could put her nail polish brush down on the security kiosk desk.

Not even five minutes in New York and everything I own has already been stolen. That has to be a new record, Lucas grumbled to himself as he tried to hurry down the crowded escalator.