The Girl & The Rubik's Cube

Part 3: Bring It Home

The Astor Place Cube, officially named “The Alamo”, is a large, black metal cube located in the East Village of Manhattan that’s mounted on its axis, standing 8 feet tall. I’ve never personally been to the location, but I’ve seen pictures of the cube online, and there was even a documentary on a man that lived inside the cube. The documentary turned out to be fake, but still interesting to watch.

I first learned of the cube when a few pranksters placed panels along the sides to give the statue an appearance of a Rubik’s Cube.

A standard Rubik’s Cube is 3 pieces by 3 pieces (3x3). The Astor Place Cube had unsymmetrical protrusions and indents on each side that made it look as though it were 2x2, although it has not officially been labeled as such. Regardless, clearly this was the cube Morgan was referring to in her note. The large statue spun. It took great effort for one person, but with two people the cube would spin quite effortlessly.

I started making my way to the East Village. I had to take a crosstown bus to get there, one of the most annoying things about New York. Sure, you can go north to south easily by taking the subway, but moving from east to west was a challenge. There really aren’t many ways of crossing the island unless you take the bus or a cab. Being cheap, I took the bus. I hate the bus.

Once I was on the east side, I hopped on the 6 train headed downtown from the 125th Street stop. It’s a bit of a ride downtown where Alamo was located. I had a bit of a ride ahead of me. I took the time to think about the days events thus far. I was on the hunt for...something. What was it, exactly? Morgan had gone out of her way to do something unique and special for me, but a scavenger hunt that’s taking me all over New York City? It seems a bit extravagant, but clearly she wanted to send me a message. Aside from the questions I had, one thing was certain, I was flattered and thoroughly enjoying myself. The alternative to searching the city for naked pictures a pretty girl had left me to find was sitting at home all day, eating cold pizza in my underwear. I wish I had friends I could share this with. *”Dude, this hot 22 year old chic is leaving naked pictures of herself all across the city for me to find!”* I’d be the envy of all the men, they’d buy me a beer and pat me on the back like I had accomplished some sort of tremendous feat, then we’d spend the night getting drunk, laughing, telling stories of all the girls we’ve scored with. I’d be the alpha male, the one calling the shots, the dominant, fearless leader.

Wouldn’t that be something? If only…

BRING IT HOME. Her blood. Her beautiful blood. I had tasted it many times after that first night. It acted like an aphrodisiac to me. Home? Was this the last piece of the puzzle for me to solve?

The subway reached my stop: Astor Place and E 8th Street. The station was crowded and I struggled to find a path through everyone. I wasn’t in any rush, time was not of the essence, I was just excited, anxious. The people walking slow were prolonging the next clue.

Seriously? It’s New York people. We walk fast, talk fast, and have short attention spans. Get out of the way.

I reached the exit and began ascending the stairs. I could see the bright glow of the sun shining through the opening of the subway entrance. A brisk, cold breeze swept through the station causing my pea coat could to flap behind me. I could taste the air of the city as I continued ascending. Once I reached street level, my mouth dropped in complete shock.

The cube was gone.

I recognized the area from the pictures I had seen online, I was definitely in the right place. Where the hell does an 8 foot, steel cube that weighed thousands of pounds could have gone?

In the cube’s usual resting place was a busy construction zone. Red cones surround the street, men in hard hats walking around, an oversized crane on the sidewalk. But no cube. I circled the area, wondering if perhaps the construction zone was blocking my view. But there was nothing.