Into the Light

Chapter 20

Chapter: 20

"From a little spark may burst a flame."

Dante Alighieri

Penn Station smells of exhaust and human odors trapped by the tunnels and unrelenting underground heat. Blake inspects the platform of commuters for masked ones as he totes his two suitcases and travel bag along with his laptop. The Amtrack train opens its doors on time. A small trickle of passengers drips in.

At his seat, Blake puts on his headphones and displays his ticket in his hand, easier to be given to the conductor. The slow roll begins. Speed is gradually gained, and not perceived by the passengers. The train passes the neatly placed rows of trees and gray stations in the suburbs that are dense with camel coats clad commuters.

After less than an hour, he gets off at a diversion station to lay misdirection if he is being followed. He chooses not to leave an electronic path of bread crumbs, so he searches and comes across a gum and graffiti covered pay phone outside of the station that was once converted from a farm house where field of onions once ruled the land. He dials Stiggy. The wind blows from the west and the sun's stroll along the stellar avenue begins to fully heat the faces of the East Coast. There is no answer.

Stiggy left his phone in his jacket and is focused on stacking a new shipment of icons from Russia so when Archie comes in he won't have any heavy lifting. Blake waits for a train to arrive that will take him home.

The evening comes like a slow-moving fog. In at the chain motel with a green roof, Blake, under an assumed name, checks in. He realizes it is the same motel where kids from his high school had parties a decade earlier. The room is a disco ball of mirrors splayed flat.

He tosses his luggage on the floor and enters the bathroom that smells of chlorine. The urge to wash his face cannot be denied. The debris of the day goes down the drain. With the white towel on his head, he shuffles to the single bed, all edges no curves, and grabs the remote from the nightstand. It's tacky with day old honey. He clicks on the TV sitting on a particle board dresser.

A news report comes through the regularly scheduled programming. "Another wild fire from the Santa-Anas in Malibu. And one time Academy award winner's home is burnt to the ground as she was in Australia doing a film for 20 million. Later the workers strike in Argentina, but for now here are your celebrity birthdays." Blake becomes sickened and throws the towel onto the screen. He leans over to the nightstand and picks up the phone.

"Hello."

"Michael, it's Blake."

"Man where are you? I tried calling but nothing."

"Man, I left the city. I'm not coming back."

"Where are you? What the Hell happened?"

"Hell is exactly it. I slew a masked one."

There is a silence and the air molecules vibrate a high pitched ring in the earpiece.

"Was he ...?"

"Yes, the first one."

"So it has begun. Where are you?"

"I'm on the move, but if you wish to join me, please do. I could your help. I'll be in Pittsburgh in two days. PPG building courtyard where they keep the Christmas tree and ice rink, at noon. If things work out maybe we can hit a Steelers game."

"I need to get some addresses and my money but I'll be there. I have a month of vacation days saved up. How did you know I was a Steelers fan?"

"You told me where you're from and that's Steeler country like my hometown. I'll see you then," Blake says.