Chapter 13 of Princessa

A View From the Top

They go down to the basement to change clothes. The clothes all fresh and warm from the dryer, smelling clean, nice. The three of them relieved to be in the dark little laundry room, away from the talk, away from all of it. Happy to be going out to go do something that has nothing to do with all the other stuff.

Jori pulls on his pants over one leg, then fumbles with the other leg, hopping on one foot. Then just stops and watches the girl pull up her tight jeans. Andy is bent over, frozen in motion, putting his foot into the leg of his trousers, staring at her. She sees them there, like statues, like audience watching the play.

“What...you guys lookin at somethin?” “You’re so skinny” says Andy. “You’re so beautiful” says Jori. “Get dressed” she tells them “or I’ll leave without you.”

They finish dressing and go out to the car. The warmth of the clothes against the chilly air. Smet watches them from the window. Maria blows him a kiss and he smiles and waves. Silly old man, he thinks to himself, so easily pushed around by such a pretty young girl. And what the hell’s she doing here anyway. Should be hidden away in the London embassy, or a remote Greek island. Somewhere, anywhere, safe, away from all the danger; not right in the middle of it. But that’s her, always at the center of everything. And what can you do but try to stay on your toes and hope for the best.

Andy’s driving the car, backing out the driveway, turning up the street. “You sure you know how to get there?” asks the girl. “You kidding?” says Jori. “That’s Andre, super spy, memorizes all facets of the terrain even while he’s laughing and telling you jokes.”  Yeah, thinks Andy, all part of the training; like bouncing a ball with one hand and juggling with the other. Supposed to translate into being able to fire a pistol while picking a lock. Well, it’s supposed to, anyway.

“So what’re we gonna do for money” she asks. “Oh, I palmed Smet’s billfold” says Andy “buncha cash, phony credit cards. We should be okay. Even left some for him.” They head down the little streets and then out onto the crowded freeway and back through the tunnel. “What’s a toll” asks the girl. “I think it’s like a troll” says Jori “you got to pay him to cross his bridge.” “You have to pay to get into New York?” she asks. “Man, I hope Smet gots lots a money.”

Andy drives up Broadway and parks in a parking ramp by the diner where they had breakfast. “Let’s do lunch” he says to them. “I want hamburger” says Jori “and french fry.” “Me too” says Maria. The fog and haze has lifted now and it’s cold and brilliantly sunny in the busy intersection. “Look” says Jori “the neon coca-cola.” “Yeah” says the girl “this is gonna be fun.”

“And look” he says “the Marriot, we should stay there Andy.” “Yeah, and Malvia should have a budget like New York City does.” They go into the crowded little diner and again the cooking smell of frying foods in sizzling oil is overpowering. The big fat burgers and crispy fries and cold coke are heavenly after all that cognac.

“Where you wanna go shopping” he asks the girl, thinking again of the Malvian budget, particularly for secret service agents. He’s expecting Gucci or Armani or something the like where a princess might go. “Let’s find a flea market” she says “or some second hand shops. Is something so…tingly, about wearing other people’s clothes.” “Is cheap” says Jori, who’s never known anything but that his whole life. “Is bugs biting you what gives you that tingly feeling.”

She laughs at him. But with no other ideas, they ask the man at the diner where they should go. He suggests Greenwich Village, and tells them they’ll need to take a cab or the bus to get there. After stuffing themselves with lunch, they walk out onto the cold streets of New York. “It’s grand, it’s glorious” says Jori, his arms outstretched and turning in a circle in the sunshine on the pointed corner of Broadway and 42nd. “I love New York.”

“Let’s go to the Empire State Building first” says the girl. “How do we get there, Andy?” “I dunno” he says. She goes over to a businessman walking down the sidewalk; and like any tourist would, asks him for directions. “How to…Empire Beelding.” The man points up to the upper levels of the building, towering over the city. “See that... walk toward it.”

They do, but it takes a lot longer than you think. You always see the tower there in front of you, way up in the clouds, but it never seems to get much closer no matter how far you walk. It’s cold in the shady sidewalks beneath the tall sky scrapers and finally Andy suggests they take the subway. Skip the Empire State Building for now, and just go down to the Village, find some clothes to wear. After getting directions and submerging into the underground world below the city, they end up at the corner of Bleeker and 6th.

It’s feels good when they come up, climbing the cement steps and looking around. The old part of New York is like home, familiar little shops, quaint old buildings; quieter and more peaceful than the hustle of Times Square. There’s no flea market, but there’re some interesting second hand shops, though the prices aren’t much of a bargain.

“How do you know... what kind of clothes people wear” asks Jori. The girl smiles at him “that’s easy... if I’m wearing it, pretty soon everybody will.” They go from shop to shop, looking mostly, not buying much, just your basic jeans, tee shirts, sweatshirts, sneakers, jackets, stuff like that. Andy reminds them that they want to blend in, be inconspicuous, go unnoticed. “Easy enough for me” says Maria, in red jeans and white tee shirt “but what about you guys?”

With shopping bags in hand, Maria and Zoltep wanna go see the Statue of Liberty now, but Andy insists they head back to the car and leave the stuff there. That way they’ll be ‘hands-free’ unencumbered, just in case. The others object but reluctantly follow him back to the subway, bitching and moaning about wasting all their fun time. The two kids are lost in the merriment and holiday of being in New York. But Andy feels edgy. Not so much as to really notice it, but just not real comfortable or relaxed. Too many things can go wrong in an unfamiliar setting.

Maybe he shouldn’t have taken the girl with him; or should’ve dropped her off at a safe location. But then... you’d be worrying all the time, wondering if she’s okay. At least, having her here, you know she’s alright. Even if it is a hassle to deal with.

A fat old Japanese man stops on the sidewalk to snap a photo of Maria and she smiles and poses for him. But Andy’s all ready to run over and grab the camera, has to actually stop himself from doing that. It’s the safe thing to do, maybe the right thing. But this guy’s no photographer, no terrorist. Just some innocent tourist, all smiley and happy about snappin up a photo of this gorgeous young girl, something to show the folks back home. Tell ‘em this is ‘his girlfriend in America’ and they’ll all laugh, or be a little jealous maybe, and his wife will be all mad at him for being so silly.

Or was that just a guise; just what they’d want you to think so you wouldn’t suspect them? Nah, that’s just bein paranoid, what the hell’s goin on anyway? It’s like…being responsible. Yeah, being responsible for this girl. The king said keep her safe. Damn, that’s a handful; like being married or something. And the other kid too, Jori. All of a sudden it’s like he’s not expendable either. Maria Salin gets pretty upset when her soldier boys get all dead and stuff, even more so when she knows the guy. So now y’gotta worry about him too.

What a burden, and worse yet, worst of all, probably gotta be watchin out for yourself too, on top of all the other stuff. Can’t be just all loose and hangin from your fingertips up on the Empire State Building just to show off.  ‘Cause y’aint no good as a bodyguard if you slip up.

“What’ s wrong” asks the girl. “Nothing” he says, with no expression in his voice. “Then quit being such a bitch” she tells him. “You’re spoiling everything.” “Easy for you” he says “you aren’t… responsible for anything. Just… run around, do whatever your little ass wants to.” She looks up at him and bites at her lip. “I’m… the queen-designate of our little country, you know. Everyday… everyday I’m that; whether I want to be, or not. And you know… you have to tell yourself, that you’re no better than anyone else, right? Just one of the folks. And then you have to, also tell yourself that you’re no worse than anybody else either. That you… got a right to live too, just like anyone else would. No matter, all… the fucking responsibility you got.”

“Yeah” he says “I’m sorry, okay. I should… I’m just nervous... is all. Wanna, keep you safe, from everything.” She takes the shopping bags from his hands and drops them on the sidewalk. Then reaches up to put her arms around his neck and gives his a long kiss on the lips. Instinctively he grabs the back of her jeans and lifts her up tight against him. Holds her there feeling her soft little body pressed up against his. Then he gently lets her back down to the sidewalk.

“That better?” she asks. “That’s better” he says feeling all warm and glowing. “Then let’s go have some fun.” “What about me” asks Jori. She runs over and hugs him and kisses him on the cheek. “Well, that’s something, I guess” he says. Andy decides the hell with it, jeez… just, who cares anyway. Maybe take the day off or something, enjoy it while y’can, before the action starts. “Here” he says to the others “let me carry the bags, and… then we’ll go see New York.”

They hand him all the shopping bags full of clothes and shoes and things, and go with him, taking the subway back to the parking ramp. They throw all the stuff into the backseat of the car. Then, thinking about the places they wanna go see and security screening and all, decide they better leave things like guns and knives and stuff, in the trunk. Can’t be carrying that stuff around with you, what with metal detectors and all, even if it makes you feel kinda naked without it. But hey, it’s a vacation day, and you don’t know how many more of those you’re gonna have, or even how many more days y’gonna have period.

Back down on the street Andy hails a cab to 33rd. They take the elevator up to the top of the Empire State Building and look out at all the buildings across the big city. “Maria, look at the toy cars” says Jori, all happy and giddy from the height, pointing down at the miniature-looking taxi’s and cars on the streets below. “They’re so tiny” she says “it’s funny, how little they look; like they’re not even real or anything.”

You can see them as they stop, people get in, drive off toward their destination, and other vehicles coming from different directions gonna all meet at this intersection here, and then the lights gonna turn, and all that happening at once like you’re looking down from heaven; almost like seeing the future. The building sways slightly in the wind, and Jori catches the girl as she stumbles backward laughing. “Careful” he says “you don’t want to fall off.”

It’s chilly out on the observation deck, windy, and not so many people around, but the afternoon sunshine gives them a spectacular view of the city and beyond, like seeing all of America from the 86th floor. But oddly enough, it’s like you’d expect something more from a place you’ve heard about all your life. Like going to heaven and finding out it doesn’t meet your expectations. The Empire State Building is a really neat place, different special unique, like no place else on earth. But all in all, just a view from a really tall building; and there’re other things they wanna see and do.

The elevator down is like the ground falling out from under you. They look at each other and laugh at the really frightening speed of the rapid descent, grabbing the handrails, holding on tight. Feels like you’re freefalling and gonna just crash right through the bottom floor when you get there. But the elevator brakes sharply a few floors from the bottom and sets you down gently as eggs in a nest.

They don’t have their legs under them as they step off and Jori has to catch the girl as she stumbles backwards again. “Hey, watch your hands” she says, laughing at him and pulling free. The boy doesn’t know what to say, wishing he had a clever comeback. The girl’s body is so soft to the touch, yet so hard, like his own flesh, but amazingly different and way more enchanting than any grand building could ever be. He just follows her out the revolving doors, watching her move like a gazelle or a ballerina dancing, just in the way she walks.

They take a cab to Battery Park and get the ferry boat to Liberty Island. Maria and Jori are up front watching the seagulls float on the currents of air. The two young people aren’t even bothered by the cold wind and spray coming off the rough grey water, but Andy gets tired of the wind and the sun in his eyes and goes back under the glass enclosure to light a cigarette.

There’s a tall black man standing there, in a blue uniform and hat, with broad red stripes along the shoulders of his coat and outside leg of his pants. “Hey, you can’t smoke here” he says to him “no smoking on the boat.” “I don’t speak English” he says to the man (in English). The guy looks at him and decides to let it go. Did his part just by telling him the rules, no need to get all into enforcing them too.

On the island, it’s sunny and cold too, but kinda like you’re free and let loose from everything because you’re not in the city anymore. You can get an ice cream cone, run around the grass and climb on the rocks, do whatever you want to. No crowds or traffic to worry about, not gonna get hit by a car out here.

They go up into the statue and out onto the observation deck since there’re not many people and no waiting like there would be in summertime. An old Jewish grandfather comes up to Maria and taps her on the shoulder “what language are you speaking.” “Russian” says the girl. “I speak Russian” says the old man, but that’s not Russian.” “Well… uh, what should we see here in New York” she asks him, speaking Russian now. “Well” says the old man, smiling at her “it’s going to be dark soon, not much to see tonight, but maybe after you eat dinner, you might want to go to ‘Woman in Black.’ It’s a play on Broadway, a good show, I think. Then tomorrow, go early to the Metropolitan Museum. It’s very good, and the Guggenheim also, but that’s more modern, and I prefer the Metropolitan.” Then he adds “come and see me at my jewelry store too, Kleinman’s; I’m Kleinman” he says shaking the girls hand.

The old man leaves and the girl watches him walk away back to his folks and little grandkids here visiting the little old man in the city. What a nice people here, she thinks, like everywhere she’s been in this world, nice friendly people who are kind and sweet and considerate. Just wanna be your friend, just like anywhere else. And why couldn’t it be like that.

She looks out over the water and watches the seagulls floating on the wind, suspended and then diving down to the waves and popping back up again. It hurts to see them so free and at peace with their world, oblivious to all the other stuff, just doing what seagulls do. Unlike all the worries and torments in her head and stomach that churn over and over and grind at you like worn out gears. And you try so hard to work that out and even try to ignore it and put it aside if nothing else works, but it’s always there anyway.