his life. Andrew suddenly felt guilty about the past few weeks.
There’s something bright about him though, thought Andrew, though he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Well,” Andrew said, “let’s get you home, Nick. I bet Sunsetville’s right through this door.” He strode over to the oak door, reaching out for the handle.
“It’s locked though!” Nick called behind him. Andrew put his hand on the brass doorknob and a bolt of energy flew up his arm.
Andrew jumped, feeling his heart race in his chest. Suddenly, he was focused. Things that had bothered him all day, like the drought, his parents, and school ceased to matter in this moment. He felt a heightened attention on the present, and the gun in his left hand. It was a frightening perception of reality.
He turned the knob in his hand, and of course it turned. It opens to me, Andrew realized. He heard Nick’s breath draw slowly behind him in wonder. He heard the birds quit chirping in the canopy. In this moment of time, the world was standing still, and he could feel it. He opened the door and walked through.
“Wait up sir!” shouted Nickolas from close behind. Andrew heard him but didn’t turn. He stepped into the blinding light. Then he was floating. The world of New Jersey waned and faded behind him.
TWO
Affairs in Another World
chapter two
through the bowels
I
Andrew lurched forward and landed on his knees, reaching out his right hand to brace his fall. The world spun.
Nick landed beside him, and had less luck with his entrance, tumbling forward into darkness. Andrew had to cover his laugh with his hand, which he found still held the gun. That was good.
The smell hit him next. Andrew reeled in dizziness. From the darkness, Andrew heard Nick:
“Of all the places to end up, this shithole…”
They were in a sewer. Long stone corridors led in either direction, shrouded in darkness except where light streamed in through overhead grates. Andrew gazed at the grate above him, blinded by the golden sunlight. It’s sundown, he thought. Sundown in Sunsetville.
“Hope you’ll pardon my language sir—it’s just that—”
“Don’t call me that!” Andrew exclaimed and hurried over to help his friend. Fortunately Nick hadn’t gotten any of the excrement on him.
“Well no sir, I wasn’t callin’ you a shithole, you see—we’re in the sewer.”
Andrew laughed. “No, not that. Quit calling me sir.” He laid his hand on Nick’s shoulder, as Nick’s eyes widened to the size of dinner-plates. “I’m not a day older than you, Nick.”
Nick looked away. “But, sir, it’s just common respect. Beggin’ your pardon of course… if you want though, I can stop. Sir.”
Andrew lost interest in the boy’s dawdling. He walked forward and wrinkled his nose. “So this is Sunsetville, huh?”
Nick hurried over to him. “Yessir, I’d recognize that golden light anywhere. Even the smell of shit can’t ruin that crisp, golden, springtime air. Sorry about the language, of course.” He continued. “I know this sewer pretty well, yep. I work down ‘ere.”
“Do you?” Andrew asked. “But you’re just a kid!”
“Yes well, I’ve got to do somethin’ during the day. My aunt and uncle are usually workin’. They want me to keep out of trouble and all,” Nick looked around. “I knew this sewer pretty well, workin’ with the maintenance men. Too often I’m knee-deep in…” he looked at the puddles of waste and murky water around him. He couldn’t find a polite word for it. He continued.
“Of course, it’s been knee deep since I’ve got here, three moons ago. Especially since it hasn’t rained in over a year, that is.”
Andrew turned sharply. “There’s a drought in Sunsetville?”
Nick considered it for a moment. “If that’s what you call it, then yes. The whole world’s got a bad case of it.” His cautious answer brought a grin to Andrew’s face. “I never heard that word, though, but if druh-out” he sounded it in two syllables, “yeah, if this dry-out means the weather’s hot and sticky all the time without rain, then that’s what it is. Sir.”
Andrew didn’t say anything, thinking of his home. He’d thought he could escape the drought through a door to another world, but apparently that wasn’t the case.
“And truth be told, the rain’s stopped ever since he came,” said Nick, talking more to himself than Andrew, who explored ahead. Andrew asked who he was, and received a few seconds of silence from Nick. When Nick spoke, it wasn’t an answer to Andrew’s questions.
“Look here, sir—it’s a manhole. That’s what we use to get in and out of the sewer, you know.”
Andrew turned around, spotting the manhole on the ceiling. He flashed his friend a smile.
“Let’s get out of this shithole, bud,” he said, tucking the gun into the waistband of his shorts.
II
Andrew followed Nick, who leaped and grabbed the iron rungs of a ladder that dropped from the manhole. Before he had jumped Nick commented:
“I may not have a load of ‘smarts’ as my dad says, but I’ve got a compass in my head.” He tapped his finger on his temple. “Fills up the room where my brain is s’posed to be, my dad also says. I know my way around, and if I’m right we’re below the center of town. Well,” he paused, thinking. “we’re under it. Yeah, that’s better. Once we climb up, then we’ll be in the center of town.”
Now Nick popped off the manhole, and pulled himself into the street. He turned to help Andrew up after. Andrew climbed up with the help of his new friend, and saw Sunsetville for the first time.
Before his eyes could adjust to the light, he took in a gulp of fresh, crisp air that Nick had described earlier. It was a relief compared to the sewer. It was also a relief compared to the air in New Jersey. There the air was filled with ‘global warming’, something his mother talked about despairingly at the dinner table. Here, the boy figured, there could be no cars in this world. If it had no guns, how could there be cars?
The center of Sunsetville took Andrew’ breath away. Behind him he heard Nick say:
“Right? Makes my jaw drop everytime.”
The buildings were one or two stories high, built of wood that shimmered homely in the twilight. Amidst the markets that congregated around the cobblestone town square towered an incredible structure: a clock tower, built of stone. Instantly, Andrew thought of Big Ben, the clock tower he’d seen in the picture books his mother had once read him. At last, a pang
