Magus and Tyler appeared at the open door. It was at the back of a darkened room, people seated at tables, their faces obscured. If there were windows, they couldn’t be seen.
From all appearances, it looked like a costume party; although, surprisingly, there weren’t many women, and what women there were wore form-fitting Cloche hats and ankle length dresses. A scantily-dressed girl with a bobbed haircut and a knee-length flapper dress shimmied to an old piece by Duke Ellington. The man at the piano wore a jacket and vest, spats on his shoes as he tapped his feet to the music. Men in single-breasted suits leaned over half-finished drinks, old-fashioned hats concealing their eyes.
Not everyone shared the convivial mood, drinking in darkness as if from shame. It was so easy to disappear with all the curious alcoves and nooks. Unfortunately, it made looking for Laurel appreciably more difficult.
“She’s not here,” said Magus, as if overhearing Tyler’s thoughts.
“How do you know?”
“I’ve looked everywhere.”
Tyler didn’t believe him, peering into alcoves as people glared back at him.
“We can ask the bartender,” suggested Tyler. It seemed it was already Magus’ intention, having crossed the room toward the far corner. There were no liquors on display, just a plain bar, all seats occupied.
By the time Tyler approached, Magus had turned away, shaking his head. It wasn’t good enough for Tyler.
The bartender wore suspenders, his sleeves rolled up as if he were about to lead a barbershop quartet.
“Did you see anyone walk through that door?” asked Tyler, leveling his finger at the door he and Magus entered just moments before.
“Lots of people in this joint. You want a drink? I’ll get you a drink. Sure, folks come and go. But it’s none of my concern who they are.”
Magus grabbed Tyler by the arm. “You gotta know who to ask. Not everyone pays attention to what seems out of place.”
Magus gestured to a table. Tyler claimed a seat, as did Magus.
“I could use a drink,” noted Tyler, reaching inside his jacket pocket for his wallet.
“That won’t do you any good here,” explained Magus. “They got their own currency.”
“How do I get some?” asked Tyler.
“Hold yourself like a gentleman and you can manage on I-owe-yous.”
“This doesn’t make sense,” grumbled Tyler who’d never felt so keen for a stiff drink. He stood, but Magus grabbed him by the jacket.
“Sit down,” insisted Magus. Frustrated, Tyler complied.
“We’re being watched,” whispered Magus.
“By whom?” asked Tyler, glancing around.
“Someone who doesn’t live like the usual shadows here. Someone who knows we don’t belong here.”
It seemed to Tyler, that everyone was gazing in their direction, eyeless faces examining them.
“I’m assuming you’ve been here before?” said Tyler, anger mounting.
“Yes, but you and I are linked.”
“If we’re linked, then I’ve been here too,” suggested Tyler
“Probably in dreams. Whatever I experienced here, you did too. But I’m sure you forgot everything. You lot always do.”
Tyler wished he’d been better at recalling his dreams; they were such fertile sources of inspiration, that is when he could remember them and had the good sense to commit his thoughts to paper. But to seek the dream was to push it further away.
“I don’t think I dream of you,” announced Tyler.
Magus chuckled. “You don’t. But you see what I see and maybe you see that woman approaching.”
“What brings you two handsome hombres here,” said a curvaceous woman with permed platinum-blonde hair, her blouse revealing ample cleavage and her skirt hugging her wide hips and ample thighs. She grinned broadly, her hand holding the back of Tyler’s chair, her fingers grazing his back. Her voice was deep and sultry when she wanted it to be, irritatingly high-pitched when she forgot herself.
“We’re looking for someone,” announced Magus, who did appear more clean-cut and presentable.
“I do believe you’re twins,” she noted, flashing her perfectly-shaped teeth. Her face was caked with makeup and her lips brightly rouged.
“You might say that,” answered Magus.
“Mind if I ..” she continued, gesturing to a third seat at the table.
Magus stood up, instinctively pulling the chair away from the table for the woman to take a seat.
The woman offered her hand to Magus, her palm to the table. Magus accepted and squeezed it. When she offered her hand to Tyler, he did likewise. It was a soft hand, cool to the touch.
“You’re looking for someone?” she queried.
“A woman,” answered Magus.
“Her name’s Laurel Harrington,” added Tyler. “She’s tall, slender, dark hair.”
“Not me then,” she replied.
“We need to find her,” insisted Tyler.
“Someone’s dizzy with a dame,” she remarked, turning to Magus, who surprised Tyler by appearing clean-shaven. He and Magus truly looked identical now.
“I never got your name,” asked Magus.
“For once my reputation doesn’t precede me. Lula. Lula Mars.”
Tyler couldn’t have imagined a more apt name. It was surprising to Tyler the lengths people went for a costume party, choosing characters and even giving them names. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was finding Laurel, who asked for his help.
“Have you seen anyone who seemed out of place?” asked Tyler.
“I think I recognize you,” said Lula, still on the subject of identity. “West. That’s it. I knew I’d seen you before.”
West was Tyler’s father’s name. It was an uncanny guess, unnerving even.
“No. It’s Tyler,” he answered, disclosing nothing about this father. He didn’t remember his father anyway.
“My name’s Monroe,” answered Magus, referencing the name of Tyler’s imaginary friend.
“So what would you boys do with a woman like me?” Lula asked, her teeth giving her a predatory look. “And no need for blushing. I know you’ve already imagined me without my clothes.”
“We’re really just looking for someone,” asked Tyler, surprised the woman took casual flirtatious so far so fast. “Are you sure you haven’t seen anyone who looked lost? Her name’s Laurel. Maybe that sounds familiar?”
“And what’s she got I don’t?” she asked. With her feet against Tyler’s leg and her hand next to his, she was trying to distract him.
“She asked me to find her.”
“Honey, if a woman wants to be found, she’ll find you. Now let’s say we leave these boozehounds and blow this joint?
Lula had one hand over Magus’ hand and another over Tyler’s.
“You’ve seen her haven’t you?” asked Magus, scrutinizing Lula’s painted face.
“How do you know what I’ve seen or what I haven’t seen?”
“I know you, Lula. Nothing gets past you.”
“You may be right about that,” she answered proudly. “But information has a price.”
“Faye Rand’s been here.”
“That bitch can go where she likes,” she answered. “She ain’t my responsibility.”
“But you saw her,” insisted Magus, like a dogged gumshoe confident that he could see through all manner of bullshit.
“And what if I did? There’s no accounting for where she goes or what she does. Though her Houdini act is getting old, and I don’t care if they call her perfect, she’s more trouble than she’s worth. Next time she walks out that door, I hope she doesn’t come back.”
“And you saw her come back?” asked Magus.
“A few nights ago.”
“Where was she going?” asked Tyler.
“What makes you think I’d know? She doesn’t talk to me anymore.”
“She was alone?” asked Tyler.
“That’s how she likes it, until she needs some dough and you’ll see her with a man who just thinks he’s struck gold, only she’ll be gone by morning and he’ll never see her again.”
Tyler suspected both Lula and Faye were prostitutes, maybe not full-time but when it suited them.
“Faye breaks hearts, but not me,” she declared. “You want a gal?” she asked, leaning close to Tyler. “I won’t run away and I won’t disappoint.”
“Did you see her with another woman?” asked Tyler, keeping to his purpose, much to Lula’s annoyance.
“Faye always travels alone. Sometimes she goes back to Rex and he can’t think straight. That fool forgives her anything. Me? I’d get the cold shoulder for weeks if I pulled the same disappearing acts.”
Tyler noticed her hand retrieving something from his pocket. It was the card.
“That’s mine,” he growled, grabbing her wrist with one hand and retrieving the card with the other.
“I’ve seen those cards. Faye makes ‘em. She’ll have you hoofin’ it all over two cities until you’re ready to kill her and it’ll be good riddance if you do.”
“Would this Rex know where to find her?”
“If you got an interest in her, Rex won’t like it. And if he don’t like it, best that you don’t like it either.”
“He can have Faye. It’s Laurel I’m seeking.”
“And I don’t know a Laurel,” insisted Lula, her arms crossed. “Funny name for a girl, though.”
“She came here.”
“And I didn’t see her. Look, you boys want my company? You’d best decide ‘cause this conversation’s getting dull.”
Lula stood up. “I’ll go powder my nose, but when I come back, I expect you boys’ll know what you want.”
She brought maximum attention to her waist when she walked, shimmying from side to side as if she expected all eyes to be fixated on her posterior. Tyler realized he was staring, and turned away.
“She’s lying,” noted Tyler’s alter ego.
“Why do you say that?”
“She always lies,” he answered with a grin.
“So this is all a waste of time?” concluded Tyler, seething.
“No. We just need to keep her with us long enough until the truth comes out. She might be a liar but she’s terrible at it. Her big mouth betrays her sooner or later.”
“So I gotta sleep with her? Is that what she wants?”
“She just wants money.”
“And my money’s got no value here, does it?”
“I know where I can borrow some,” said Magus, producing a familiar greenback, “but I owe him a fortune.”
“What kind of money is this anyway?”
Tyler grabbed a five dollar bill from Magus. Looks the same to me.
“But the date. Look at the date. You can’t circulate your bills here.
Tyler glanced at the date of the note. 1929.
“You realize this is worth more than five dollars,” noted Tyler.
“Probably about $70 to you,” explained Magus. “And with $40 of these dollars, we can pay her off for tonight.”
“What are we doing tonight?”
“Keeping the lady company.”
“That’s not why we’re here.”
“You gonna let me have all the fun again? What good does that do you? No. That’s no good. Time you had some fun.”
“This is ridiculous. I don’t even know why I’m here. I get a card. I don’t even know these people. And maybe they don’t want to be found. Besides, what’s with the gag? I mean the costumes ‘an all. When does this Lula slip out of character? And when do we get to have a real conversation? I’m losing patience with the bullshit and the song and dance.”
The pianist had taken a breather, the dancer presiding at a table with four overweight men in double-breasted suits.
“This isn’t the world you know, Tyler. This is Two Cities, though some call it Elysium and some even call it Dreamland because everyone comes here whether they remember it or not. But now you’ll remember the dream ‘cause you’re not just watching it, you’re actually living it.”
“I should wake up.”
“I hope we’re not talking of sleeping,” said Lula, giving the rigid frame of her hair a few securing taps. “So where’s your digs, boys?”
“We don’t have any,” explained Tyler, impatient with her many presumptions. She wasn’t his type. She was loud, aggressive, distrustful and too quick to turn things her way.
“We’re visitors who’ve just come looking for someone,” answered Tyler. “But I see she’s not here.”
“You guys for real?” she said, hands on her hips, losing patience herself.
“Everything’s real in two cities,” noted Magus with a smile.
“Some kind of real is still a waste of my time,” she commented. “Look, I’m heading back to Rex. You help me get back safe, he might be able to help you find Faye.”
What about Laurel?, though Tyler. Was she already forgotten? He wouldn’t forget her. And he would find her. Perhaps Faye knew where she was.
Lula had already began to strut purposefully to a front entrance. Magus and Tyler followed. It was another stairwell, only this one leveled out to a shop full of pianos, uprights and grands. There was no shopkeeper. Gazing out the frosted windows, it was clearly after hours.
Lula purposefully strode to the front entrance, where a man appeared, his face in shadow and a hand concealing his eyes. The man opened the door for all three of them, nodding a silent goodnight.
Magus and Tyler stepped out onto a busy downtown street, Tyler holding his jacket tight to keep out the cold. The street was something of a car show, autos from the 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s and 60s competing for space. There were Model Ts and muscle cars and everything in between, even trolley cars which hadn’t graced downtown streets in at least 50 years.
Signs flashed from the sides of buildings, and cars honked as traffic grinded to a halt.
“What’s happening?” said Tyler.
“Welcome to two cities,” answered Magus with a smile. “Well, one of them anyway.”
Tyler noticed that men wore suits and hats and women donned dresses, heels and coats. The fashions were dated.
“I don’t understand,” added Tyler.
Lula was still striding purposefully down what appeared to be Fifth Street. Magus gestured for Tyler to keep up.
“I told you. These are the shadowlands. This isn’t the world that forgets dreams. This is where everything is remembered.”
“Have I gone back in time?”
“No, but time doesn’t mean anything here. Assume nothing and you’ll do just fine.”
Tyler kept pace with the others but he was too distracted by the sights and sounds. It was like black and white photos come to life. How was all of this possible?
