Chapter 6
Johnson
A.N.- There's a lot to say about this chapter, and I want to put in some mystery, so I'll try to explain a few things without eliminating plot. First, I know I've made it way too easy for Johnson to get to London alone, for even pre-9/11 airline security, etc. was better than that! And that's assuming he already had a valid passport… Ax will know what I mean when I say I've pulled an Ellimistic maneuver. I needed to get him there unsupervised, and this was the best way in my mind to do so. His journey will be made, erm, more difficult next chapter. Secondly, the similarities between Will and Johnson are there on purpose, they are not a mistake and I am not just borrowing from Pullman's character. My intentions will become clearer within the next two or three chapters. Happy reading, and thanks to adah, sparkelygem, Kirri, and Ceres Wunderkind for your help- many of your suggestions will be used in the next chapter more than this one, but the help is great. Ok, I'll shut up and you can read.
Screeeetch!
Johnson snapped out of a dream-like trance as the train lurched suddenly forward before rumbling to a stop.
He was here already?
The boy checked his ticket and yes, this was Paddington Station. Here his Plan would begin. The Plan was broken into four main parts, and each one had been chopped apart and put back together piece by piece, and at this moment, the execution of his scheme was his sole ambition. Johnson had worked out his itinerary like a military exercise, and so far it had functioned like one.
Except for the one variable he had left out.
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The Plan had actually started months before, with the idea starting as a jumble of facts and fantasies in his mind. Only with the money he drew in from his mother's newfound wealth (apparently a relative had left a large inheritance or something of the sort, Johnson didn't know exactly), his dreams began to materialize. His mother's lack of interest in his daily life had given him a large amount of freedom, sometimes even too much, but it was for this reason that Johnson had been able to make a Trans-Atlantic flight without too much difficulty.
The first stage of his Plan had been to get his mother to drive him to the airport. This hadn't been that complicated, he simply had had to tell her he needed to do research for a class project of some sort. His mom was not negligent, however, simply busy and self-absorbed, and Johnson had had a hard time getting her to leave him alone for the two hours he needed to get out of the country. It had been hard to lie to her so deeply, for like her sister Marisa she had a way of charming people into total security and seduction. But he was practiced at it, and she had left him alone, as he knew she would, and his mother went off to her own affairs.
But as it turned out, it wasn't the lying, or even getting the money for the airfare that had been difficult. It was torture for the 13-year-old boy to sit in an airplane with stewardesses breathing down his neck. The long, tedious flight had forced the child to reflect on what he had left behind, mainly his younger brother Edmond, and conquer his fears. Trying to look legal knowing that by now his mother's government friends would be staking out the airport for him gnawed his conscience to the bone.
'Stay calm, ' he told himself. ' You're putting that behind you.' But this was hardly reassuring when he stopped to consider the similarities between his aunt and her sister.
' It's over now. You can't turn back. '
But that fact was one of the things that frightened him the most.
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The stream of business-class people leaving the Heathrow train line reminded Johnson of the nature videos he had seen in science class, salmon crushed into a narrow river going uphill. The boy was short for his age, only four foot ten inches, and therefore was almost overtaken by all the men and women concerned only with getting wherever it was they were going. Somehow, despite this, he was able to get off the train with his small backpack and step into a very new surrounding.
Paddington Station was not the heart of London, not the London that Johnson had read about and heard tales of. He quickly walked down to a bus stop and boarded a southeastern directed bus. His Aunt's house was to the north, but he wanted to see the world, as he had told himself years before, and had business to take care of anyway.
The bus trip was particularly uneventful, unless you count Johnson's heart continually throbbing with anticipation and delight. But uneventful was not the word to describe the world the boy saw as he jumped off the bus. It was the feeling of uncontaminated chance at really living, the same feeling that the world of the mulefa had given Mary three years earlier, but Johnson the suburban kid saw the city as life, and Mary the city woman saw the untouched nature as such.
It was as if someone had suddenly switched a television set onto full blast. The contrast between the simply decorated and boring surroundings of the train and the noisy, bustling city caught Johnson off guard.
Sunlight streamed down from the clouds, and the boy had to shield his eyes to behold the sights around him. But it was worth it, for the setting in which Johnson had been thrown into became a part of him forever.
There were people everywhere. 'They call America the melting pot?' thought Johnson. 'London deserves that title.' Tourists with I Love London tee shirts to locals eating in diners or feeding pigeons, all seemed to be a part of the scenery, as if the City wasn't whole without the congregation of human beings together. It seemed as if someone had wanted to take a sample of each race or culture and put them all down in one place.
As he walked down the street away from the train station, or rather dodged traffic and pedestrians in an attempt to, he saw the delicate mixture of Victorian and Modern architecture in a variety of shops and buildings lining the streets. He saw eateries of every kind, from street-side cafes to extravagant restaurants. There were dress shops, computer shops, jewelry, makeup, anything that Johnson wanted he could have bought right here, without leaving the street.
Johnson breathed in the spectacle, loving every bit of the exciting, thrilling city. It seemed so…real, and different, as opposed to the thin fantasy the boy had lived in at his typical suburban home. The city seemed to break the mold of routine that he had lived in for 13 years, giving the world a freshly exhilarating aura.
It struck the boy as comic for a moment- a young boy running away to a big city with nothing but a few possessions to find a rich relative and live happily ever after. It sounded like something from a Disney movie or a Dickens novel- something that was too good to be true. Of course, though, this trip was a realization of childhood dreams, so in a way it was right out of fantasy.
Johnson mentally shifted gears as he walked to the bus stop on the corner to wait for a northern-bound bus into the heart of town. Once there, he would exchange the rest of his money into pounds sterling catch another bus to the Bishop's Avenue.
It was so easy in the boy's mind, so easy. A more skeptic child would be sure it would never work, but despite his recent manipulating scheme, he was trusting, and it was quite evident. It seemed to him that since he had escaped his mother's mental stronghold, the journey to Aunt M's was a walk in the park.
The bus pulled up and Johnson boarded quickly. He was slightly off schedule, and he needed to get to Aunt Marisa's before it was too late.
Because, as he had heard, the city became less inviting after dark.
A.N Ok, so sue me for the formatting. The stupid computer won't let me learn how to fix it. (Although I am open to suggestions…)
