Crisis in Zootopia

Chapter V – La vie boheme?

Carol settles in.

The first apartment Nick brought Carol to really had just one thing going for it – location, as it was in the building next door to his and was close to Zootopia's rail system, four stops from her job. The ceiling was a bit low – had Nick been even two inches taller, he would not have fit. The apartment would be considered a tad small even for a Rabbit her father's size, but for her it might be cozy. There was a dark living room, then a space the same area as the living room divided between a tiny dining area and the shaft for the utilities (heat, air, water) conduits on one side and the kitchenette and bathroom (too small for Nick to fit into comfortably), and then the final third of the apartment, the bedroom, which finally had a window. The price was also near the upper limit for Carol's budget. Nick promised the manager that Carol would let him know by 10 the next morning if she would or wouldn't take it. As a favor to Nick, he wouldn't show it to anyone else until after he heard back or the time ran out.

The trio headed out of the area. Judy was still a bit achy and even sniffly, but insisted a walk would do her good. Both Nick and Carol kept an eye on her to make sure Judy didn't over-tire herself. Even Judy was a bit confused by the route Nick took the sisters on to find the next apartment. "Don't worry," he assured them, "it's actually just as easy for Carol to get to work, but it takes a different transfer to get from our building to this one. Since it's Sunday, meaning there aren't as many trains, it's just as quick to walk across the city center."

They took his word for it. They were amazed at the building he finally led them to. For one thing, they saw it was more than a tall building with numerous bits and towers which covered an entire city block, it was probably one of the twenty or so highest in the city. Since they were now in a part of the city mostly built for mammals sized between Horses and Rhinos (and the neighboring district on one side was on the scale for Elephants and Giraffes), that meant it was indeed large in every respect. As they circled the building towards the main entrance, Judy realized where she was, and knew that the area she had her foot patrol in – an area built for mammals her size – was only a ten minute walk for her away from that entrance. The actual neighborhood they were in, however, was almost purely commercial.

"Well, that's welcoming," Judy said as they saw the complex was called 'Inferno Arts."

"It was founded about ten years ago by the heir of a very wealthy industrial family who was then a metal sculptor on the side who wanted to go full-time," Nick explained. "On the lower floors, it's mostly studio space for artists, plus some gallery space, and the upper floors are apartment spaces. You have to be a working creative artist, but that includes writers, dancers, and musicians. Only about a quarter of the artists work in metal, glass, or are potters but they kept the 'inferno' name. I think Mikey is currently in charge of letting out apartments; he's a regular sculptor."

The trio entered via the proper-sized door and Nick led them off to the left – they noted to the right was a gallery with items for sale produced at Inferno.

"Yo, that you Nick?"

The girls looked back towards the gallery, and saw a thin Cheetah wearing sunglasses standing in one of the doors.

"Hey, Chester, you doing well?" Nick called over across the Elephant-friendly lobby.

Chester loped over, pulling off his glasses as he did so. "Doing good, man. Whatcha doing? Haven't seen ya for a few weeks."

"Working the other side. Chester, this is Carol Hopps," Nick said, gesturing. "She's new in town, a published poet and novelist. I was wondering if there'd be space for her."

Chester shrugged. "Have to ask Mikey." He turned to Carol and offered her his paw. "Chester Tate, glassblower."

"Carol Hopps, poet," she responded. "This is my sister, Judy."

Chester nodded, but the name meant nothing to him at the time – it would hit him about thirty minutes later. "Mikey expecting you?"

"Oh, yeah. I wouldn't dare show up to see him for this without a warning."

"Good luck." They noticed the front door opening and a quintet of thirty-something Boars coming in and heading towards the shop. "Gotta go keep an eye on things!"

Nick led the bunnies into the depths of the building, saying as he did so, "That corridor leads to the studios with access to the kilns and forges. The painters have their studios at the higher levels on the outside; animators, musicians, and the like have inside studios or work inside their apartments. These are the sculpture studios." Pointing out a set of shallow steps, he added, "My guess is that those kind of stairs lead to smaller studios, our size and under."

Finally, they entered a large, high space, where a silver-grey one-horned Rhino was busy sculpting down a huge block of marble.

Carol stopped the other two, her eyes wide. "That's . . . that's. . . ."

"Mikey," Nick said with a shrug.

"No, that's Michael Angel! He's like the most famous living sculptor!"

Carol had raised her voice, which drew the Rhino's attention. Judy accurately put his age in the lower-to-mid forties, on the young side for such a famous artist, she thought. Still, Carol knew more about art and even history than she did.

"Nick! Long time, no heard from," the Rhino scolded. "Heard you were going straight."

"That's right, Mikey," Nick agreed. "I'm working my way through the Police Academy these days. This is Judy and Carol Hopps. . . ."

"Really! Nice meeting you, Officer Hopps; you must be even better than the news reports if you're reforming this scoundrel!" He looked at Carol. "I take it this is the prospective tenant you mentioned?"

"Carol Hopps," Carol agreed. "It's a real privilege to meet you, Mister Angel. I love the frieze you installed at Harford!"

The Rhino smiled. "Always good to meet a mammal with good taste. So, we aren't a conventional studio/apartment building, if such a thing even exists; we're an arts community, and an informal one at that so call me Mike or Mikey. Nick said you're a writer? Published?"

"Two chapbooks of poetry, and they're not self-published," Carol stated, "and I just had a third accepted yesterday. The first may have been with a small hometown press, the Bunnyburrow Rural Press, but the second two are with the Harford Literary Press. They also just accepted my first novel, and I have sold three short stories on top of some published in student collections. I've had three of my plays performed outside of class, and I adapted one into a film script which is just starting to film out in Hollyhock, although it's an Indie film, not a studio one. Hopefully it will be released in time for the Seaside Film Festival next summer."

"Okay, you're a writer," Mikey agreed. "Now, how will you earn a living as you write? We aren't a charity; miss two rent payments in any two year period and you're out."

"I start a job as a sub-editor at Harbor Seal and Roebuck tomorrow morning," Carol answered.

"You willing to co-sign her lease?" he asked Judy.

"Sure, although she'll be making more than I do," Judy answered.

"Fair enough." He dusted his hooves off and went over to a wall where there was a phone. He punched in four numbers, obviously dialing an internal number. "Carlie? Could you send Benjie down to show 37-b to a prospective resident? And ask Jo-Jo to come over to my studio as well?" He listened, thanked 'Carlie,' and hung up.

"Obviously, I won't fit up there. Benjie will show you the place and you can decide if you want it." The rent the Rhino mentioned was the same as the other building, but included electricity, basic cable, and a high speed wifi hook up, which were all out-of-pocket at the first apartment.

Benjie turned out to be a male Beaver, while Jo-Jo was a female Grey Kangaroo. Jo-Jo made a strange noise when she spotted Judy, before starting to bounce and exclaiming, "Are you Judy Hopps! You are! I have your commission!"

"Commission?" Judy asked.

"You know, as a City Medal winner!" She stopped bouncing and frowned. "You did know you're being awarded the City Medal, right?"

Judy shook her head.

"Oops, sorry to spoil it. I was on the approved list of sculptors, and was asked yesterday if I wanted to do the official portrait plaque. Could you come in some night next week and pose? In full uniform, so I can get the detail. You won't need to stand long, 'cause I'll take about a dozen photos once we settle on a pose! This commission will be great!"

Judy blinked at the outpouring, while Nick and Mikey chuckled. "Carrots, talk with the nice sculptor," Nick told her, "while your sister and I talk business with. . . ?"

"Ben Cooley, also a sculptor, although mostly in wood," the Beaver answered. "Did Mikey already tell you the rent and such?"

"He did," Carol answered. "Carol Hopps, writer."

"I figured it was writing or something to do with computers, since the boss there didn't say anything about studio space. As soon as your sister . . . sister, right?" Carol nodded. "As soon as your sister is done, I'll take you up to see the place. If I remember what I read about your sister, you two are from the Tri-Burrows? First of all, don't try and think of this place too logically; even native Zootopians get a headache. The place makes sense once you're used to it, but the comparative room numbering gets really confusing because there are six different residential block towers. 37-B means the third elevator block, seventh residential elevator exit, apartment b. That's the tower right above us, actually. There are two basements below us, more-or-less five floors of studios above us – three for art and one for dancers and one for musicians, although one Camel runs an old-style hand printing press for luxury editions on the third floor, then maybe nine for residents. Putting the place together is like a jigsaw puzzle, because we try and accommodate all sizes of mammals, so the number of floors can be a bit . . . variable in some respects. The lower residential floors are for the big mammals, while generally floors five, six, and seven in this block are for mammals between our size and the next major size up. However, for this block there are just three apartments on floor seven, as that's the first narrow floor of this tower and the next three floors are our size. The top two floors are for smaller mammals."

At that point, Judy managed to break free of her fan, and the group made for the elevator block. "We have over six hundred mammals with studio space of some sort," Ben explained. "About two-thirds live in the complex, and I think all have lived here at some point. The original concept was space for potters, metal workers, glass blowers, and sculptors, but the idea kinda got out of hand pretty quickly from the pre-planning stage from what I've been told. We have six hundred thirty apartments – the ones without studio space are mostly writers or computer artists that work in their apartments. Now, this is an adults-only artist colony – no kids, and, if you get married or otherwise want to share the space, they have to be accepted as a creative mammal of some sort on their own merit. The closest thing we have to exceptions are a couple of academics – in history, lit, and such – who've been allowed to marry in so long as they've published." He pointed out the right elevator for the group to use.

When the group left the elevator, Judy and Carol looked confused. The side of the building the elevators were on (there had been three of different sizes on the ground floor, plus a stairwell) now just had their elevator and one for smaller mammals, plus the exit to the stairwell. To their left was one apartment door, to their right was a blank wall, and in front of them a stair leading up to a platform three feet above floor level, where was a walkway and two doors.

"Like I said, a jigsaw puzzle," Ben told them as they exited. He gestured ahead and to the right. "High ceilings on the floor below for some of the large folk, a medium-to medium large-size apartment here, and then the two our size ahead of us." He frowned. "Not sure who else is on this floor; there are a lot of us. I think we only have something like eighteen vacancies all together, mostly for those smaller than us." He knocked on the door to their left.

After a moment, a Black Bear opened the door. He was a bit smaller than average height for his kind, a bit under six foot tall. Compared to some of the Brown or Polar Bears Judy had seen, he was tiny, even though he was still well over twice her height (even if she counted her ears and was standing as straight as possible). "Yes?" He had a pleasant, high baritone voice.

"Ben Cooley, one of the current building managers," Ben replied. "We have a prospective tenant here, and I admit I don't know the floor well, so I was hoping you could help us."

The Bear gave a friendly huff and said, "Just a second." He ducked back into his apartment and came out, keys in hand, as the door automatically shut behind him. "I'm Theodore Paddington, but my friends call me Ted. Animation."

This seemed to be the standard introductory gambit at Inferno, so Carol waved and said, "Carol Hopps, writer."

"If you move in, there'd be just the three of us. B is the apartment next to me. Julie Burns, she's a Koala painter, left to get married last month. Now C is a bit odd, so I hope you aren't noisy."

"I'm not," Carol assured him.

"Bart Fink is some sort of Bat; not sure what kind," Ted told them.

"Oh, that's where he hangs out?" Ben said. "I knew he lived here somewhere, but not where. He does specialized mosaics and constructs in the Caves." This was a region of Zootopia for purely nocturnal mammals, closed off to daylight and even moderate lighting. "Things that show up in black light or that reflect echo location in different ways."

Ted nodded. "I don't think I've seen him since the week he moved in three years ago – I moved in just before him. He leaves through one of his windows. He sleeps by day – of course – and Julie told me she never heard a peep out of him. You'll see there's soundproof padding on both sides of the wall between your place and his." "He pointed towards the Bat's door. "You can see the 'do not disturb during daylight' notice on his door."

"Thanks!" Carol said.

"I won't fit into your place, but if you move in let me know and you can come over for coffee and dessert." He patted a slightly ample middle. "I make great coffee, although you might have to bring your own mug. I do know all the best local bakeries and can get whatever you like."

"Not carrot cake," Carol said with a laugh.

"You're the only one in the family that doesn't love carrot cake," Judy pointed out.

"I know; it's good but after all these years, I'm sick of it," Carol retorted. "Do you like whip cream?" she asked Ted.

"I love it, even most of the fake stuff," he admitted.

"I'll let you know if I'm moving in, but while I like any kind of fruit pie, I especially love pumpkin. You bring the pie you like; I'll bring the whipped cream!"

Ted laughed and went back into his apartment as Ben led them up the stairs to the apartment.

From the doorway, it would turn out to be eighteen feet deep and forty-two feet wide, a huge space for a bunny. The ceiling was six feet, much higher than the first apartment. The entrance hall was wide, six feet, probably to allow a slightly larger mammal that was able to squeeze in the door (Ted would indeed not have fit through the door, even if he had been thin) to turn about in. They noted the sound-proofing material on the wall separating this apartment from the Bat's. Ahead of them was a two-foot wide closet, ample even for Nick. Next was a six-foot wide bathroom. On the right side of the bathroom were two toilets – one bunny size, the other set more for Nick's size or a bit taller. The rest of the right side was taken up by the tub with an adjustable shower. On the left were two sinks at different heights. To the trio's surprise, next to the sinks was a hookup for a washer, with the rest of the space taken up by a drying cabinet. At the center of the outside wall was a window (a foot and half wide, four and a half feet tall) made of some kind of milky opaque material – about half the ambient light was allowed in, but of course no one could see inside.

Next to the bath was a seven-foot wide kitchen. It was clear there was no fridge or stove/oven. "You can buy your own, or we can supply and install the stove and the refrigerator for free," Ben told them. "Your size, of course. If you want a washer, though, you have to buy one and have it sent here. We still handle the installation. We used to supply the washers, but some of the artists and sculptors, and especially a few of the potters, were too hard on them, ruining them and so jacking up the maintenance costs. Once you're here a year, you can work part-time for the complex – just about a third of us do. About half the maintenance staff are residents who have the appropriate licenses, working part time. Others work in the gallery, or, like me, work in the main office. Even part of the cleaning crew live here – the pay goes directly into the rent."

The nine x nine bedroom was next, and like the kitchen and bathroom, there was an outside window the same size as those, but like the kitchen this was clear glass with blinds. Nick was amused to see that Carol's right foot was trembling with excitement, just as Judy's did when she was happy or agitated – at any second, it would likely start rapidly thumping.

Both Carol and Judy's feet were soon thumping in happiness. The living room was fifteen feet deep x nearly eighteen feet wide. The further outside wall again had a narrow strip window, but the view from that side was of other high-rise commercial buildings. Right in front of the hallway, however, while the window was still four and half feet tall, the window had four of the panels adjacent, making it six feet wide. The blinds had been closed when they entered the apartment, but Ben now opened them and the view was excellent. The building across the street was about fifteen feet lower than the window, and the buildings rapidly decreased in height towards Little Rodentia, with a view of Tundratown beyond it.

Carol looked back hopefully at Nick, who had been spending most of his time looking over the lease agreement. Nick nodded at her with a smile. "I'll take it!" Carol exclaimed, already planning the apartment in her head.

Ben smiled, and gestured at the walls, which in the hall, living room, and bedroom were all currently painted with light gray priming. "Take a look," he said, pulling out a color chart from the clipboard he had been carrying. "Choose any colors. We'll have the place painted by the end of the week, and you can fully move in on the First."

Carol chose a light green for the hallway, and the lightest green for the living room. The bedroom would be a light blue. "I'll give you the name of some stores where you can get the washer and some furniture at decent prices," Nick told her.

Taking a glance at Judy for approval, which was given, Carol hugged Nick and kissed the bottom of his jaw. "Thanks, Nick!"