The rumble of excavators and the constant thump of drills made the air shake as construction was underway downstream of the Thames. A few men in helmets and fluorescent jackets stomped heavily across the sand, folding their hands over their mouths and shouting to each other. Long, slender cranes pierced the canopy like straws. At the moment this place is like a battlefield, covered with tired scars, potholes and broken tiles everywhere. But a few months, or maybe a year later, there will be another huge building proudly towering into the clouds. It's as if the city has discovered that there is no more room to extend the earth and is trying its best to build a new civilization in the sky.
Jonathan Starling leaned against the bridge railing and watched the men work, his jacket shaking in the wind. He is fourteen years old, with a long body topped with tousled brown hair, his gray eyes tinged with worry, each movement seeming to proclaim, "Don't mess with me, it's annoying. The school uniform hidden inside his jacket was too small for him, baring his body out of shape.
These are the impressions of Jonathan to strangers, but if you were to ask someone who knows Jonathan what he looks like, they would have a hard time giving an answer. They might instinctively frown or shrug, but Jonathan just isn't the kind of person who draws too much attention to himself. (Besides, even if you asked Jonathan himself what he looks like, he probably wouldn't be able to answer. He hasn't looked in the mirror in years.)
This ability to avoid attention - the ability to disappear from everyone's eyes - has come in handy since years ago. Jonathan was able to slip out of school and disappear like a ghost through the front door without getting in trouble with the parents' handbook or attracting suspicious inquiries from teachers. When he should have been dozing off in chemistry class or absentmindedly dragging his mud-spattered legs around the sports field, he strolled the streets of London, looking for something different. He explored the winding alleys of Soho, passed through the mossy tombstones of Highgate Cemetery, and stood high above Alexandra Palace overlooking a city that stretched like an ant's nest into the distance.
But Jonathan didn't always get that lucky. There were always slack-jawed officers and policemen poking around the streets, and a few particularly alert teachers would notice his empty seat in class. Every now and then Jonathan found himself in the principal' office, sitting without a word, watching her shake her head sadly and deliver one of those encouraging speeches. He'd been suspended a few times, and now it was his last warning. He's never gotten in trouble at home for it yet, though. The school has tried to see his dad on several occasions, and Jonathan is always careful to give them some forceful - but denialist - reply. He would sometimes tell them that Dad was too sick to attend; at least sometimes that was true.
On this day, seeing that math and advanced math were just too much to handle, Jonathan slipped out the back door of the school during lunchtime. Passing LondonBridge, the glittering high-rises of CanaryWharf caught his eye. After making sure the people on the tube were in a hurry and not paying attention to him, he took the Jubilee Line and headed that way. He arrived around 3:00 p.m. The bright, cold autumn sky was painted black, and the wide streets and squares were still filled with pedestrians busy moving between places, their heads bowed as if frightened by the massive glass buildings standing in every direction.
A familiar police figure appeared in the distance, and Jonathan saw him coming down the passageway, towards himself. It's time to bolt, if they start asking questions, you're done. Jonathan tried to act carelessly, leaving the tracks and turning around to walk between two buildings in the middle of the pier. The policeman shouted something at him, but he pretended not to hear. As soon as he turned the corner, he ran hard.
Jonathan may not have been able to break any records on the track, but no one could catch him on the streets of London. He ran around the zigzag past the commuters and shoppers and took a shortcut into a small green park. Some people were skating in a makeshift rink, spinning and sliding, making beautiful arcs. Jonathan scampered past like a hare, and the cop called out some more, but he was so far behind in the back that he was too far behind. Jonathan did not care about the entrance to a large shopping center, but insisted on staying in the open area. The shopping center had closed-circuit monitors and security guards, always on the lookout for kids, afraid they would steal something. He was safer out there.
He crossed a few streets and found himself running into a small square. A fountain sprayed water gently into the air. A small kiosk in the corner was selling coffee and snacks. There was not a sound on the road around the square, and there was a sense of silence about the place that would reassure him. Looking around, he knew he'd gotten rid of the cop. He was safe for now. Jonathan sat down on the low marble wall as soon as he blocked it, trying to catch his breath.
On one side of the square, three buildings were built next to each other, standing tall in front of Jonathan, almost next to the clouds. The largest building was in the middle, with a light on the roof that flickered on and off to alert low-flying aircraft. Simply straining his neck to look up at it made Jonathan feel so small and insignificant. He wondered what it would be like to work at the very top, looking down on the rest of the world every day.
At that moment, a lady in a pinstripe suit caught his attention. She walked spritely through the middle of the square, nudging the ground with her umbrella as she went. The round-rimmed hat was elegantly fastened on the side of her head, revealing a handful of fluorescent pink hair. Although no one else noticed the lady, something about her captivated Jonathan so much that he simply couldn't take his eyes off her. The lady saw him watching himself, smiled sweetly at him, changed direction and came this way. Somehow, Jonathan's heart surged with an unexplainable feeling of unease.
At the same time, the policeman came into the square from the other direction, the vigorous exercise made him pant heavily, and his face turned red. Jonathan stood up without a moment's hesitation and moved slowly toward the exit. The lady, seeing the situation, winked at Jonathan and put a finger to her lips. She then walked over to the policeman and asked a very long-winded question. Jonathan didn't need a second gesture - he turned and ran away. Whoever she was, she did Jonathan a big favor.
Midway to the subway station, the phone in his pocket rang, startling him. He fumbled for the phone and looked at the caller ID. It was Mrs Elwood - their next-door neighbor and Dad's only friend. This could only mean one thing. It was bad news.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Jonathan. It's me. You see ...... your dad is sick again. They've taken him to the hospital. I'm driving there. Are you still at school? I'll pick you up."
Jonathan looked around, and the rows of windows stared back at him expressionlessly. "No, it's okay. I'm on my way home." He said.
