Going All the Way

It was a good night. Shuffling down the street, Tom knew this. It was one of the few things he did know at that moment. Everything else was lost in the haze of the evening’s indulgences.

Those lights were so bright – he hadn’t noticed ever before. And the shadows they cast, they seemed alive. He knew them all by name.

There had been friends, drinks, girls, more and more…

The street stretched on in front of him like a tall hallway, its ceiling lost in shadow. He could feel himself moving along it, but nothing seemed to get any closer. Tom couldn’t tell if he’d been walking for a few minutes or a few hours. That really didn’t bother him.

What bothered him was the fact that he felt himself coming down. When he’d started walking, he’d stood hundreds of feet above the cracked cement, and was still able to count every chip in its surface. Now he felt himself diminish, receding towards the ground, which seemed to blur and become an abstraction.

Fuck that noise. He pulled his last joint of the evening out of his pocket along with his lighter. He’d been saving it for a good time, but this was a necessity. When he got where he was going (where was he going, anyway?) he could always roll a few more.

The alley to his right beckoned. Taking off his backpack, he sat down and lit up. Shit, that was really harsh. He had just the thing for that. He reached into his backpack, pulling a bottle of beer from it. Twist the cap, tip it back. That made two left.

Like the passing of his own personal civilization, Tom left behind the telltale traces to be swept up in the flood of time: an empty bottle with the butt of a joint in the bottom. And, a few feet away, a twist-cap.

But he didn’t go back the way he came. At the other end of the alley, he saw a subway entrance. Fuck yeah. Sure as hell beat walking in the wind. Making his way towards it, he tried to remember which one it was, and which way he needed to go. But he couldn’t quite tell where he was, so he shuffled the question off to the side of his mind.

Down the stairs, down the halls, towards the noise, and onto the platform, where a train was just opening its doors. He made it on just before they closed and found a seat. As the subway began to move, he saw that his car was empty.

Where was he going, anyway? And where was everyone? And… had he even paid a fare? He must have, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall having done it. The train steadily picked up speed. Head spinning more and more, he managed to form one last thought – this is not so good.

Black.

Up. Through the open door. Onto a deserted, semi-lit platform. Fall. Puke. Better. Up again.

He found himself walking down a hall. Where to, he had long ago given up wondering. It was lit by intermittently spaced naked bulbs directly above. Then from up ahead came the sound of footsteps. In heels.

The door at the end of the hall opened. There she stood, framed and silhouetted.

“Hey.”

“Oh,” he managed, “Hey…”

She paused, tilted her head. “You lost?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Whatever, though.”

“The party’s just down that way,” she said, with a nod of her head to the hallway behind her. “Come with me.”

He made his way towards her, knowing she studied his every step.

“I’m Amy,” she told him, extending her arms towards him.

“Tom,” he said, returning the hug.

“Do you have anything to drink, Tom?”

Wordlessly, he slung his bag off his shoulders and unzipped it, revealing the two remaining bottles. Amy smiled at him and pulled both out. He couldn’t help but be infected by that smile, and replied with a grin. He put his bag back on, and she handed him a drink. They opened the bottles, tossed the caps, began walking, and drank.

After a moment, he laughed softly. She looked at him questioningly.

“What?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Oh, no, never mind.”

“What?!” She was laughing now, grabbing his free hand.

“Hey!”

She led him through a side door.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“The party can wait for a few minutes, don’t you think?”