Down | Tyrus

II

I'm awakened by a crash of the dishes in my kitchen spilling out of the cupboards and onto the floor. Confused, I get out of bed, but as soon as I try to stand up, the sway of the city ground knocks me off my balance. This is irregular. Most mornings are quiet and still, but today, the city lurches up and down in sputters. I remain in my room, holding on to my bed frame, until the floor stops rumbling, after which, I see my mom appear in my doorway. 

"Are you alright?" she asks. 

I nod. 

"I'll have to make sure nothing is broken. Cyrus, will you check on the neighbours? Make sure they're all okay?"

"I'll get right on it."

After getting dressed, I step outside into the city and scan my surroundings. Nothing looks horribly out of place, except that all the lanterns are lit through house windows at five o'clock in the morning. The rocking woke everyone up, and I can hear the chatter through the walls at a volume like it's midday. I begin with the first house, knocking on their door, and Ms. Nitter opens up. Inside, I can hear the baby crying, but aside from a scrape on her shoulder, Ms. Nitter seems okay. 

"Are any of you hurt?" I ask. "Do you need me to get a bandage?" 

She glances down at the scrape then waves her hand, saying, "Oh, that's nothing of your concern. But thank you for checking in. If you are looking to help someone, you should check on Mr. Cutler."

I look back at the streets, which are now becoming crowded with other people. Mr. Cutler's house is closer to the centre of the floor, which is a five minute walk away from where I am now, but I can get there fast if I run. At 94, he's one of the oldest people living on this floor, and he lives alone, so people are always checking in on him. 

"Thank you," I say, and Ms. Nitter waves me farewell as I take off in the opposite direction from her.

I follow the central sight of the clock to lead me toward the middle of the fourth floor, the floor on which I and Mr. Cutler live. When I make it to the door, I nearly collide into Buffy who steps out at the same moment as I'm about to knock.

"Cyrus," she says, her face filled with worry. "Do you see the medic?"

"Why? What happened?" I question. 

"Mr. Cutler was hit by a falling book, and I'm worried he might have a concussion."

Buffy's eyes brighten at the sight of something behind me, and I spin around to see a woman in a white nurse's gown and hat coming up to the door. 

"I'm sorry that took so long," she says. "Where is he?"

"He's in his bedroom," Buffy answers.

The nurse nods and steps past her, turning back to say, "I can take it from here. Thank you, both of you, for keeping an eye on him."

I didn't do anything, but I accept the thanks anyway. Correcting her would only waste time. Outside now, those walking are beginning to return to their homes, concluding that everything is safe once again. There's no point in going to bed myself, for I have to start working soon, and Buffy doesn't look like she's planning on relaxing just yet. 

"You go check on the houses in that direction," she orders, pointing to the right, "and I'll check in this direction."

"Okay, but can you let me know when it's time for me to go?" I ask. "I don't have my pocket watch on me, and you'll be closer to the clock."

"For sure."

I head off, following her command, going from door to door, asking if anyone needs assistance. Every house turns me away, which is a good sign, because that means nobody is severely hurt by the city's bizarre rocking. As I finish my sixth house, I reach another stairway, this one much thinner than the central stairway, and I spot my dad kneel down by the railing. As I approach, I realize he's not by the railing. He's actually by a lack of railing. Where a copper bar should extend between the two posts, there's now a rope tied tightly across the space. It's not very effective, though. Anyone could still fall through the hole underneath. 

"What happened to the railing?" I ask. 

"Broke during the turbulence," my dad explains. 

"That's what it was?" I say. "Turbulence?"

"Well, that's what I assume," he replies, "although I'm not the pilot. Could've been something else."

"What are you going to do about the railing?"

"The piece landed on the second floor, so I'll find a way to reattach it."

"Why did it fall off in the first place?"

My dad glances up at me as he finishes tying the last knot in the rope. "You're just a ball of curiosity today, aren't you?"

"I just want to know what's going on," I explain. 

"Well," he says as he stands up, "the metal was decaying where it links to the posts, so the shaking caused it to come out of place."

"Is this the only issue? Or were other things affected too?"

"I don't know, Cyrus. I hope this is it. Us maintenance workers are starting to have to get creative with how we fix things, because the mayor wants us to use less of our regular metals and materials. He says they're in short supply."

"Short supply? But we don't have another supply."

"Yes, but the mayor says he has it all under control, and we just need to trust him."

"Do you trust him?" I ask.

My dad lets out a sigh. "He's never given me a reason not to trust him." Then he picks up his tool kit from the ground and carries it on past me, saying, "Let me know if you see any other issues that need fixing."

"I will," I reply. 

He curls around to start down the stairs, and I continue on toward the next house, but before I can get there, my eyes are caught by a boy casually walking the floor, examining his surroundings thoughtfully. I think I recognize him, but it can't be him. Can it? Why would he be on the third level? I get closer, trying to see if that's really him or if my mind is playing tricks on me, but as I do, he spots me watching him, and I immediately look away. It's definitely him. 

I expect him to just ignore me, so I'm taken by surprise when he wanders over in my direction. I return my eyes to him, seeing a bright smile on his face, and something about it gives me the confidence to speak.

"What are you doing on the third level?" I ask. "Aren't you usually on the top?"

"Captain wanted me to check the rudders on this level," TJ explains.

"Captain?" I respond. "Isn't he your dad?"

"Yeah, but I'm not supposed to call him that. Not in public, at least."

"Oh," I say. "Well, I don't mean to keep you from your work."

TJ just shakes his head and grins, saying, "You're not. Actually, you can help me if you want."

"Um, I know I usually serve your family, but I must inform you that I have no experience in the flying mechanisms of the city."

Right away, TJ looks caught off guard and he corrects me, "No, I'm not asking for you to do it for me. I just wanted to know if you wanted to come with me. But it's fine if you don't. I'm sure you have other things you have to do—"

"No, I'll come," I say.

I'm confused as to why he's asking me to join him, but I'm not going to deny the opportunity. After all, he does seem very nice, much nicer than most of the high society people I've met. Maybe he doesn't realize that I'm not from there. He must, though. I'm obviously not wealthy like him. Maybe I'll find out why he wants to talk to me someday, or maybe I won't. Either way, if the pilot's son wants me around, who am I to deny him that request? 

A/N: Hello! So this chapter was originally supposed to be together with the next one, but I realized they were insanely long, so I split it into two.