It was 8:07 a.m., Sunday. We'd tried to Dawg Find Melody early, but her phone was off or she'd gone Phantom, so we caught the A Train. My dad came with us and jumped off near the Empire State. It gets struck by lightning a hundred times a year and Dad figured he could learn something for his lightning farm back home.
The hit-count on The Hive teaser was off the hook – up to forty-something-thousand overnight. We had hits from Iceland, Greece, Fiji and Argentina. I couldn't believe that people wanted to watch something that didn't actually say anything. They didn't even know about Perpetual.
I sat there playing with the video functions on my phone. I was determined to shoot something that day at The Hive even though Paul had other ideas.
'What if we want to join them, rather than cash in on them?' Paul asked.
'Okay, just say something,' I said, pointing my phone at him. 'I want to test the audio.'
'Last stop, Inwood–207th Street,' came the announcement over crusty speakers.
As I led the way up through Inwood Hill Park the clouds seemed to crowd in not far above the tops of the trees. Paul stopped to read a plaque.
'Hey, says here that this was the main Manhattan Indian village and that some dude bought the island from the Native Americans for a bunch of trinkets and beads right here on this spot.'
'Sounds like a good deal,' I said sarcastically.
'For who?' he asked.
When we reached the view at the top of the hill we stood for a minute and got our breath. It was Huck Finn country up there, or like the quiet parts in the hills around Kings Bay. The river had thick fog hanging over it. I couldn't even see the Jersey shore. We charged on downhill and, pretty soon, the boatshed came into view. I put a hand out to slow Paul and I scanned to see if there was anyone around before we continued down the hill.
I pulled the branches off two canoes and started dragging them to the shoreline. I was looking all around, along the waterfront and back up the hill when I saw a flicker of red coming through the trees and down the track.
'Quick,' I said, grabbing Paul, pulling him by the jumper up past the boatshed and behind some scraggly bushes on the waterfront. We sat there and watched. I waited for the person to jog right past but they didn't. It was a tall guy with a checked shirt, a red vest, a shaved head and a Yankees cap slightly off-centre.
'That's Joe Gatt,' I said to Paul, heart thumping.
Gatt made it to the canoes and saw they were uncovered. He looked around, not happy. I pushed Paul's head lower.
'His tats are –'
'Ssssshhh,' I whispered.
Joe dragged one canoe up the bank, covering it up, then he jumped into the other. As he did, Paul's phone rang. Loud. Joe looked up. The ring went on and on as Paul wrestled it out of his pocket, my heart beating harder with every verse. When he finally had the phone out, rather than turn it off like any normal human, he answered it!
'Hey Mum,' he whispered.
I couldn't believe this guy.
'No, I'm in a library. Can I call you back later?'
A pause while he listened.
'Just doing some research,' he said and waited. I looked at him like I was ready to kill him.
'Yeah, we had eggs and stuff at the hotel.'
I poked my fingers into my eyes, not believing what I was hearing.
'I have to go, Mum. Bye. Librarian's coming,' he said, and hung up.
I peered out through the undergrowth. Gatt was gone.
I gave Paul a dead arm and took my first breath for what felt like about four minutes.
'Owwwww. Sorry,' he said, grabbing his arm. 'But she scares me more than he does. What do we do now?'
'We wait a minute and then we go in.'
'Maybe we shouldn't,' he said.
'Don't be a loser. I promise there are no peanuts in there.'
'The guy was a hip-hop promoter and his biceps are thicker than my legs,' Paul said. 'Maybe we should ask before we film in there? Like we should have asked at the half-pipe.'
I didn't respond. I knew he was right, but I could hardly see Melody and Gatt throwing open their doors to us if they knew we were going to shoot. And we had a deadline.
We waited for five minutes, jumped a canoe, hit the dock and I gave 'the knock'.