IT BEGAN IN ALBANY

The criminal sat in his hideout holding the remote to the doomsday device that he had placed atop the capitol building in Albany, New York. He waited for the police sergeant.

***

The police sergeant sat at his desk at home. He was scheduled to arrive at the criminal’s hideout momentarily, but his departure had been delayed by an idea for a poem.

***

The damsel sat atop the capitol building, strapped to the doomsday device for effect. She looked out over the city and, cracking her knuckles through her white silk gloves, wondered why it had to be Albany, New York.

***

The police sergeant finished his poem. It set out attempting to justify existence, failed at its attempt, and, in failing, succeeded. It was called “How I Lose” and successfully used a metaphor that compared the inevitable march towards death to gardening, a feat considered impressive in most literary circles, or so the sergeant was told by his neighbor, who happened to be a literary agent.

***

The criminal was upset with the sergeant’s lateness. He grew bored. There were many cabinets in the hideout, but the criminal, checking them one at a time, found only a chess set. Unfamiliar with the game, he read the rules, set up the pieces and began to play against himself.

***

The damsel received an unprecedented two superlatives in high school – most imaginative and most helplessly beautiful. Since the latter had caused her to be chosen as the damsel in the current situation, she decided to use the former to occupy her time.

***

The sergeant went with his neighbor to the literary agency. His neighbor asked him how many poems he could write before the end of the day. The sergeant thought twenty-seven. The agent gave him a notepad and a pen.

***

The damsel analyzed the city in front of her. She decided what she liked and what she did not like. Then she began to plan her own city. It would be where Minneapolis was if Minneapolis wasn’t there.

***

The criminal rapidly increased his chess ability. He began setting up one side with a clear advantage so that he might try to beat it with the other. He played without a queen. He played with only a king and a pawn. Each time, the disadvantaged side won with ease.

***

The police sergeant finished his book of poems in two and a half days. It debuted to rave reviews. He went on tour, reading at coffee houses and bookstores. He received honorary degrees. During an interview, a prominent columnist in Kansas City, Missouri asked him if, with his supreme grasp of the conceptual, he would ever consider working in the visual arts.

***

The damsel decided that, in her city, all of the buildings would be tall and cylindrical. On the roof of each would be a bonfire pit to host community gatherings. She knew that, with such architecture, the metropolis would inevitably gain the nickname of Cigarette City.

***

The criminal left his hideout with the remote to the doomsday device in his hand. He found the nearest chess tournament, registered and swiftly defeated all of his opponents. The tournament officials placed him under investigation for cheating. He could not receive his trophy or his prize money for quite some time. The criminal only considered this a testament to his colossal skill.

***

The police sergeant decided on installation art as his genre. He exhibited his first piece in a gallery in Cleveland, Ohio. It appeared to be a crime scene surrounded by caution tape. The chalk outline of a body had been drawn on the ground. In the center of a room stood a mannequin wearing a rainbow-colored clown wig and red plush clown nose. Those in attendance were invited to put on the wig and the nose as they walked around the scene. It was called “The Police Life.”

***

The damsel imagined herself as the beautiful mayor of Cigarette City. She imagined that all of the citizens would be upset that someone had strapped their beautiful mayor to a doomsday device atop of the capitol building in Albany, New York. They preferred her at home making new laws and being nice to look at. Local government officials held an important meeting around the bonfire on top of City Hall and made a decision: the beautiful mayor must be rescued. Only one man in Cigarette City could do the job. That man was the handsome pilot.

***

The criminal began appearing in the media. At first, he only graced the pages of chess-related periodicals, but after some time he began showing up in more mainstream publications. Photographers snapped pictures of him standing next to celebrities and supermodels. Readers always wondered what he was holding.

***

The police sergeant showed in several other galleries around the country. He filled the art and culture section of most newspapers. All praised him, except for the editor of the King City Gazette of King City, California, who found the police sergeant’s popularity to be shallow and faddish. The police sergeant worked his connections in both the justice system and art world. In mere hours, the Gazette disappeared from newsstands altogether.

***

The criminal signed an endorsement deal with a calculator company. He appeared on billboards sitting in a restaurant with an attractive woman. She looked worried while he calmly worked something out on a pocket-sized calculator. The caption said, even chess geniuses need help figuring out the tip sometimes. Next to the criminal’s plate sat the remote to the doomsday device. People just assumed it was another calculator.

***

The editor of the King City Gazette sought to avenge the death of his publication. He saddled up a horse, grabbed his six-shooter and began riding across the country.

***

The damsel imagined the handsome pilot as a well-built man with a giant, attractive chin. He wore a black leather jacket with white wool around the collar, a brown leather cap with straps dangling down, goggles on his forehead, and a red-and-white striped scarf. He lived in a blimp over Cigarette City. He accepted the mission to save the beautiful mayor without hesitation and parachuted down to the airstrip where his famous biplane waited in storage.

***

The police sergeant continued to wear his police uniform, even when attending gallery openings or lectures. Young artists took this as a statement and followed his lead. Classes at the country’s leading art schools appeared to be filled with crossing guards, firemen, meter maids, FBI agents and the occasional Indian chief.

***

The editor of the King City Gazette stopped at a hotel in Colby, Kansas. The hotel clerk asked him where he was going on a horse with a six-shooter. His response was of such a nature that the hotel clerk recorded it on a piece of scrap paper for inclusion in the cowboy novel he had been working on for the last half-decade.

***

The damsel sat wide-awake with her eyes closed. They were shut tight, causing creases to emanate out towards her nose, cheeks and eyebrows. Her white silk gloves were constant fists of concentration. She thought about nothing but the handsome pilot and Cigarette City. The gaps in her imagination became fewer and farther between. She imagined hard and she imagined all day.

***

The criminal stared at the remote to the doomsday device, perplexed. He remembered nothing about it except that he should not press the red button in the center.

***

The editor of the King City Gazette sat in a diner outside of Eerie, Pennsylvania. He waited for his lunch and read the newspaper. The cover story was about strange reports that were coming in from Minneapolis. Things looked different there. It was still a city, but the citizens didn’t feel like they could call it Minneapolis anymore.

***

The police sergeant spotted what he assumed to be a new gallery. Everyone going in and out wore police uniforms. He entered only to find it was the police station. The officers asked when he would be finished with his case. What case? the police sergeant wondered.

***

The beautiful mayor opened her eyes. She was finished imagining.

***

The criminal met with the chess club of an elite private school. They asked him questions about chess and supermodels. One boy asked him when he started playing. The criminal said it all began when he tried to destroy the world, or at least Albany, New York. This answer surprised everyone, even the criminal. He looked at the doomsday device in his hand and politely excused himself from the room.

***

The editor of the King City Gazette sat atop his horse in the street, waiting. He drew his pistol and fired at the police sergeant, who ran full speed up the street in the direction of the Capitol Building. He fired a second shot at the police sergeant. He fired three, four, five, six times at the police sergeant. Each shot missed. He was only a newspaper editor.

***

The criminal arrived in front of the Capitol Building at the same time as the police sergeant, coming from the opposite direction. The editor of the Gazette followed behind on a horse with a pen and paper in hand. The police sergeant reached for his badge. The criminal moved his finger dramatically towards the red button. The editor of the Gazette readied his pen to record the happenings. Nobody noticed the biplane as it flew into the sunset, a white silk hand reaching out to wave good-bye.

by Sean Adams