The two years passed and the portals opened as advertised. One bank of portals opened here, in Central Park. LA got a set, too, and I think Ayres Rock got a set for sentimental reasons.
People left in a steady, orderly stream. The outliers came to the city first and then when the countryside was depopulated, like a snake eating its tail the city folk took their turn and walked through. That’s why this place looks as good as it does. The people of New York City tidied up one last time, turned out the lights, and left.
And Jesus. He left, too. In fact he was the first to go through. He was showing us all that it was safe.
The missionary frenzy hit its peak when the portals opened. Once people had a place to go, it steadily died down. It got much safer for me. Not perfectly safe, mind you. There were still pictures to watch out for. Pictures were everywhere! And the portals. If a person sees a portal, it’s like seeing Jesus; they will believe.
And that’s my story. When everyone had gone I came to town. Like I said earlier. There’s only this … the portal … and everywhere else.
So … why am I here? Well … I want my free will. I really want it. But … I’m lonely, too. Really lonely. Each day, I find I’m asking myself: “Is having your free will really worth this? This being The Only Living Boy in New York?”
So … I’ve devised a contraption. It’s a completely enclosed little electric car with blackened windows and a radar/sonar/GPS system for navigating. I’ve tried it out driving up and down streets here. It works! With it, I can drive into the portal and not see it! In case the car won’t go through, I’ll be wearing a wetsuit lined with tin-foil, diver tanks, and a blackened mask. I’ll get out and walk through. Whatever’s on the other side, I’ll be ready! And … I’ll still have my free will!
I’m ready … but I know it isn’t going to work. When I come out, if I come out … I’ll be a believer. It’s the system.
So … now I’m waiting. I’m waiting for me to decide that free will isn’t such a big deal. That’s why I go to the park each day at sunset.
I go.
I check.
Am I ready?
So far, I haven’t been. But now that I’ve told you my life’s story. … I may be.
The man lies over in the couch, brings his feet up. He’s ready to sleep. He doesn’t say good-bye in any way. Instead, as he settles in, he sings quietly.
I get the news I need on the weather report.
Ah, I can gather all the news I need on the weather report.
Hey, hey, I’ve got nothing to do today but smile.
Doe-n-doe-da-n-da-da-n-da-da here I am
The only living boy in New York.
The End