Of Mice and Metropolis

Alice and Sam grew up together in Higbee, Missouri, a tiny town that was thought to be quite idyllic by those who happened upon it. But Alice and Sam, having grown up there, found it rather boring. Most afternoons, they would walk the two miles or so home from school dreaming of what they might do when they finally moved to the big city. Saint Louis was only 152 miles east of Higbee, but it might as well have been France for how often they got to see it. In just a handful of years, after they had both gotten their associate degrees from Moberly Area Community College, they would have just enough saved up to rent an apartment somewhere in view of the city’s famous arch. Their musings ranged from the delicious food they would eat to the concerts they would attend to the clothes they would be photographed wearing.

All of those afternoons spent dreaming were why Alice, after having moved into her brand new apartment in Central West End—right next to Forest Park!—was so excited to have Sam come for a visit. It had been a few years since they last talked about anything truly important, but she knew Sam must be longing for a weekend away from Higbee.

“Dad’s gonna pay the kid next door, Henry, to help him out while I’m away,” Sam said through the phone. “He can’t get around the farm so well on his own anymore, but Henry wanted the cash, so.”

“Well then it’s a win-win-win situation!” Alice replied.

Saturday came, and Sam’s dark blue, full-size pick-up truck shimmied awkwardly into a spot on the street outside Alice’s apartment. She ran out and greeted him with a hug. After some cursory catching up in the elevator to her fifth-floor loft, she ushered her friend into her freshly cleaned abode, then offered him a bright red raspberry fruit tart and a glass of fine white wine, which he accepted without hesitation. Alice told Sam all about the French bakery at the corner where she had bought the tarts and how she liked to walk there every morning for a coffee and a treat. Sam thought this sounded wonderful, although he wasn’t so impressed by the raspberries—they weren’t nearly as sweet as the wild ones he liked to pluck from the brambles back in Higbee.

They went for an afternoon stroll around the neighborhood so Alice could show Sam all the fun shops and restaurants, the colorful outdoor murals, and the bustle of people. In one boutique, Alice held up a pitcher with flowers painted on the handle.

“Wouldn’t this be pretty by my kitchen window?” she wondered. Sam took the pitcher from her and inspected it. It appeared to be made of pinewood, but it wasn’t quite heavy enough. Using his thumbnail, Sam made a tiny scratch on the bottom of the pitcher, right next to the price tag that read “$49.99.” The fake wood paint came right off, revealing the cheap plastic underneath.

“It would be pretty!” he agreed, but he couldn’t help thinking that his pitcher at home, the large, solid oak pitcher his grandmother made years ago with little vines carved up the side, would be prettier.

After walking around for another hour or two, Alice’s and Sam’s tummies started to grumble. “Are you ready for our fancy city dinner?” Alice asked, eagerly.

They took the metro to a steakhouse downtown called Fireside Grille. Sam insisted on paying the bill, since Alice had been so kind to let him visit her home. But when he saw the prices on the menu, he wished they had gone somewhere a little less fancy. Seventy dollars for a steak? Why, Sam could get a steak just as scrumptious from Todd, his neighbor, who raised cows a few miles down the road from his own farm, and he wouldn’t even be charged for it. The salad was tasty, but the beets didn’t have quite the same delectable earthiness as the ones from his garden at home. Still, the food was delicious, and he was thankful for the time to talk with his friend.

After dinner, they walked back to the metro stop to catch their train home. They were just turning the corner on Delancey street when they heard shouting from a nearby alleyway. At least three people were very angry—about what, they couldn’t tell. The shouting got louder and louder until—BANG! A single shot rang out through the streets, the sound bouncing off buildings and windows and fire hydrants. Startled, Alice and Sam covered their ears—but it was the silence that followed, that ominous silence, that truly frightened them.

A young man ran out of the alley and whizzed past Sam and Alice like a blur, taking off at full speed down the misty street. Alarmed at the thought of who might be following him, they ran the rest of the way to the metro stop and jumped onto the platform just as the train was arriving.

Breathing heavily, they both felt relief with the thrust of the train’s departure. Alice laughed, exhilarated. “That was crazy!” she whispered, smiling. Sam smiled back at her and agreed—it was crazy. Back in Higbee, the worst anyone would do when they had a fight was remove the other from that year’s Christmas card list. (This was the ultimate snub.) In Higbee, everyone relied on each other, so they had to work out their differences. And although the guns in Higbee outnumbered the people, they were only used on deer, turkeys, and the occasional soda can. Sam worried about Alice living here, worried she might find herself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Their heartbeats back to normal, the friends rode the elevator back up to Alice’s stylish, modern apartment. They shared the rest of the wine Alice had opened and recounted the events from the day. Alice retreated to her bedroom, and Sam fell asleep on the plush green sofa, the city lights still beaming through the window.

On Sunday morning, Sam and Alice woke to the sound of jackhammers at a construction site across the street. After getting dressed and placing his toothbrush and yesterday’s outfit gently in his backpack, Sam headed out with Alice to the French bakery on the corner she had told him all about. They both sat and enjoyed their coffee and pastries.

“I had a lovely time,” Sam said to Alice.

“Thank you so much for coming!” She replied. Then, excitedly and hesitantly, she asked:

“When are you going to move to the city?”

to which Sam answered,

“I’d love to visit again someday, but Higbee is my home.”

The friends smiled at one another and parted ways.