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What is wrong with you, Alicia? How the holy hell are you having these thoughts?
Yeah, so much for good girl. It’s ironic that I was the one that named him Prince Sin. Because at this point, chastity and virtue are the farthest things from my mind.
I use the key Derrick made me to open the door. My mind is spinning - either from working myself into a frenzy or apprehension at the conversation I’m about to have - and I look around the foyer. The apartment is silent.
There is no Derrick.
Instead, Pressly walks out.
“Ah, madam,” he says with a smile. He’s always seemed nice and I think he likes me. I smile at him.
“Please follow me,” Pressly says as he turns me around and takes me to the elevators. I look at him quizzically on our way down.
A Rolls Royce Phantom is idling outside the building as we exit and Pressly signals the driver who gets out and lets me in.
Alicia: Where am I going?
I text Derrick, but there’s no response. The car is turning onto 57th street and I watch with fascination as we get on the West Side Highway and start heading downtown.
Fifteen minutes later I’m in Lower Manhattan and going uptown again up FDR Drive when all of a sudden, the car stops at the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge.
“You’ll have to walk the rest of the way, ma’am,” the driver tells me, turning around.
“Walk where?” I ask. I have no idea what’s going on and what game Derrick is playing at now.
The driver shrugs. “Alls the Prince said to me was bring you to the top section of the Brooklyn Bridge, ma’am,” he says. Poor guy. He’s as much in the dark as me. He shrugs at me and I get out. If Derrick wants an adventure, I guess I can play along.
I pull out my phone and see that Derrick hasn’t replied. I send him one last text.
Alicia: Y r u being so strange today???
It’s actually not that bad of a day at all - the weather is beautiful and I enjoy walking up to the bridge. I slow down when I see that there are signs that the bridge is closed due to work. No cars are going in or out. I wonder if Derrick still wants me to go on the bridge. Well, if the bridge was closed, he would have known. But still, should I turn back? I’m breaking rules if I proceed.
This is a big moment for me, because as I take a step onto the bridge past the orange signs that warn of road closure and to take the Manhattan or Williamsburg Bridges, I realize that I’m trusting Prince Sin to be responsible. If he turns out to have dropped the ball, I’m the one that’s placing myself in jeopardy by going along with his plans.
But he deserves the benefit of the doubt. If I’m willing to make enemies of the District Attorney, the least I can do is follow some game to walk across a deserted bridge.
It’s actually pretty neat - walking all by myself down the bridge. I mean, I can see the city behind me as a hive of activity, but the stark emptiness of the bridge takes me aback. It’s very surreal.
And that’s where the red carpet starts.
I swear to you - there’s a red carpet going down the center of the walkway of the Brooklyn Bridge.
It’s a nice, plush red carpet. The kind they roll out for royalty. Or the ones they use at the Oscars. I start walking on it.
Seriously, I’m not joking - this carpet stretches past the horizon. That’s because the bridge curves and I’m on the lower side, walking up.
My hearts beating at the sheer excitement of the intricacy to this mystery, when I stop.
There are now rose pets on the red carpet. White rose petals against a dark red velvet carpet. And on each side of the carpet are rows of cherry blossoms in giant white planters. They create a hallway of sorts, covering me in a beautiful world in the heart of the city.
I think about texting Derrick again, but clearly there is more to this mystery than what I’ve found.
The cherry blossom trees on each side of the red carpet get thicker and plusher as I advance farther through the bridge and by the time I’ve gotten a quarter of the way across the bridge it’s hard to see past them at the East River.
Soft classical music is playing from somewhere and all of a sudden, I notice strings of lights are surrounding the trunks of the cherry blossoms because they all light up.
Between the music, the rose petals, and the lit up trees - not to mention the red carpet I’m on - I’ve been transported to some other world. I’m no longer walking down the Brooklyn Bridge in New York City. I’m somewhere magical.
