CHARLOTTE

She was thirsty. She got out from the train at Covent Garden Station and walked right away to the toilet facilities to refill her water bottle. It took her 20 minutes to get there from her home in Hammersmith. Winter holidays had just started and the city was decorated with dazzling light installations. Covent Garden streets were all about Christmas and all the stores showed off their seasonal window displays. 

On her way to the British Museum, she stopped by her favorite spot in the neighbourhood, The Astrology Shop, a blue and mysterious store of magic. She looked through the window and saw books, quartz, candles, divination cards, pendulums, and essential oils all around. She was about to enter when an old man approached her. He was riding a bicycle cart full of second hand books with a huge sign hanging that said: Get a book. Free yourself.

-Looking for something in particular? he asked.

Charlotte looked confused. The old man didn’t look homeless but he didn’t seem to have somewhere to go either. 

-Take a look – he offered while bringing the cart closer to where Charlotte was standing.

 She smiled and started going through the titles that were on top. As it happens when it comes to used booksellers, the variety of genres was broad. It went from academic law school texts, quantum physics to poetry, cheap best-selling novels, old classics and children’s books. 

As if he could read Charlotte’s mind, he said:

-It takes all kinds to make the world go round, right? You might want to see the ones that are inside this special box.

And while he moved all the books that were on top he grabbed a medium size box with a blue label around. He opened the box and put it right in front of Charlotte. There were many books that called her attention but there was one that struck her. «The War of Orion«, she read out loud. 

-Why are you laughing? – Charlotte asked. 

-I am not laughing at you young lady, I am smiling. And I smile because I have no doubt that this is the book you need- he said. 

Charlotte kept investigating the mysterious box with excitement. She stopped her search when she saw a huge book at the bottom, which looked more like an antique manuscript than a book. It didn’t have a title on the cover. 

-What is this? She asked impulsively. 

-Oh no. This is not for sale- the old man said. 

He became serious all of a sudden and started putting all the books back together inside the box. Then he added:

-Let’s say it is much more than just a book. But that’s all I can share with you today. Here -he said while putting the book on Charlotte’s hands – you can have The War of Orion for free. And if you excuse me, there is somewhere I need to go.

The old man left riding his bicycle cart and signing Christmas songs. Charlotte put the book inside her bag and continued on her way to the museum with a sense of confusion.

When she came out of the exhibition, she felt excessively thirsty again. Once she got back to the station, she refilled her water bottle. And when she finally made it to the platform, the train was just departing. A sign informed that the next train was coming in six minutes so she sat on a close bench. 

Right when she opened her new book, a train arrived way before the estimated arrival time. Charlotte was so immersed in her reading that she entered the train without paying attention to the fact that it was completely empty. No one else made it on board. The doors closed and the train started moving gently. 

The stations went by and while Charlotte tried hard to keep her eyes on the old yellow pages of her new book, she started to fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once. When she woke up, the train was still and the doors were open. The station was empty. And she couldn’t recognize where she was at. She looked for a sign to understand the name of the station. But there was nothing there. No map. No signs at all. Only empty walls with white tiles. Her phone had no service either. She walked to the pilot cabin to check if she could ask for help but it was also empty. Right when she was getting to the end of the platform, she saw a wide arch followed by marble stairs that went down. It was the only way out. She walked down in silence and reached a small foyer with an antique elevator with huge wooden doors carved with perfect flowers and details. But the elevator had no button to push. Suddenly, the lights inside went on. And the door opened. It was huge. Velvet sofas. A bronze standing lamp. An antique desk. Books. Plants. It looked more like a parliament office than an elevator. She walked in and the door closed. 

The elevator started going down but there was nowhere to check where it was going. Charlotte sat down on the sofa and began to cry.  She couldn’t truly understand her feelings. She was scared and anxious, but at the same time she knew deep inside that everything was alright. She was also worried about her parents that were probably trying to reach her out but her phone was not working. Her father had told her he could pick her up at the museum once she was done, but she told him she was sixteen years old and that she could make her way back home by herself. And now she doubted. She was sitting on a red velvet sofa inside a bizarre elevator by herself in a station that she hadn’t seen in her entire life. She tried to relax and focus on her breath. Then she fell asleep once again.

She woke up when the doors of the elevator opened and a bright light came right from outside not letting her see clearly.