Cin City

Queens

Madness came. Two weeks' worth of madness. Luci and me played at New Haven, Jackson at Winston-Salem. Madness. No time for anything really. Luci missed the main draw for Flushing Meadows and had to play qualification games – her New Haven points not quite being enough to sneak her in. I tried for a wild card for the singles qualifiers at FM, a forlorn hope, but worth a go. And Luci and me earned our qualifier spot in the doubles. I didn't speak to Jackson, didn't hear from him either. A mad two weeks where there was no time for anything except tennis. Almost no time.

The earthquake news came right in the middle of it. I called home as soon as I heard. In fact, it was Luci that heard – or read it on her news feed. She broke me from my thoughts and I called home in a panic. My mother answered, I'd woken her and was so glad for it because I did know what time it was. They'd not felt a thing, sleeping through the drama from one hundred kilometres up the highway.

"There's been an earthquake."

"Where? In New Haven? Are you all right?"

"No," I said. "In Canterbury. In Christchurch."

I could have danced with joy. I could have taken the time to read the report myself, but the moment Luci combined the word earthquake with my province I had no time for prudence. I smiled at my mother's ignorance. So me and my mum talked as she lay next to my sound asleep father. It got called the Canterbury Earthquake or the Darfield Earthquake – depending on who you asked: only two people seriously hurt. Miraculous. I floated the rest of the day.

Luci and me took the train into New York. With New Haven so close it made no sense to fly – none, and I had prepared myself as best I could. When I saw the cityscape swing into view I welcomed it. The train led us out through Queens, and Luci suggested that I might get a glimpse of Flushing Meadows. I searched with my face pressed to the window as a child would have done. I saw miles and miles of rooftops stretching on forever, but not one glimpse of a stadium. The train swung us around for the city. When we dove underground Luci said we were nearly there. She warned me once again about how busy it would be.

"Just follow me, O.K?"

"O.K."

I followed close as we walked the dark platforms deep under Penn Station. When we made the concourse level there was heat and noise and people from wall to wall. Again I let Luci lead. I swear she loved the bustle. The more people the more jostling the happier she was. When we escalated our way to street level I stopped and stared at nameless people charging the sidewalk so fast that we'd have to sprint to join in. I saw traffic banked bumper to bumper and so thick I couldn't see the far side of the street. A policeman, or at least a man in uniform, he held a whistle to his mouth. There were street signs and yellow cabs. The most noticeable thing of all was that no one saw us. We were alone, me and Luci, completely alone.

I don't know if I said the words or if Luci read them on my face. Because as soon as we looked at each other we went straight for the escalator and de-escalated ourselves away from the hopelessness of the street.

"We will take the Lure," said Luci. It wasn't her first bite of the Big Apple – and I was grateful for that. I followed as she cleaved through the concourse level. She wore a smile so very wide.

"Lure?

"El eye are are," said Luci. "Lure."

This really wasn't the place to figure out... Oh. I saw an overhead sign: L.I.R.R. "We'll take the Lirr."

"Yes, that is what I said." And to be fair, it was what she said.

More darkness at platform level, darkness that now seemed so easy. An hour later we were checking into our hotel one block off Flushing Main Street. I hadn't expected Flushing to be a China Town. I hadn't let myself expect anything. I had my imagining of what my triumphant entry into New York would be like. I didn't care that it hadn't come to pass. I didn't care at all. Being here was so much more than enough. The substance outweighed the form, and that's the important thing.