Lucretia and the Kroons

7

Flushing Meadows Park, the real one, was enormous, one and a half times the size of Manhattan’s Central Park, and the one here—inside 6D! — seemed even larger. Loochie crossed the second meadow with a quickness that surprised even her. Her socks were soaked from the light dew in the grass. When the Kroons broke through the tree line behind her they looked like specks in the distance. She was that far from them already. But there was more ground to cover before she reached the Unisphere.

After the meadow she reached a concrete path with benches. The concrete was cracked and uneven. The benches were broken apart, splintered pieces of wood jutting out in all directions, as if the Incredible Hulk had come through and smashed each one. Loochie didn’t hesitate. She just kept sprinting.

As she closed the distance between her and the stainless steel Unisphere, she saw the one here wasn’t exactly the same as the globe in Flushing Meadows. In that park the Unisphere sat upright, in the same position as the world, tilted on its real axis. But here in 6D she could see the silver globe hung at a precarious angle. Instead of being perched up on its stand, tilting slightly but secure, this one teetered so far over it looked like one good shove would send it rolling away.

Then the terrible grunting and barking seemed close again. Loochie looked back, her pace slowing so she wouldn’t trip on the uneven ground. The Kroons had reached the concrete. All of them were there. Pit, Lefty, the Twins. They were at the line between the meadow and the concrete path but they’d stopped. All four of them had the same narrow, long builds. She would’ve guessed they were brothers even if Louis hadn’t told her earlier. They looked like four demons. Their decaying jeans and T-shirts sagged on their thin bodies. From a distance this made it look like they were shedding their skins. Again Loochie thought of Sunny. How had she survived them? How had she escaped? Maybe she didn’t. Again, Loochie brushed the thought away. The four males stood still and watched her patiently. What were they waiting for? She kept running. She wasn’t going to wait around to find out. Straight ahead to the Unisphere, hoping and praying to find her friend there.

The Kroons barked again, all together now, and Loochie looked over her shoulder. The last of the Kroons, the one without legs, had finally reached his brothers. The Twins reached down to lift him. What happened next, she almost couldn’t believe. The Twins heaved him backward and then chucked him into the air. They threw him at her. And as he tumbled through the air — could it be possible? — was the legless Kroon smiling? Yes. He was. He was. Hunting her. Hurting her. To them this was just a game. Having fun. Right then they seemed like boys at play.

At least until the legless one, Chuck, landed hard on the concrete. He slammed into the ground and the momentum turned him over twice. As he rolled he made a weird choking noise. It took a second for Loochie to realize he was laughing. And when he stopped Loochie had to stop, too. They’d thrown him so hard, so far, that he’d landed ahead of her on the path. Blocking her straight run to the Unisphere. Chuck was on his belly. He planted his two arms and raised his head and snarled at her like a guard dog. And now the other Kroons came screaming up the path behind her. They had her at both ends.

Luckily, Loochie knew this park. Knew what she would find just west of here, if it was indeed a twisted version of Flushing Meadows. The Playground for All Children. It had swings and slides and little tunnels and bridges for kids to walk across. Plenty of spaces for a girl like her to sneak through, hide under, disappear. Louis used to push her in the swings back when she was small. Loochie broke left, going off the path, headed toward the playground. She hoped it would be there.

The Playground for All Children was straight ahead. She even felt grateful to see the black fencing that surrounded the grounds. The tops of the fence were sharp, pointed. She made it to the front gates. They were open but when she tried to pull them shut behind her she couldn’t manage it. Each gate hung at awkward angles and she saw that they were broken, their hinges warped. Shutting the gates wasn’t going to happen. She just had to keep going. Disappear among the tunnels and slides. As she entered the playground she passed the green plaque that hung on the side of every New York City park. A familiar site, the name of each park engraved in clear lettering. She barely looked at the words, ran three steps past it before she caught herself. Something was wrong. Something was off about the sign. Despite the fear she felt, the knowledge that the Kroons were closing in, she still turned back to read it. She read the four words, out loud.

“Playground of Lost Children,” she whispered.

She didn’t want to go in, but what choice did she have?