Unsympathetic Magic - Laura Resnick [70]
“What is that?” I asked Biko, craning my neck and pointing up to it.
“The old watchtower,” he said. “The last one left in New York. It’s so old, it’s been obsolete for more than a century.”
“Watchtower for what?” I asked.
“Fire,” said Biko. “In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, Harlem was mostly farm country—can you picture that? In those days, they had tall watchtowers around New York, like this one. Someone would be posted at the top of the tower to keep an eye out for a fire starting. When he saw one, he’d alert people by ringing the big bell that hung below him in the tower. After the switchover to fire alarm boxes, the towers went out of use and mostly got torn down. This is the only one still standing.” After a moment, he added, “Mr. Livingston told me that. He was talking about restoring it one day, but the foundation always had so many other projects it wanted to do first.”
“Out of use for more than a century,” I mused. “It must be falling apart by now.”
“Yeah, I think it’s in pretty bad condition.” Biko chuckled and added, “If you go up there in the daytime, you’ll see that it looks like the world’s best jungle gym. When I was little, I always wanted to climb on it. But my mom told me she’d skin me alive if I ever went anywhere near it. Too dangerous. And by the time I was old enough to come to the park without Mom or Puma, I guess I just wasn’t stupid enough to try it. It always looked to me like the spiral staircase would collapse, or the iron bars would fall off, or that big bell would tumble down on my head.”
“Hmm.” Max nodded.
After a moment, we all turned by silent consent and walked out of the park, disappointed not to have learned anything new from this outing. My feet were killing me, and I was so tired that I didn’t think I could make it all the way to the subway. Max must have noticed my drooping shoulders and weary pace.
“I must take Esther home,” he said to Biko. “I should have done so well before now.”
I was about to protest that Max didn’t need to escort me, but then I remembered that I didn’t have my subway card, money for a cab, or the keys to my door.
“But I think, Biko,” Max continued, “that you, Nelli, and I should rendezvous later and go hunting by night for baka and zombies.”
A man and woman who’d been in the process of passing us on the sidewalk paused and gave us a hard stare. Whether it was because of what Max had just said, or because of my outfit . . . Well, I supposed that either reason would have been sufficient for their sudden decision to cross the street and continue their walk well away from us.
“Who’s Nelli? Oh! Your dog, right?” Biko shook his head. “Dr. Zadok, after what those baka did to my dog—”
“Nelli is very large, and combating creatures such as the baka is her life’s work,” Max said. “Although I am reluctant to put her in harm’s way, knowing now how ruthless the baka can be when facing a canine opponent, I feel that it would frustrate her—even insult her—to omit Nelli from our expedition. It would also be wise of us to recruit her to this endeavor, since she is well-equipped for detecting mystical adversaries.”
There was a brief pause while Biko translated this in his head, and then he agreed with Max’s proposal. Since the baka had so far been encountered in the vicinity of the park, the two men agreed to meet at the foundation later to commence their hunt. After we all exchanged phone numbers, Biko went home, and Max escorted me to Malcolm X Boulevard, where we caught a cab.
Fortunately,