The City of the Broken (Prince of the Broken) (5 page)

As the garden fades behind me and the City emerges I see dark figures in this shado
w world rushing about to and fro. I walk into the chaotically ordered city, a black sea with a rebellious purple or grey streak of life here or there. Eyes blank and longing, downward and heart wrenched. Businessmen with an ambition of power with the blackest eyes of all. A child playing with a skipping rope ,another playing hopscotch aimlessly hitting each number as if it didn’t matter either way. Tears were a common music, like the fire engine of New York. A loveless teen graffiti’s broken hearts onto the concrete wall, her eyes thick with kohl and jet mascara. The buildings border the streets like tombs. The corpses within pretend to be alive, but know perfectly well that they are fooling no one, not even themselves.

I
ask the friendliest looking face I can find the direction to the Secret Club. She sits on a park bench smoking heavily on her cigarette, I sit next to her.

“
Excuse me, do you know the direction of The Royal Club of the Broken?” I ask and for a moment I think I see a glimmer of terror in her eyes.

“
What you be wanting that place for then Missy?” Her voice does not match her face. She looks graceful and eloquent, her speech is coarse and throaty, perhaps from over-smoking of cigarettes.

“
I’m meeting someone there” I say not wishing to divulge that I’m accompanying the Prince there.

“
Take a right down that road, opposite The Raven nightclub. You will see it, showy with a gold sign” she says cautiously.

“
Thank you” I say gratefully

She takes a deep breathe befor
e adding “But I’d warn you about that place Missy. Its all elusive an’ all. They don’t like the likes of you and me using it as a meeting place. Some say they make the law of the land unofficially behind them doors”

“
Really?” I ask intrigued.

“
Aye, I can tell you aint local. Too young to remember this city in its golden day. Twas  proper town then, normal, cheerful with colour. Had its ups and downs like any old place but we had a good community, looked out for others. T’aint like that now-all changed since his missus died” she says with disdain.

“
The King?” I ask knowing the answer already.

“
Aye, him. Never liked him when she was alive but she kept him sane, you know, level headed. Man’s lost  the plot. Wont even listen to his own son, not that he’s much better mind. He got the same old beliefs as his father, that lad.”

“
Look, thanks for the directions but I really must be going or I’ll be late .You’ve been really helpful,” I say, not wanting to hear her talk of Calix this way.

“
Yeah, yeah Missy, you’ve ad enough. I get the picture. Don’t think I be joking when I tell ya to keep away from that part of town though. It aint just the club. Ravens just as bad, dodgy characters in there”

“
Thanks I say” running as I know Ill be late now.

So the RCB is the meeting p
lace of the rich and powerful of this city. That figures since Calix and the King will be there. Perhaps he wants to see a friendly face amongst the professional pessimists and that’s why he has invited me.

As I walk further on, I see that there is a para
de in the town. On the lead float there is a girl wearing a lace dress. Her hair is long and platinum, although it could be silver so light. She’s singing:

“
To be alive, or to die. To feel dead, while you’re still living. Blackest night, brightest light. To feel dead while you’re still living”.

I wonder if she
’s famous. There’s a huge crowd gathered around the float. Jumping and dancing as in slow motion, neither happy nor sad. In a daze or a trance. Always and forever citizens of The City of the Broken.

S
uddenly I hear trumpets and there is a riot. I see a huge flash and a mass of yellow crowding the black hole of people. It’s The Smiley’s,  here to protest in the public view. There are a lot of cameras and a news reporter-deadpan, professional, dressed in his sharp black suit. I look at the TV’s in the shop window seeing that The Smiley’s have been labelled. ‘Irrelevant troublemakers disrupt Royal concert” reads the headline.

I hear their chant
‘Bring happiness, colour and laughter back to the Kingdom. Red, yellow, pink, blue .Replace the clouds with a rainbow. ”

Looking at the TV screen, I see the news reporter shaking his head and the words
‘Rebels sing crazy anthem, upset the singer Annabelle’ and I see the blonde star who was just on the float looking shocked ,surrounded by security. The so-called rebels, who as far as I can see have only protested peacefully are being dragged off by the police when I walk past the black column that signals I’m entering the upmarket part of the city .I’m looking forward to seeing Calix after all this. As kind and intelligent as Calix  is, I’m often surprised at his loyalty to the way his father rules the kingdom. He genuinely seems to believe in the concept of ‘broken’. He only met me because he wanted to recruit me as a citizen. The idea makes me smile. I always feel like a weirdo when I smile or even feel happy in this city. It seems to be an unwritten code that you have to look depressed. Maybe its a law? I’ll certainly have to look into this.

I see it, a hidden cove,
a treasure trove. In this part of town, atmosphere is different. There it is, The Royal Club of the Broken HQ. And directly opposite, The Raven, a nightclub that looks like a pirates drinking den. I wonder if Calix ever comes here with his approved-of-by-daddy acquaintances. As I approach TRCB I see there is no one standing by the door to accept invitations. I knock the polished mahogany wood several times. Seconds later, it opens. I’m greeted by a well dressed yet sinister looking man who for whatever reason makes me feel like he’s armed or trained in some martial art or both.

“
What can I do for you?” he snaps at me.

“
Um Hi, I’m here for the meeting. I have an invitation” and I hold it out for him to read. He looks at it as if disgusted that I could possibly be invited to such an elite club. After what seems like an age of him staring unconvinced at my perfectly genuine invite, he looks back at me

“
And who exactly gave you this invitation young eh lady” he says and I’m shocked by his offensive tone.

“
His Royal Highness Prince Calix gave it to me personally, saying that he would greatly appreciate my support”.

“
Hmm…”he looks down at the invitation again, as if testing what I’ve said with the invite in his hands.

“
Very well Miss, you may follow me“. He holds the door open, never taking his eyes off me and I step in.

“
Thank you very much” I say trying to be polite.

Looking around, I see that the room is mahogany and dark green. Like a London cigar and brandy Gentleman
’s club. There is a bar with a smartly dressed  bar tender but there isn’t anyone else around. They’re all in the meeting which late for, I presume.

“
Which way to the Royal meeting?” I enquire of the bar tender who doesn’t seem to think so loftily of himself as the doorman.

“
Just through these double doors, down the hall, on the left” he replies, helpfully.

“
Thank you” I smile at him as I walk swiftly down the corridor.

This place is elegant and understated. As I turn left I see only one door where the meet
ing is must be taking place. Upon opening the door ,I step into the room which is spacious and light, a sort assembly room, with a serious atmosphere. Everyone looks at me and I mouth an apology as I spy an empty chair and edge towards it. The King is on stage making a speech, I’m sure he wont think highly of my being late. It will only give him another reason to dislike me. The second thing that occurs to me is that all of the audience is male except me. Perhaps this is a gentleman’s club? Why didn’t Calix tell me? Perhaps
that’s
why the doorman looked at me like I was not meant to be at the club. I cant see Calix among the audience or on stage. Perhaps he’s backstage, he did say he was participating in this presentation.

Suddenly I hear the King announce
‘and my son and successor Prince Calix of the City of the Broken’ and Calix steps out on stage, to an applause and standing ovation which I gladly participate in.

“
Thank you all. My father and I are both very grateful you could be here tonight.”

He is dif
ferent before an audience. He’s more dignified and aloof. A prince, a professional.  Behind Calix and the King, I observe two bodyguards who are armed. I wonder why they feel them to be necessary.

“
We have many plans to make The City of the Broken an even more spectacular place for its citizens, there’s a new school of the Broken which will replace the old school. Our designer, the finest in all the city, Mr Jack Lipson,” he points and nods to elaborately dressed man who is sitting in the front row, “has created a splendid new uniform for all of the children to wear.”

Mr. Lipson rises from his seat and walks onstage carrying one of the uniforms.

“Good evening citizens of the Broken, I have worked tirelessly, never stopping until perfection was achieved”.

Mr
Lipson talks like a president addressing his people with great passion .

“
This is not just any school uniform. When His Royal Highness requested I design a new look for the children of this city, I could scarcely say no. On looking at the old uniform I instantly knew that my design must reflect the modern child. The old look was the old city, but we are very different now-The uniform needed to be versatile, practical. Allowing every child to mould to the school and yet retain his or her individuality”.

I c
an see the audience growing bored with Jack Lipson’s speech and the King doesn’t kook impressed by his babbling on about his design. Calix though, listens intently, with great curiosity. He’s always so polite.

“
Thus it was born. The design will live on for a century or longer,  as it has been created to fit the child of today and of tomorrow. Our children’s children will all wear this wonderful style. An everlasting glove, a symbol of this great city.”

He holds up the outfit which is plain black, with a pu
rple embroidered B. Unremarkable to say the least. A sweatshirt with black trousers or a black skirt. A moderate applause arises from the audience, and  Mr. Lipson smiles as if he is accepting a noble peace prize.

The King walks over looking annoyed.

“Thank you Mr. Lipson” he says ushering the overly enthusiastic designer back to his seat.

“
The school and the uniform are just one of my plans for the city. At present the fact there is an upper and lower school does not instil the singular broken mindset but acts as a separation between the older and younger generation. The rioting of the gangs must be stopped. These individuals make a fool of our city and go against everything we stand for.”

The Kings voice rises to a level of anger as he speaks of the riots,
which I presume to mean The Smiley’s and a very loud applause arises from the audience.

“
You may have heard today of the disturbance at the parade. This gang dressed in their rebellious yellow bring shame to the city”.

A member of the audience shouts
“They must be stopped! Get them imprisoned!”

“
Yes, I quite agree” say the King.

“
Laws are being passed as we speak, banning the colour yellow and anything but black and dark purple. It may sound unnecessary as I know a good many people who are fond of grey as well but I think you’ll find that without such laws, chaos will arise”.

This is the first time I
’ve viewed the king as a dictator. This man is insane.

“
So you see, this gang, who I believe call themselves
Smiley’s
, will be arrested for their antics if they dare go public with their diabolical schemes again”

The king gets a roaring applause and  standing ovation from the audience who are all dressed in black.

“I have also taken it upon myself to ban any form of cheerful music, with only melancholic, or music that reflects the tone of our city being legal”.

Even Calix looks shocked at this, as if he had no idea his father had planned this. I don
’t blame him, banning cheerful music?  Even some of the audience appear horrified, although they stand and clap nonetheless.

“
What about Annabelle? My daughter loves her music” asks a man shyly from the back of the gathering.

“
Annabelle is still legal as she plays the exact type of music that personifies the city.”

Thinking back to the parade earlier today, I
remember Annabelle’s music as depressing and tormented. I would never want to listen to someone like that. This man tries to take choice away.

“
It’s the only way we can pass our values successfully on to the younger children”, he says with an arrogant defiance.