Andy Folk
London

Froy chewed imaginary gum in unison with his classmates as the plane descended. He sat at the window seat, row 57 of the orange Virgin Airbus, his headphones plugged into the entertainment monitor in the seat in front of him, a panel that covers the ovular window beside him pulled down. His attention fixed to the screen on the back of the chair in front of him displaying one of his favorite cartoons. The rest of the class watched the same station. They shuffled their jaws in unison. Looking upon the rows of children, the stewardess thought about her childhood field trips to the National museums in London and the wild camaraderie of her class' unsupervised time at the back of the bus.

The class giggled in chorus to the cartoon.

Three hours after they had departed Atlanta the airbus landed at Heathrow. The pilot's voice interrupted the audio of program: "This is London Heathrow airport, please wait until the plane makes a complete stop, if you're staying aboard for Brussels, Paris, Berlin, and Moscow please remain seated-you'll get some time to stretch your legs momentarily. Have a safe and fun stay in the London area. Thank you for riding Virgin Global Commuter Airbus."

A few of Froy's classmates wiggled and jumped in their seats excited to touch ground. Froy worried he might be feeling early signs of the illness Ms. Kneally had warned the class of the previous day, jet lag. Being far too excited to sleep the night before contributed to this as well, but he was still wired with anticipation. For two weeks the class had studied Britain in preparation for their trip. Each student had received a digital study packet-40 pages of reading and activities on a single disc. It was homework formatted as a video game, and every chapter completed moved an animated Virgin Airbus a segment closer to the famous logo of London Now!, the world's most famous educational theme park. Upon completion the student received a printable ticket for transportation and admission.

Of course, the student's parents had paid $350 for the CD itself. The game was an incentive to get the kids interested in learning. Such ruses had become a trend amongst educators in recent years, popularized by once Secretary of Education Margaret Spelling's well-read 2010 essay "Textbooks with Rewards" that compared the education of children to the training of dogs.

During these two weeks of study Froy acquired quite an interest in Britain, fascinated by the particulars of an empire that fell off the face of theEarth. Coupled with his love of travelling and seeing new places, this interest left Froy feeling more excited about the day trip across the Atlantic then he had been for the first day of school, his birthday, or even Christmas.

The stewardess tapped Ms. Kneally on the shoulder as she grabbed her green leather bag from the overhead compartment. "Is this your first time taking a class to London Now!, Ma'am?"

The middle school teacher turned and smiled faintly at the Stewardess as her bag popped from place. "Oh yes, this is the first year we've been able to afford it thanks to the Virgin/London Now! See London! package."

The stewardess spread her smile farther. "Oh how exciting!" Ms. Kneally nodded, turning back to keep an eye on her class.

"When is your class scheduled to ride the Tower?" She asked again in the same pleasant tone.

"5:30, our flight back is at 7. Virgin worked it all out for us." She turned to the class as she rustled through her bag for a laser device. "Okay everyone in line!" She crowed, producing it from the bag and holding it over her head. "It's great that package exists so your students can see London, despite the condition it's in these days." she said in a mourner's tone.

Ms. Kneally rolled her eyes. "I don't think these kids care much about seeing London, not that there's much to see. They're in it for the rides."

The stewardess laughed away the teacher's cynicism, although she knew she was right. Even her job mandated positive attitude could not allow her to deny that she was the shepherd of an increasingly joyless flock, flying not because technology has gifted humanity wings but because such travel had been swallowed by the ever expanding element of routine. "Well, nothing helps you forget your troubles like a good ol' Roller Coaster!" She beamed.

The class marched out of the plane and through the airport single file, excitedly talking amongst the line about what would greet them inside the high-fenced grounds of the park they had just flown across the Atlantic to visit.

"Of course I'm excited about the Tower, but we need to make time for the White Water Thames Flume, and The Shrew!" Craig chimed. He was the portly boy who, alphabetically outranking Froy, always standing before him in line.

The boy in front of Craig replied with agreement, "If we don't ride The Shrew this trip's a failure."

"Oh we'll get on The Shrew first thing, but I hope I'm tall enough to ride The Ripper," Craig replied with legitimate worry. Froy and Craig were also the two shortest boys in class. Viewed from a profile they were a brief valley in the line-up. This anatomical and alphabetical coincidence had brought them together as de facto companions.

Trying to find a place to jump into the conversation Froy managed to say "I can't wait to see London." But during the sentence he was momentarily blinded by a flash of red, then blue. It was directed from a billboard for London Now! along the terminal wall. The park's name was in loud cursive across the bottom with a skyline of rides and attractions rising above it. Rising out of the boundaries of the billboard and emitting an attention-stealing laser was The Tower, the icon of the park, a 400-meter white tower topped with a British flag. A wheel-shaped floor is loaded from the base with a group of visitors, and makes one full rotation as it lifts them to the top where the group is able to view London. Subsequently it immediately drops back to the ground at speeds that would hurl the riders from their seats if not properly restrained. A classic amusement park ride done on a massive scale, upon its completion it was widely considered the world's most famous ride, as well as the most visited tourist attraction in Europe.

The following billboard read "SHUTTLES AHEAD" with an arrow facing the forward direction Ms. Kneally lead her class.

Having lost his train of thought Froy restarted, "Yeah let's go to The Shrew first, remember that scene from it we watched in the digital packet?" The two looked back at him with sick looks painted on their faces. "Don't remind me," Craig groaned.

Mrs. Kneally often spun around to make sure the line remained straight and contiguous. The line of ducklings marched straight out of the airport to the loading area for endless convoy of monorail-style shuttles to London Now! that waited just outside the Heathrow.

As on the plane, the seats on the shuttles were equipped with headphones and TV screens on the back of each seat. These screens only had one program, a video introduction to London Now!, hosted by a cartoon of a vested man with a comically enormous beard and a permanent smile plastered to his face. As the shuttle started to climb the video began.

"Hello there littl'uns, welcome to jolly ol' Great Britain! You know me, of course, I'm Charles Dickens! Author of A Christmas Carol, and Oliver Twist, to name only a couple!"

Mrs. Kneally looked on amused, remembering the agony of reading the real Dickens in college.

"Now I know you're all going to have lots of fun at London Now! The most authentic FUN and hands-on way to learn about the history of London! I'm here to offer some tips on how to get the most out of your visit."

The shuttle broke suddenly, hurtling the students forward a bit. There was a loud screech. Froy looked to the window at his side and only saw his own reflection, the windows were tinted nearly black from the inside. He turned away from his image and back to the animated Dickens, who was now strolling through the computer generated grounds of London Now! While he watched, the shuttle resumed motion.

"While you're on queue for a ride, make sure you take a look at the walls and monitors that surround you. Take my ride for instance, Charles Dickens' Oliver Twister, an indoor rollercoaster through the recreated streets of 19th century London! While you wait for your carriage, the monitors above will show a filmed dramatization of some of my most famous scenes, and that's not all, you can actually meet one of my characters as you leave the ride. Make sure you have a word with David Copperfield or the Artful Dodger on the way out, but watch your pockets, gov'ner!"

"That one's for kids," Craig sneered to himself.

Dickens continues through the empty park, showing the students the various rides, live shows, films, and concession stands. He terminates his trip outside the entrance for The Tower.

"Well here's where I leave you mates, I don't believe I need to introduce this ride to you, just remember you'll actually be able to catch a glimpse the real London from the top! Well, I need say no more. I hope you all have great expectations for London Now! and I know we won't let you down." Suddenly Dickens is startled by a noise. He turns and cocks his head up to the top of the massive Tower to observe the wheel drop rapidly with the choir of tourists screaming along with it. "Maybe I spoke too soon. Enjoy your stay, yanks!"

The video terminated and the shuttle came to a stop. The class could contain themselves no more, throwing off their headphones and jumping up out of their seats in joy.

The class presented their printed tickets at the gate, their hands were stamped with invisible ultraviolet ink, and they passed into the park. An actor dressed as Union Jack greeted them cheerfully.

"Welcome to London Now!!" he bellowed. The class squealed, bolting in different directions. Everyone had picked a ride or attraction to run to. Ms. Kneally called after them, "Remember we're meeting at 5:30 PM to get on line for The Tower! Oh, and remember to learn something!"

Froy jogged behind Craig towards The Shrew. Along the way his pace slowed and he put a hand on Froy's shoulder signaling him to slow down, speaking between deep breaths he said, "Let's just. walk the. rest of the way."

Froy observed his new settings as they walked. Everything was brand new, but designed to look old. Steel structures were glopped with an imitation stucco or painted to resemble tan bricks. The ground below him was paved with cobble stones, perfectly cut and placed in a geometric grid. There was a large three story house of in front of him; he instantly recognized it from his homework as a re-creation of Shakespeare's now crumbling and waterlogged house in Stratford-upon-Avon. Unlike most of the buildings this part of the park it appeared far more authentic and did not seem to have some kind of arcade, fast food restaurant, or souvenir shop inside. He had read in a London Now! brochure that selected scenes of Shakespeare's drama were performed all day in the courtyard behind it. He drew towards it but Craig grabbed his shoulder again.

"Look!" Craig exclaimed, pointing above the three-gabled house, "There it is!" He was pointing at The Shrew, one of the park's larger roller coasters, rising above the tiny cottage, casting it in angular and unnatural shadow. "Let's find the line!"

"Okay, but." but Craig was already galloping towards the entrance to the coaster, indicated by an illustration of Shakespeare and three similarly dressed characters (whom Froy would learn, from an animated adaptation of Taming of The Shrew that screened on the 90-minute line, were Petruccio, Bianca, and Baptista) screaming as they plunge in one of the coaster's Victorian-themed cars.

They left The Shrew with pants of excitement. Craig delegated that they rush to the Armada swinging ship ride and then to the RAF Dogfighter fighter pilot simulator. The line for which was a walkthrough of a recreated WWI trench.

After being denied from entering The Ripper Craig despairingly offered Froy the next pick. Froy, seizing his opportunity, unfurled the map of the giant park, and studied it carefully, looking at times for different performances and tours. He hadn't expected to make a choice, but he chose the London pavilion, a massive indoor exhibit that walks through different exhibits based on eras of London culture.

Craig choked, "What? You want to go to a museum?" He made his familiar sick face, but Froy, probably along with the park's designers, had planned for such a reaction.

"Look, there's a ride inside!" Froy pointed to a description of The Disasters, a ride that recreates several of the major catastrophes in London's history, "Plus, it's closer to The Tower." Craig accepted the compromise and they were on their way.

When they got there, of course, Craig went immediately to the Queue. Each segment of the line displayed a film about London's disasters, all narrated in same severe and throaty British voice. The first was on the Great Fire of London, called the "second worst disaster in London's history." The next room was a film on the plague, the next, shelling during WWII. The last room before the ride was to explain the flood of 2011, a topic that was so recent it was not often referenced around the park. A few seconds after the film started the monitors went blank, there was silence on the line. Froy could hear from the next room the ride had stopped as well. After a few moments a voice announced technical difficulties. Froy turned to Craig who exhaled painfully, "you had to suggest this junky ride didn't you?" He continued staring at the blank screen in agitation. He wondered if it was just his company that was letting his enjoyment of the day wane.

With the entertainment down Froy once again noticed his surroundings. The walls were curiously undecorated, other rooms were adorned with photographs, text, or artifacts, but these walls were painted black. Froy realized he was now in a black room filled with people who had little to no interest in actually learning about this far off and once important place called Britain, and he might as well be at a movie theater back in the States, or anywhere in world really. This park could have been built anywhere, it was a model, a movie set, a freshly built ghost town. Froy crossed his arms.

"Are you having fun? Are you learning?" he asked, staring a the blank wall. The question entirely confounded Craig.

He simplified the question. "Didn't we come here to learn something?" "That's what the lines are for, what's gotten into you?"

Froy hadn't slept the night before because he was excited to travel to England, but aside from physically moving this was not travel, he had not seen anything authentic, he had not met anyone new, he was just jet lagged and tired-and tired of waiting, and tired of gleaning mere tiny bits of information while he did. It was as if he were still completing chapters of the video game amongst computer generated architecture. He ached to climb to the top of the tower and actually see that he was somewhere was, that it was actually Britain under that flag, that the plane ride had not been a simulation.

"Craig, why is all you care about rides? Don't you care we're in a new continent?" Froy's frustration multiplied, the questions seemed to ricochet off his blank face. "Don't you want to know what London looks like? Does it even still exist? God, why am I even asking you?"

The voice appeared again and apologetically announced the ride was closed for the day.

"Great!" Craig said, escaping the barrage, "It's almost 5, let's go meet the class."

Reunited with his group, the classmates buzzed about each other bragging about how they had spent their day. Every group attempted to one-up the other on the amount of rides they managed squeeze in. Craig blamed his low total on Froy, who was still letting his disappointment in the trip so far grind away in his head. Exhausted and sad at this point could think of nothing better to do than watch Ms. Kneally as she smoked a cigarette, waiting for 5:30 so she could get the class to the Tower and then back to Heathrow on time for their 7 PM flight back to Georgia. Exhaling smoke, she noticed Froy looking at her. He nervously averted his gaze, looking upwards to the endlessly rising cylinder behind her.

Along the base of it were postcard style pictures of London over the last century. He estimated the latest one, showing a double-decker bus passing Big Ben, lit up in orange and green, with the red Milennium Wheel in the background, must have been taken no later than 2008. This was the kind of image of modern London he was familiar with from his studies, but he had an anxiety that this London no longer existed. This was the London of the recent past, it, although teeming with color and electricity, is dead. Only the present London lived, but there are no postcards of London now. An internet image search revealed only postcard-style pictures from 2011, or earlier, or pictures of the amusement park, as photographs were not allowed from the top of the Tower, and no one was interested in dwelling upon the current state of the city. He realized the only moment of this trip that would be worthwhile was the view from the top.

Ms. Kneally checked her watch and dropped her cigarette, stamping it out with the pointy toe of her right shoe. "Okay class its time follow me or you'll miss the Tower and we leave you in England!" The class immediately formed into their line, more rigid than normal in the face of such stakes.

The ride kept a rigid schedule, there were two groups scheduled to ride first, the class watched them ride. The students ground their teeth, rang their hands, and stamped on their own feet as they watched the wheel slowly turn and climb over the course of seven minutes, then drop in only one. Finally it was their turn. The wheel slowly docked and its doors swung up, revealing two empty rows of seats lining the perimeter inside. The class filed in. Froy sat in the front row, looking forwards at the massive screen that currently explained how to restrain one's self to the seat along with accompanying illustrations. Park employees, dressed as Beefeaters, made sure all the children were locked in place. The last Beefeater exited and the doors closed behind him.

Froy gripped the handlebars tightly, tension wound up in his chest. He looked over at Craig, whose mouth was stretched into such an unnatural look of apprehension he looked more like an overjoyed orangutan than a boy.

"Finally, Froy, finally!" Craig shrieked, swinging his wrists and kicking his feet, the only parts of him unrestrained. Froy nodded agreement, dropping his recently developed negativity and allowing a grin to form on his face.

"Get ready for the fall, mates!" Another classmate exclaimed in a mock British accent.

The wheel began to turn slowly and rise as the screen began to show images of the history of Britain starting with the mysterious Stonehenge, moving towards the Norman invasion of 1066, the faces of all the British kings and queens appeared in rapid succession. The British flag rose on a flagpole, images of its historical colonies behind it. Soon the flags of the nations that resulted from the collapse of the British Empire appeared behind these images. Much of the class cheered at the American Flag's early appearance on the pole.

Below the screen there was a few feet of uncovered Plexiglas where Froy could see the park falling away from him as they rose. The rides and crowds beneath him became like models. Soon it appeared like the layout on the brochure. He was anxious for the wheel to turn towards London. He yearned to see the reality behind the pictures on the screen, which was now showing images of WWII, and then instantly the rising skyscrapers of rebuilt London. Next was the Milennium wheel, and Froy knew they were near the top, the park now hundreds of meters below him. Words began to appear and disappear on the screen in different spots, forcing the attention of the riders, the text getting larger and bolder with each word. As the words danced the screen began to retract into the top of the wheel. the words eventually formed a sentence: "And now you will see the original London."

The screen now gone the wheel had completed its turn and the class got its momentary glimpse.

Froy's imaginary image of London as an Old World metropolis with yellowing ancient towers aside glass skyscrapers was dramatically wrong. He saw only sea stretching into the horizon. A few tips of buildings poked out, including the top segments of the Milennium Wheel and the House of Parliament, recognizable only by Big Ben, only the twelve on its clock face visible above the water level.

After allowing a glimpse of the drowned empire the wheel dropped. Froy, in familiar chorus with the rest of his class, screamed in terror as they dropped back to Earth.

_ _

Andy Folk is completing his BA in Fiction at the New School in Manhattan. He lives in Brooklyn, New York.

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