The Stairs, Chapter 31
Indignity Vol. 6, No. 51
THE STAIRS
© Tom Scocca, 2025
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, and events is entirely coincidental, with the exception of the events in Chapters One and Two, which happened more or less as written, on the line between Cambridge and Somerville, Massachusetts, on Memorial Day weekend in 1999.
31.
At first I thought I was looking at a huge model landscape of mountains and valleys. Then as my eyes started to focus, I saw that the terrain was an entire miniature city—building after building, street after street—piled up into different stacks and levels, rising up against the edges of the surrounding blocks to the north and south, dropping into valleys, then rising again around an immense, dark Christmas tree in the middle.
The tree must have been 50 feet high. The late sun reflected off tinsel and glass and silvery metal—tiny windows, train tracks, girders, railings. I spotted a Ferris wheel and a carousel, and a long blimp hovering above them. Beyond those, I could see scaled-down replicas of the Marble City ballpark, Shroe Field, and of the familiar star-shaped walls of Fort Muntjac.
"How did they build all this?" Theo said, in awe.
"It's incredible," I said. I couldn't come up with anything else to say.
"Oh, yeah," Maxine said. "This is a good one."
We pushed the box on its dolly up to the right-hand entrance archway. "We're here from the City Forest," Dr. Argemend told the man at the gate. He was wearing a maroon overcoat with the Shinter's S on it.
He glanced at the clipboard he was holding. I heard a soft skittering sound and caught a glimpse of Marta jumping from a light post to the candy-striped gateway. "More with the plantings?" he said.
"Just one last checkup," she said.
He stepped aside. "Crowd's coming soon," he said. "The other crowd, I mean." He tilted his head at the walkway beyond, where dozens of people in Shinter's uniforms or coveralls or red-white-and-green knitted costumes were hurrying this way and that, carrying crates and parcels and decorations. We followed Dr. Argemend past him and into the bustle.
More walkways peeled off to the left and right, weaving through the scenery and going up ramps and stairways to wide, elevated catwalks. It looked as if the entire toy department, and much of the rest of the store, had been turned inside out into the street. I saw more of the toy speedboats, bobbing in a darkened canal with sailing yachts alongside them—mechanical ice skaters poised on a mirror-like pond—white-furred teddy bears with glittering black eyes. In a little corral stood a trio of live ponies in red velvet halters, their breath coming out in clouds in the cold. Bells on the halters jingled as they shifted their feet. For a moment, I almost forgot that time was collapsing and that we had to stop it.
"This way," Dr. Argemend said, steering us up a long, curving ramp. It crossed over the pathway below and led toward the looming Christmas tree in the center of the Garden. It was less crowded here, and darker, with hedges of holly on either side.
We stopped in the shadows. Pythia crawled out of my coat and perched on the hedge. Further ahead, on a riser maybe a third of the way up the tree, I could see a model train station. A model Marble City elevated train, with cars a yard long, was sitting at the platform. As I watched, it pulled away from the station—the only decoration I could see moving in the whole Yuletide Garden. A few seconds later, another train pulled in, going the opposite way.
"Perfect," Marta's voice said, from somewhere in the holly. "Let's go, Doc." Dr. Argemend looked up and down the path, then started unsnapping the canvas covering on the box. We joined in. Underneath was wire mesh. Dr. Argemend peeled back one end of the canvas, unhooked a wire door, and swung it open.
"Never doing this again," said a voice from inside. "Not for you, Marta; not for you, Doc; not for whatever unique and irreplaceable piece of time and space these kids may come from."
"Take these," Dr. Argemend said, handing a cloth bag to Maxine. "And pass them out." Maxine reached in the bag and pulled out an acorn. A black squirrel poked its head out of the opening.
"A cage," the squirrel said. "Start working for the humans—start working for the humans' government—and this is where it goes."
"Talk less, move more, Barney," said Pythia.
"I'm sorry," Dr. Argemend said. "This was the only way I could think of to get you here."
"I know, I know," Barney said. He turned his attention to the acorn in Maxine's hand. "Direct payment?" he asked.
"You're not a government contractor anymore, as you know," Dr. Argemend said. "Maxine, give the fellow his acorn, would you?" Maxine held it out, and Barney emerged from the cage, took it, and stuffed it in one cheek.
"Outlaw work," Barney said, a little thickly. "Creative destruction. Off we go." He hopped down and headed up the walkway, keeping to the foot of the holly hedge, toward the train station.
Behind him, and with less complaining, came a second squirrel. Then a third, and a fourth, and a fifth. Maxine handed each one another acorn from the bag. Six, seven, eight...I lost count when I got to 14 or 15, but they kept coming after that.
A model elevated train pulled out of the station. Inside the cars, I could see dark shadows. As the train went on up along its trestle and slowly rolled around the curve, I saw one squirrel after another slip off it and disappear into the landscape: between fake snowy hills, behind the right-field grandstand of Shroe Field, through the painted horses of the carousel. A second train departed, with more squirrels spreading out from it, the other way.
"What are they doing?" I asked. "What are we supposed to be doing?"
"Sabotage," Marta said. "Fun stuff. Me too." She set off on foot, heading straight for the tree itself.
"Are they trying to cut the power to the resonator?" Maxine said.
"No, no," someone said behind us. "If we're going to stop it, they'll need to do just the opposite."
Find previous chapters of The Stairs here.
SIDE PIECES DEP'T.
Joe MacLeod
AT FLAMING HYDRA, Joe went to a Major League Baseball game and a commercial broke out.
I guess having this game-long Star Wars saturation is a great way to plant the seed of the Intellectual Property in young brains who mighta never seen a star war? Is that possible? Maybe there are lotsa young brains out there who only know about the Star Wars by osmosis and popular reference? Maybe someone or some robot thing saw a way in to a brain that likes sports? I guess it’s extended fan service or something, a way to rope Star Wars enthusiasts into going to a baseball game. There were definitely nerdcore adults in attendance having a good time!
WEATHER REVIEWS
New York City, June 10, 2026
★★ The sun brightened and dimmed through a filter of cloud. The warmth and humidity on the balcony were tolerable but a persisting, assertive wasp was not. Out in the street a young man screamed looping versions of the same half of a phone conversation with his girlfriend—of five years, according to him—over and over till every open window on the block knew his side of things as thoroughly as she did. Gingko branches drooped with still-unripe fruit in the thickening air. The sky had gone from white to light gray, with darker patches trying to gather themselves into something stormy-looking as occasional single drops came down. A man walked along pushing a stroller, wearing a t-shirt with damp spots tracing the shape of the straps and body of the backpack now worn by the woman beside him. The intermittent drops were replaced by an ongoing but almost nonexistent drizzle; it was possible that sweat was coming out of the skin faster than the invisible droplets were landing on it. The air conditioning had to come on. After dark, it went off again, and windows that had been opened to let in the potential sound of thunder instead let in the triumphant crackle of volley after volley of fireworks.
New York City, June 11, 2026
★★ The spider plant looked floppy in the morning sun and the watering can was warm to the touch. By the sound and smell, someone was smoking weed while making a phone call out on the fire stairs. It was possible to take breaks from the din of the air conditioners if the lights stayed low and not much movement was involved. The sky was full of various unrelated shapes of clouds—peppercorns, white sheets, puffs—not in a dynamic churning but in a scattered static jumble, as if they'd been dumped out there by someone rummaging for something else. When the sun happened to go behind some of them, the heat lost its baking quality, but the air still made the lungs feel as if they were working against a weight on the sternum. Smokers were out in it, not only undiscouraged but languid, holding their places in the shade. One had his feet up on a table in the little fenced front space by a real estate office. A woman on a cigarette break outside McDonald's called out to a man a little way up the block, to ask if the mostly empty bottle tucked between his lower leg and the wall was Olde English. "Nasty as hell," he called back, affirmatively.
SANDWICH RECIPES DEP'T.
WE PRESENT INSTRUCTIONS for the assembly of a sandwich selected from Consolidated Library of Modern Cooking and Household Recipes, Vol. IV, by Christine Terhune Herrick, Editor-In-Chief, author of The Little Dinner, The Chafing-Dish Supper, etc., and associate author with Marion Harland of the National Cook Book, with a list of contributors which includes many of the famous chefs and cooking experts of the United States, published in 1905 and available at archive.org for the delectation of all.
Strawberry Sandwiches
1/2 cupful soft butter; add 7 cleaned berries, 1 cupful confectioners’ sugar, tablespoonful lemon juice; mash; set on ice to chill; spread crustless fresh bread and roll; pin in cloth for three hours. Arrange in a pyramid on a lace-paper doily and decorate with whole berries and their foliage.
Watercress or other Salad Sandwiches
Prepare bread for sandwiches. Take watercress that has been washed and shaken dry. Dip into French salad dressing and put on bread; a little cheese, creamed, or French mustard spread over salad greens makes a palatable addition. Lettuce, nasturtium, and other salad greens may also be prepared in the above manner. The greens may be shredded or chopped, and mayonnaise dressing may be substituted for French dressing.
If you are inspired to prepare a sandwich inspired by our continued offerings, be sure to send along a description of your experience and a photo or three to us here: indignity@indignity.net.
EASY LISTENING DEP'T.
Here is the Indignity Morning Podcast archive!
TOM SCOCCA
SELF-SERVING SELF-PROMOTION DEP'T.
