She Just Might Get You Lost

Poppy stared out the window as the long anticipated plea of land was answered. The Atlantic Ocean didn’t seem quite so vast as she strained her eyes to study rolling hills and the beauty of the English countryside.

“I still cannot believe I’m doing this.” she whispered to herself. No one else really could, either. Lottie and Hayden had trouble following the logic Poppy had- explaining the big move was to find her ‘place’.

Her parents were more worried for her than confused. Mother worried she would be murdered by Jack the Ripper. Poppy gently informed her that the criminal was before both of their time. Father complained of the cost when his daughter reminded him that she had her college fund to live on since she went to school on a scholarship.

Poppy claimed this plan was full proof. But all her family could see were the holes.

Waiting in baggage claim for her two blue suitcases, she looked around. So many different types of people were here- from skinny British boys to an African American woman sporting an afro style, Poppy was awed by the array. Once she found her heavy rolling bags, she trudged to the exit. Just as she stepped outside, she inhaled what she thought of as fresh air then before choking on the amount of exhaust.

A few crude woman laughed at Poppy’s innocence. Embarrassed, she joined the line of people waiting for cabs. Just as one pulled up for her, a man talking on his phone cut his way to the front, barked directions to the driver and sped off.

Poppy was appalled.

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Finally hailing a cab all on her own, she read off the address slowly and away they went. Poppy had no time to marvel at the beauty of London, since the cabbie asked questions relentlessly.

“What’s the reason of visiting, miss?”

She looked from the window to the rear view mirror, where the stout bald man’s eyes met hers.

“I’m going to live here. Just moved.”

“Well there’s no better place to be than lovely, foggy ol’ London!” She smiled at his accent and leaned into the worn seats. “So where’s the minger getting into your knickers, eh?”

Poppy was dumfounded for the first time in her life, “excuse me?”

“Your boyfriend.” He clarified dully.

“I don’t have one,” she answered simply. His ears perked up like a dog.

“Delight! Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.” She ignored his invitation and felt relief once the cab pulled to a stop. “Here we are- in the heart of Little Venice.” She stepped out of the cab and grinned, what looked like a one big building was really individual apartments, or flats. She looked down at the slip of paper then up again. This was it, number four Clarendon Gardens. Poppy paid the gross man the fare and made her way into her new home.

She ran through all the rooms as if she was a child at Christmas. It was the oddest thing- the living room and kitchen were in the basement, then there was a bathroom and sitting room on the main floor. Up the stairs there was the master bedroom with a full bath and then go up yet another flight of stairs, there were two more rooms.

Sitting down on one of the many flights of stairs she now owned, she looked to her watch- the movers would be here in two hours. She was about to stand until a knock made her cower in fear. Where was that coming from? Poppy opened the front door and looked outside. Nothing. What other door is there?

“Look down, you jammy!” she heard a voice yell. Looking down near her front door, there was another door. This place just keeps getting crazier by the minute.

Poppy descended down the stairs to a small courtyard where a man was standing. He was African American, with startling brown eyes and an afro just like the woman she had seen at the airport.

Holding out his hand, he smiled triumphantly, “Lance Rivera, at your service.” She was almost startled at his English accent, and took his hand- which he shook ferociously.

“Poppy Gray.”

Lance crinkled his nose, “puppet?”

“No,” she laughed, “its Poppy.” He stood up a little straighter and tried to get her name into his head.

“I’ll just call you puppet,” he decided. ”So, we have a Yankee on the block, I see!”

She nodded and looked around to the other flats on the block. “Does anyone else live on this block?”

“Of course, puppet. They are just hermits. Every now and then, you’ll see 'em crawl out of their shells.”

“Is he bothering you?” Poppy and Lance both looked up at the new voice. An adorably small girl with a pixie cut hopped down the stairs, “I swear, Lance.” she muttered before turning to Poppy. “I’m Chloe, I live across the street.”

Poppy shook her hand, “I’m-”

“This is puppet,” Lance took the honors of the introduction, “her name is puppet.”

“Welcome to the neighborhood then. You bought old Harold’s flat I see.”

Poppy looked to the building then back to them, “Where’s Ha-” Lance shook his head quickly and silence swept through the three.

After a few minutes, they all went inside- more like Lance let himself in, through a window.

“I’m telling you mate, that’s the only way to get into a house. Doors are far too civilized.”

Poppy Gray knew she was going to like her neighbors.