AMONG THE GEARS AND WHEELS

I am in front of a subway entrance.  People are going up and down the stairs when I notice one man, who also appears to be looking at me.  He looks strange – his skin and clothes,  worker’s coveralls,  are the same shade of brown, what hair escapes from beneath his hat is also brown and wavy.   He approaches me and asks if I would like to join him on an interesting journey.

There is no hesitation in me.  I agree immediately, and together we go down the stairs to the subway platform.  He leads me through the throng of people who are waiting for the next train, and straight off the platform into the darkness of the tunnel.   We are now walking in single file along a narrow ledge until he reaches a specific door, which he opens and waves me through.

Here I begin to lose sense of perspective, and this hits me hard as he opens yet another door after our short walk along a dimly-lit corridor.  The world that opens up before me is one of gears and wheels, moving smoothly within one another.  I lose perspective – have we shrunk to a tiny size and are within the mechanism of a wind-up clock? Or is everything really this gigantic!?  I stare open-mouthed at this extraordinary scene and wonder what all this runs.  My companion grins at my amazement, and points up.  It’s then that I notice that all the wheels and gears are full of people, dressed even as he is!  They balance and swing from one level to another without any fear or concern, and they’re all busy working, cleaning, shining  and oiling to make sure everything runs smoothly.

Grinning, my companion holds out his hand to me, and leads me by a convoluted way ever upwards.  I now see that there are little roads that are purposely set out among all the moving machinery, and in between these cogs, wheels and gears are full of living spaces inhabited by the people – neat, small, shaped in odd ways to fit the space, but fully adapted with all conveniences of living.  All these tend to be on the lower levels of this incredible world.  As we climb higher, we begin to meet more people busy with their tasks.

We stop for a moment at one level, and I watch another man do something that seems to be particularly hazardous – he is concentrating on putting certain decals onto a wheel that seems just out of reach.  He stretches himself while holding on just by his fingertips to a smooth metallic ridge, as he neatly and quickly slaps on the dark brown circles onto the moving edge of the wheel.  I suddenly understand that this is done only for bragging rights, it is a sport these people practice. 

I feel somewhat overwhelmed and ask my companion to take me back to my world, which he does without question.  For a few seconds, as I stand on the subway platform, my world seems very alien.  He stands with me until I get my balance again and then, with a warm hug and smile, he melts back into the tunnel darkness.