Chris and the Ottsel: Chapter 3: The Ideas

“What the hell have I got myself into?” Chris said to himself as he hunched over his desk on the 10th floor.
It was the same view he had come to know and love. He could see all of downtown. He could see the three rivers. Heck, he could even see his house. But none of that mattered right now. He would lose it all if the paper went down, and now, he was the only one who could save not only himself, but the paper as well.
Chris had a pencil and paper, and was trying to scribble down ideas furiously. But all of them seemed out of reach and just too expensive – the rain forests in Africa, the pollution problems, the rare phenomena – the same song and dance had been done before, and he really couldn’t come up with anything new.
Hours went by. Chris thought to himself, “It’s a wonder Dave hasn’t come in here to check on me.”
At 7:00, Dave finally did. Suddenly, he had changed his dour expression from earlier into one of hope and confidence.
“Hey, hey, Saunders! How are those ideas coming along?”
Chris faked a smile and said, “Oh, they’re coming, sir! Fast and furious! I’m bound to find one that stands out and makes people ooh and aah!”
Dave’s looked changed back to a stern one. “You better. Remember – two weeks…I’m out. ‘Night.”
“Night.” Chris said as his office door closed.
How long can I possibly stay here? Chris thought. I have to make this process shorter.
Chris remembered that he was given a long, huge map of the world his first day that he had never even seen and never even put on his wall, because he felt he would never need to use it. Well, this was one of those times to use it!
Chris quickly reached into his bottom door and pulled out the behemoth poster. He also pulled out his extra-large pushpins and tacked it on his wall, placing them about 3 feet apart on the top and bottom.
“Nice,” Chris said as he admired his work. But now Chris was faced with another dilemma: How would he choose the location?
Randomly placing a finger somewhere? Too boring, and he might get dizzy and faint.
Writing down a list and just narrowing it down? No, and besides he had wasted enough paper already.
He had to find some random way to do it. He looked through the doors. Maybe an old worker had left something in there for this type of situation. Suddenly, he felt something pointy in the 2nd left-hand drawer.
“Ow!” Chris said.
Then, he saw what it was: A dart!
“OW!” Chris screamed, now in a more happy, painfree way, as he picked up the dart. This is the perfect way to do it, Chris thought.
Chris looked at the map, staring hard. He had to think about all the different factors: where to aim, how to shoot, and whether or not he should close his eyes.
Chris quickly decided. In order for it to be completely random, Chris decided to close his eyes, aim for the center at first, then do a number of twists, spins, and other crazy moves until he just let it go.
“That way, I won’t know until I’ve opened my eyes,” Chris said, with a slight laugh.
Chris backed up, away from his desk, toward the opposite wall. He zeroed in on the center of the map at first, pointing the dart at it. At the moment, it was zeroed in on Chris’s first choice: Africa.
“Please, dart…pick a place that I can find a story that’s worthy of saving this paper, and my career.”
Chris closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He then moved left, moved right, spun around, flailed all around, and then launched his arm back and forward. He heard the dart quickly sail through the air with a wheeze, but had no clue where it was going, and didn’t know until he heard the dart hit the map and wall with a BOOSH.
Chris kept his eyes closed for a few seconds, then opened them. His mouth dropped.
The dart wasn’t in Africa. The dart wasn’t even in the United States.
It wasn’t in Europe, nor Asia, not even Antarctica where nothing was.
No, the dart had landed, at first glance, in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of South America.
“Are you kidding? That doesn’t help me! I’ve got to throw again.” Chris said with a sigh. Now he knew he was going to be there all night.
But as Chris approached the map, he saw something. The dart hadn’t landed in the ocean – it had landed on a medium-sized island, just off the Brazilian coast. It had landed smack in the middle.
Chris had his eyes right up to where the dart had embedded itself. He saw two bold words in fairly large print: HAVEN CITY.
“Haven City?” Chris said.
He couldn’t believe it. Why would the magic dart land Chris in a place he’d never heard of, and an island he didn’t even know existed until now?
Chris knew that there had to be a reason, though. Without thinking, he grabbed his briefcase, darted out of the room, went down the elevator, and out the front door.
He had to do some research on this Haven City. What made it so mysterious and interesting, if anything?

(Word Count at this point: 2,440 - a mere 4.8%)