In the boys' reality, New York City is an impressive place to be. Shops, theatres, museums, and my GOD, the people! Now imagine the same thing in brilliant four-color glory, with the occasional superhuman floating, teleporting, or swinging overhead. Yeah, they stared in awe. But not for too long. Hey- they just fought supervillains. What- like some town is going to impress them?
Unfortunately, our heroes did stop and stare for exactly the amount of time it took Access to catch his breath, make a dirty gesture at Joe (while he himself was unaware, of course), and then pop off to wherever it is that dimension-hoppers go when they just want to get the hell away from relatively unpleasant people. As soon as he was gone, Joe realized just how vague a destination "New York City" was.
"Dr. Strange lives in Greenwich Village, folks. Any idea where that is from here?"
"Only one way to find out," Charles said as he stepped into traffic. [It is important to note that Charles Curtis Hopkins II is one of the luckiest people ever (if not the luckiest person ever). Okay, so he didn't do superwell against the Circus of Crime. We speculate that it was his natural luck just catching on to the new dimension thing. Back now in full swing, Charles can do things like hail a taxi cab in the middle of New York just by wishing for one and stepping out into traffic. Kids: Do NOT try this at home (or in New York City).] The taxi cab pulled to a screeching halt, and Joe, Kyle, and Charles piled in.
"Where to?"
"Greenwich Village."
"What, that's it?"
"Yep. Just somewhere in Greenwich Village."
"Hoo-kay."
The cabbie flipped on his fare meter, and began to drive. About six blocks later, he stopped. "Greenwich Village. That'll be $16."
"For six freakin' blocks?!?!?" Joe cried.
"There's a minimum fee, plus mileage. Didn't you read?"
After a few unhappy murmurs between the three friends, Charles paid the cabbie and the three young men stepped out of the cab. They were down to just $29 between the three of them.
* * *
"Okay," said Joe, lighting his third-to-last-cigarette. "We're in Greenwich Village. Now we just need to find Dr. Strange's house."
"It's got that ---- window," Charles said, filling those dashes with a Nova-Scotian jumble of his fingers.
"Right," Joe said, "And a spell that makes passers-by not notice it. So all he have to do is walk down the streets of Greenwich Village, and yell out when you notice the ---- window."
"Or," said Kyle, catching on, "Yell out if you don't notice the ---- window."
"Exactly," Joe said. "Exactly."
* * *
It was a great plan. But it failed. Miserably. For all their vaunted comic book knowledge, our heroes were still residents of the Marvel Universe and, as such, vulnerable to things like magic spells that cloak houses.
"We've been all over the place," Kyle said after four hours of searching. It was now 3:30 in the afternoon, and everyone was hungry and tired. "Surely we must've seen the house by now."
"I'm pretty sure we have seen it," Joe said. "That's the problem- we all just forgot about it afterward."
"I have a thought about that," Charles said. "You know how psychiatrists can use hypnosis to regress people to past lives or to uncover repressed memories?"
"Like in 'Dead Again,'" Joe offered.
"Right. Well, why don't we try using Joe's hypno-coat to 'remind' ourselves where the house is?"
Joe slapped his right fist into his open left palm, and melodramatically shouted, "That's so crazy- it just might work!!!" Then, with a twitch of his synapses, Joe snapped on his new coat's hypnotic effect. Kyle and Charles watched, spellbound. "Chuck?" Joe asked.
"Yes?" asked Kyle.
"Yes?" asked Charles.
"Can you remember seeing the house with the unusual window?"
"Yes," said Kyle.
"Yes," said Charles.
"Can you lead us there?" asked Joe.
"Yes," answered Kyle, who set out on a determined pace to the north.
"Yes," answered Charles, who set out on a determined pace to the south.
Joe grabbed Kyle by the wrist and followed behind Charles.
It turned out that the house they were looking for was only a block away. So, at about a quarter-to-four in the middle of a sunny August afternoon, Joe, Kyle, and Charles (now awakened from his hypnotic trance) were knocking on the door of one Dr. Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme. A short, bald Asian man answered the door.
"Yes?" said Wong.
"Wong!" said Joe. "This is so cool! I'm talking to Wong!"
Kyle brought his hands to rest on top of his head, his elbows pointed away from his body. "No, no, no!" he said. "It's WOOONG." This last word was drawn out extraordinarily long, and seemed to require making the bizarre gesture Kyle was in the middle of.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes," said Joe, obviously recognizing his mistake. "WOOONG." Joe even made the gesture. Wong seemed about ready to make gestures of his own, so, Charles jumped in.
"Is Dr. Strange in, please?" Charles asked.
"One moment, sir," said Wong as he showed the three into the foyer. As he disappeared to find his employer, Wong could faintly here the tall blond one in the ugly coat repeating his name over and over again in the same sort of tone used by that "Beavis" fellow from the television.
Wong seemed to emerge from the single oaken door leading into the house almost immediately after stepping through it. Surely he didn't have enough time to find the doctor, Joe thought. But, Wong seemed satisfied as he announced, "The Doctor is in."
Charles, Kyle, and Joe allowed themselves to be led through a twisting series of passages, doors, and stairways until they arrived in a small library. Wong indicated that the three young men should find seats, then stepped quietly from the room. Charles and Kyle each pulled up one of the four large chairs situated around a small table in the center of the room. Joe continued to stand, perusing the various bookshelves in this room. Many of the titles seemed to be in Latin, and quite a few seemed to be written in a language that was not Earthly at all. Those few titles that were in English seemed to be nothing but filler- Dr. Strangelove, David Copperfield, and Good Omens, for example. As he prepared to leave the shelves and find a seat, Joe noticed the gleam of light reflecting off of metal from one of the top shelves. Standing on his tip-toes, Joe felt along the shelf until his fingers came in contact with a small metal hoop. Using the edge of his finger to stand the ring on end, Joe slid his pinky through the loop and pulled it from the top shelf. The ring was forged from the brightest gold, and slid on to Joe's pinky as though it had been measured to fit Joe alone. The design itself was of two tangent, parallel lines which crossed once in the center of the ring. As he traced the design with his fingers, though, Joe realized that the two lines were, in fact, impossibly one. Before he could study the paradoxical beauty of the golden ring, however, Joe heard the door to the library open, and all three of our heroes turned to face the man entering the room.
There was a quiet wisdom about Dr. Stephen Strange. He wasn't a particularly handsome man. In fact, his face was creased with wrinkles, his hair was graying, and the thin moustache he wore was the ugliest facial hair Kyle, Charles, or Joe had seen since- well, since the Ringmaster, but before that, it had been a long time. Strange wasn't a particularly powerful or charismatic man, either, looking very much like he could be knocked over by a push from a two-year-old. Still, something about his face told Kyle, Charles, and Joe that this man had done and seen nearly everything there was to do or see. Joe was reminded of a t-shirt he'd once had that said "Ask Me Anything." Strange could've, and perhaps should've, worn that shirt. Instead, Dr. Strange wore his standard uniform these days- a black bodysuit with a thick red jacket/cape pulled over his shoulders. "I am Strange," he said.
"Any relation to Sarah?" Joe quipped, thinking of his soon-to-be-married ex-girlfriend.
Strange turned to look at Joe. Then, as though puzzled, he turned his gaze on to Charles, and finally Kyle. "You do not belong here," he said finally.
"Yes, sir," said Kyle.
"We're sort of stranded in the wrong dimension, sir," said Charles. "We were hoping you could use your magic to send us back to where we belong."
Strange seemed thoughtful for a moment, then spoke again, softly. "You hoped in vain. My ability to pierce the dimensions with impunity was lost to me about two years ago, along with the bulk of my magic powers. Now, I'm left with the relatively meager ability to observe and manipulate cosmic forces. All things considered, there's nothing I can do for you."
"Actually," said Joe, now desperately tugging at the pinky of his right hand. "There is maybe one thing you could do. Can you help me get this thing off?"
Dr. Strange's eyes widened at the sight of the ring. "Where did you get that?" he cried.
"I found it on top of that bookshelf," said Joe, pointing. "It sort of fell onto my finger and stuck there."
"I've been looking all over for that!" said a very flabbergasted Dr. Strange. "It's a Psionic Talisman. When I first began my career as Earth's Sorcerer Supreme, I used that ring to boost my less-than-impressive psychic defenses. Once my own mental shields were in place, I discarded the ring. Obviously, that's where I left it."
"So now I'm invulnerable to mental attacks or something?"
"Hardly. Assuming you have a normal person's willpower, that ring will give you reasonable psionic shielding. But any telepath worth his or her salt could bypass them, given a little time."
"Hunh. Well, Doc, the ring's yours. Help me get it off, and I'll gladly give it back."
Dr. Strange's face fell. "I used a spell to keep the ring from being stolen. It won't come off until the counterspell is recited."
Joe looked expectantly at the mage, whose expression told Joe exactly what he'd already suspected. "And, since you've lost the bulk of your magic powers...."
"I can't counterspell the ring. Fortunately, I haven't got a lot of use for it. I suppose you might as well keep it. If- er, that is, once you make it back to your own dimension, the magic will wear off and the ring will return here. Consider it... a loan."
"Cool," said Joe, now wearing two artifacts from the Marvel Universe. If he kept this up, he could get to be a first-class superhero. I wonder if I could get my hands on a spare set of Iron Man's armor....
"If that is all, gentlemen? I have business to attend to. I wish you the best of luck, but I must be going." With those words, Dr. Strange stepped out of the library. Joe, Kyle, and Charles traded glances, then began to follow. They stepped out of the library...
...And back on to the street. Joe opened his pack of cigarettes, frowned as he noticed how few were left, then lit his second-to-last cigarette. "Well guys, what now?"