Engaged in Riddles

Alice felt a twinge of suspicion from the start. Their big London trip finally came, and Michael insisted on spending the first full day on activities from her wish list. That meant afternoon tea at Twinings, How You Like It at The Globe Theatre, then pints and people-watching at a two hundred-year-old pub.

Michael put on a good face throughout: eye contact, bright smile, consistent enthusiasm, plus supreme politeness with the servers and ushers. He must have tipped every street performer they passed, even the living statue. But Alice knew him well enough to see that his full attention was somewhere else. Behind Michael’s soft green eyes, his brain churned away on some future plan he wouldn’t share. 

And her suspicion grew as they got on the Tube late that night. “Tomorrow we’ll have to do only things you want to do,” she told him. Michael loved English culture, from Sherlock Holmes to Monty Python, so she fully expected him to leap into his list headfirst. Yet his reply was cryptic:

“I’m hoping to visit at least one museum,” he said with a sly smile,  “but we can talk about it in the morning.

She couldn’t get annoyed at his enigmatic attitude, as the day had been as magical as she could have ever wished. Even still, the back of her mind knew he was plotting something. Yet when they got back to the hotel, made love, fell asleep next to each other, she found herself too tired and too satisfied to ponder the issue any further. That night, Alice dreamed of the River Thames, crisscrossed by thousands of strange bridges which she ran across and bounded between.

In the morning, Michael wasn’t beside her. This was not a huge surprise, as it was past nine AM and she always slept more soundly than him on the road. And Michael never could turn down a continental breakfast. 

Alice rose and put on jeans and a dressy black blouse while considering whether she’d go looking for the breakfast cart or seek out something more substantial. Then she noticed the pair of laminated cards, printed in a distinctive font, on the bureau. They were bone white and hard to miss, with bold, stark lettering.

She read the first:

Where should you go?

The Absolute Number

Followed by Baba's Gang less two score

Finally luck or wonders

Then she read the second:

With whom should you speak?

To get to where you need

Be strong, be brave, be smart

Or quick unto the deed

Not lost right at the start

To find just where I wait

Be attuned to your fate

Alice recognized immediately that Michael had left her two riddles. She had promised Michael that this day belonged to him, so she took no issue if he wanted to spend it on a whimsical game. He used to run a puzzle column for his local paper back in Maryland, and they loved collaborating on the New York Times crossword. And he was always inventing riddles for their nieces and nephews, though he’d never written any expressly for her. Surely these clues would lead her straight to him and some adventure he’d always wanted to take. 

She took the cards with her to breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant, where she ordered a platter of eggs, mushrooms and tomatoes; light enough for a quest, but still thoroughly British. 

“You look like you’ve got something interesting there,” the tall waitress with the bright smile said. “Is that poetry?”

“And something more besides. A riddle my boyfriend left me.”

"Sounds like fun."

"Yes I hope so."

Alice considered the riddles. She assumed they couldn’t be too elaborate because Michael wouldn’t risk being separated all day if she failed to solve them. She held up the shorter riddle, it appeared to be all about numbers. And the title read “Where should you go?” Maybe the solution was an address. 

So starting with the first line: what was “The Absolute Number”? One? Or is that the loneliest number? Infinity? Ten as in “ten out of ten?” Or maybe zero: absolute zero.

The second line, what’s “Baba’s gang”? Baba Yaga didn’t have a gang. Ali Baba and the forty thieves, perhaps. “Less two score”: a score is twenty, so two score is forty. Does Baba’s Gang count himself? So forty-one minus forty? Or forty minus forty? So either one or zero.

The final line: luck or wonders. Lucky as in lucky sevens, and wonders as in seven wonders of the world. She could think of no other reference.

So three lines, three numbers. Possibilities: 107, 117… 007. A reference to James Bond perhaps, so not an address at all. Michael wasn’t the biggest Bond fan but he loved over-the-top villain monologues. The riddle came with a question: “Where should you go?” With an answer of James Bond. Maybe she was meant to visit a movie set, or a famous filming location. Cryptic indeed…

Then Michael’s odd phrasing from the previous night drifted into her head: “I’m hoping to visit at least one museum.” Alice turned on her phone to see if the search function might help, and discovered that Michael had sent her a message thirty minutes ago. “Hope you’re having a good morning. Let me know if you need any help. :)”

“I’m working some things out. Will find you later,” she wrote back. There was no way she was going to ask for a hint. 

Instead, she turned to the search bar. She typed “London James Bond Museum.” The first link revealed that, just this season, there was a James Bond exhibit at The London Film Museum. That had to be it. Her mind lit up with the thought of following a string of riddles into the heart of London, with her boyfriend waiting at the end of it.

“Did you get good news love? You’re beaming from ear-to-ear,” the waitress asked when she brought Alice’s check. 

“I think so,” Alice replied. She left a big tip.

* * *

Alice’s heart raced as she boarded the Tube yet again. She felt like a schoolgirl, like she was free to explore a big city for the first time. On the journey, she checked over the second riddle. 

She’d found the answer to this one almost immediately, as if it were tuned just for her. It was a poem, not quite Shakespearean, but the poetry was a distraction from a simple solution. She wasn’t sure how to use that solution yet, but her confidence grew that she’d be able to impress the man she loved.

Her enthusiasm flagged when she arrived at the museum, a stately red and yellow brick building just off a popular commercial square. The crowd was considerable, with stalls and street performers set up all along the sidewalk. If Michael was nearby she wasn’t sure she’d notice him.

The Film Museum had the look of elegant age, and a suitable place to meet for a romantic rendezvous. But the queue to get in was long, and mostly occupied by people who’d reserved a time slot. Alice quickly learned that, even if she made an appointment now, she wouldn’t get in for a couple hours. And she could hardly imagine Michael awkwardly sitting around a museum exhibit for so long. He’d find some place more intimate.

There must be something else. Alice thought back to the second riddle, the poem that asked the question “With whom should you speak?” The rhyme was a distraction from the solution: simply take the first word of each line and you get perhaps the most famous phrase in the English language: “To be or not to be.” So she was meant to talk to… Shakespeare? Hamlet?

Alice scanned the crowd, then moved to the outer edge of the square to view things from a distance. Her eyes passed over families, couples, even one tourist dressed in a tux, clearly a Bond superfan. 

Her gaze moved to vendors selling food and trinkets: little flags, jewelry, salted beef, lamb soup. There was a man with a guitar, a woman with a violin, and a living statue. Street performers! She was looking for someone Shakespearean, maybe among the street performers.

She cut around the edge of the square, keeping her eyes peeled for thespians. She wasn’t sure who exactly to look for, but she knew him when she saw him. He was clearly an actor, dressed head-to-toe in black, perhaps drawing inspiration from Kenneth Branagh’s Hamlet. He even had a mop of blonde hair to match. 

Alice noticed how erect the actor stood, his legs together and feet splayed at a ninety degree angle. He was reciting something for a small audience, and when she drew close she realized it was Hamlet’s first soliloquy, the “solid flesh” speech as she knew it. She stood at the back of the gathering as this Hamlet finished the recitation to modest applause, though one couple gave a cheer of “hurrah.”

She approached, placed twenty pounds in the actor’s doffed cap, and met his gaze directly. “That was wonderful,” she said.

The actor squinted at her, as if trying to match her brown eyes and dark hair to a description in his head. “My name is Alice,” she said. “May I ask your name?”

“Hamlet, Prince of Denmark,” he said, not breaking character. He offered his hand, which she took. He bowed low, and kissed her hand. She giggled.

“I have a special recitation for you, if I may.”

“Absolutely.”

He cleared his throat, then began:

“A ring surrounds and binds the finest folk

A toll for those who love yet let love fall

And cheers from clappers clapping finely

Loom large from towers built on trust and faith”

Alice listened closely to this third riddle, which surely would point her to where she needed to go next. But then she noticed Hamlet’s eyes turn upward, to something high up behind her. It was only for a second, but it felt telling considering how focused his performance had otherwise been.

“I’m prepared to repeat the phrasing, if you wish.”

“Ah I…” Alice had lost concentration on the words when she noticed him glance past her. “One moment.”

She turned around and brought her eyes skyward. The belltower of an old church poked out over the intervening roofs. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed. She pointed to the church. “You mentioned a clapper didn’t you… and a tower and a toll. Is that it?”

“And a ring as well,” he bowed again. “I commend you. Your speed of mind must admit discourse with your beauty.”

“I think it was mostly luck. I just turned around and there it was. Thank you so much!” 

Hamlet smiled, and Alice returned his smile. She placed another twenty pounds in his cap before she hurried off, wondering how one of fiction’s most tragic figures had just made her so happy. And she wondered how Michael had gone about hiring an actor for this game. He must have been planning it for some time.

The church was mostly empty when Alice entered, just a couple of people in the pews, praying silently. Alice wasn’t sure who she should be looking for. The previous riddle seemed to point toward the belltower, but she would feel awkward walking straight to the back of the church to find the stairwell. Perhaps Michael would emerge at any moment.

Hamlet’s words echoed in her head: “And a ring as well…” Suddenly Alice was breathing hard. This was their first big trip. Michael had been so accommodating yet somehow distant the day before. Now this surprising adventure, this trail of riddle breadcrumbs. And he’d clearly put so much time and effort into it, while keeping it all hidden from her. Yet she hadn’t considered til this moment that he might be waiting on one knee with a ring at the ready. The possibility struck her heart like a gong.

Alice heard footsteps to her right. She looked over and saw an older woman turn and smile at her from a transept. Alice approached and introduced herself. The older woman started giggling, but she took Alice’s offered hand, and introduced herself as Margaret, custodian for the church.

“May I ask you, is there a man up in the bell tower?”

“May be ma’am. May be.”

“Does he have… did he bring any jewelry up with him?”

“Certainly rings a bell, if you catch my meaning.”

The two of them held eye contact for many moments. Finally Alice spoke again: “Would you be willing to help me with a little plan?”

“Oh, I like the sound of that.”

* * *

Michael checked his watch again. He’d been trying to concentrate on the London Times Crossword, to keep his mind on anything but the moment he’d already rehearsed in his head so many times. But it was no good, he couldn’t keep his thoughts away from imagining best or worst case scenarios. He really could have used someone to talk to, but his only company was the big, iron bell, and it wasn’t talking.

He considered what he’d do if Alice showed up looking miserable, like she hadn’t had any fun at all. He simply wouldn’t propose then, he’d slip the ring back in his pocket and wait for a better opportunity. He’d say that the riddles were just a bit of fun, and that he just wanted to explore south London together. 

Alternately, what if Alice failed to solve the riddles? She wouldn’t want him to send her a clue. But what if she came to the wrong answers: she could be heading in the opposite direction even now. There was a risk that they’d miss a whole day of the trip, and that he’d throw off the whole mood. And she’d been so happy last night. Maybe he should message her-

Suddenly steps on the stairwell. He grasped for the ring. He’d left it in a box on the floor beside his chair, thinking it better to have it quick to hand then in his pocket where he might struggle to fetch it elegantly when the time came.

“Oh, Margaret,” he said as the custodian he’d met earlier popped up the final stairs. “I thought Alice had come already.”

“Don’t worry sir. Don’t worry. I just thought I should sweep up here real quick. If you want to impress this lady, you’ll want things nice and tidy. Plus I should empty that dustbin. Now where is it? Did you move it sir?”

“I don’t remember seeing one, what color was it?”

“Oh, sort of a maroon I think. Maybe on the other side of the bell. Would you help me look sir, it will only take a minute. Oh, maybe it’s in the bell itself, wouldn’t that be something if it got wedged in there somehow.” 

Margaret laughed, and under most circumstances Michael would have laughed along with her as he circled the bell, helping her search for the mysterious dustbin. But either way, he failed to see through what she was up to and he was thoroughly distracted.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but Alice could be along any minute and I’m hoping for a yes as you might imagine and-”

“The answer is yes.” A whisper behind him. A voice he knew so well. Alice had tip-toed up the stairs while his attention had been diverted. 

He turned to meet her. He was struck dumb in that moment, but his smile spoke of amusement and perplexity and relief and joy. Alice met his green eyes with her brown ones.

“I had to prove I could be just as tricky as you. If we’re to be married, that’ll be important.”

“Oh. So the answer is yes? You said that right?”

She nodded. 

“May I still go through with the ceremony of it all?”

She nodded again.

So Michael knelt, and presented the ring. And Alice said yes in her most formal tone of voice. And they kissed and embraced and basked in their love for each other.

Margaret suppressed an urge to coo in delight.