The Secret Life of Walter Mitty Alternate Ending

Traverse

The next morning Walter woke to the sound of his phone ringing. He looked at the clock, it was 3 A.M. He tried to ignore it and fall back asleep, but it just kept ringing. He finally rolled over, sat up, and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Yes, Mr. Mitty?"

"Speaking," Walter replied.

"I don't have any time, if you're interested be at the north end of Central Park in an hour. Don't tell anyone where you're going or that you received this call. Bring your passport and nothing else." Then the line went dead. The man's voice had sounded calm and collected, not nearly as cryptic as his message. The offer sounded intriguing

Just a week ago this message was the type of thing that Walter could only imagine receiving. Now, his life was completely different. He still hadn't had much time to process all that had happened in the past week. A week ago, Walter would have been terrified after receiving such a cryptic message. Now, the fluttering inside his stomach was only excitement. He knew that he could handle whatever this new adventure would throw at him. He was ready.

He got up, dressed, and grabbed his passport and ID. He was tempted to bring more, money, more clothes, a backpack, something else, but the voice on the phone had clearly said to bring his passport only. He walked to the kitchen to leave Cheryl a note. He made sure not to mention the phone call or where he was going. He simply said he had found a lead on a new job.

Walter walked out the door and hailed a cab. He told the driver where to go, but made sure not to mention the exact place the man said to go. He had the driver drop him off a few blocks away from where he really meant to go so that if anyone were to ask the drive where he had dropped him off, they would not be immediately tipped off as to where he went. Considering how secretive the voice on the phone had been, Walter was pretty sure that whoever had called him expected the same degree of secretiveness from him.

Once the cab arrived, he got out and began walking away from Central Park, then after a few blocks circled back and walked toward the park on a different street. He arrived at the park and meandered for a bit until he found a park bench. He sat and read a newspaper that he found lying on the bench. He scanned the first few pages, looking for something to read. It was still dark outside but by the light of the street light above him, he could just make out the words on the page. He scanned until he saw a title for a story that read "Life Magazine Goes Out with Bang". He began to read it. He read a few lines in. The article was talking about his former employer's last print edition and the epic cover that he was featured in and that had led him on his adventures of the last week. He read until he came across a strange sentence. It appeared as though it had been typed with the original print, but the words were so out of place in the paragraph. The article was just mentioning the cover of the last edition and Sean's epic photo, when the story suddenly cut out and the print said "Look up. Walk toward the black car." then cut right back to talking about the cover.

Walter did as the newspaper said. He looked up. There was indeed a black car, waiting by the curb. He got up and began to walk toward the car. When he got closer, the back driver side door opened and a man stuck his head out.

"Mr. Mitty, please get in."

Walter did not even hesitate. He got into the car. Once inside and the door closed, the driver began to drive. The man beside him was middle aged and balding. He was wearing a suit. If Walter had seen him walking on the street, he would not have looked twice at him. He looked like a normal New Yorker.

"So, going to fill me in anytime soon?" Walter asked.

"Soon. Please no questions until we arrive."

So Walter just sat and waited. He could not see anything out of the tinted windows. When they finally arrived, someone opened the door for him, but before he could take in any of his surroundings he was hurried into a building and up a flight of stairs. Once he was in the room, he was showed a seat at a large conference table. There were several other people there as well, all busy working on laptops and talking on telephones. It looked like a normal newsroom, much like the offices at Life, but a lot shabbier.

Walter sat at his seat for a few minutes, observing the bustling room, until a young man, in his mid-20s, came over and shook his hand. The man was tall and wore a wide brimmed fedora, tight dark brown cargo pants, a tan and burnt orange colored button up shirt, and tan suede shoes. He was the type of guy you'd expect to see on the cover of a travel magazine, or hiking through some distant, exotic land.

"Mr. Mitty?" he asked, "I'm Søren, it's nice to finally meet you." He spoke with a slight accent, and by his name, Walter guessed that he was Norwegian, or maybe Swedish. "I'm sorry for all of the secrecy, but we run a tight, quite secretive ship around here."

"What is this place?" asked Walter.

"This, is Traverse Magazine."

"Traverse Magazine!" Now Walter understood all of the precautions and secrecy. Traverse Magazine was the premier travel magazine. It had only started three years ago, but it had skyrocketed to the top of the charts in all media form charts since then. They published a print magazine, but also had a massive online and social media presence. They were touted as the next best thing in media. They were modern and edgy in their business plan in that they did not only focus solely on one media outlet, but attacked at all angles. Their content was amazing as well. They were a travel magazine, but not in the traditional sense. They did not provide city guides for traveling with kids, or a day trip guide to Denver. Instead, Traverse magazine specialized in writing about extreme traveling, things taking a six month expedition up to the summit of mount Kilimanjaro, completing the entire Appalachian trail, or living with native peoples in Papua New Guinea or Angola for a year. They were famous for sending their writers and photographers on epic adventures around the world, sometimes for years at a time. They were also very secretive. No one new where their office was located, or where they printed from, or who the editor was. They were known for being extremely selective, only the best staff, the most renowned adventurers, writers, and photographers were allowed to join the club. They could not be contacted. If they wanted you, they would contact you. And they had just contacted Walter.

"Yes, that's us," Søren replied, "your friend, Sean O'Connell, told us about the work you did with him, quite impressive. Not many people have done what you have. Well I don't have any time to waste, so let's get down to it. We want you. We want to send you out on assignment. We think you'd be a perfect fit for our publication."

"What did you have in mind?" Walter had decided to play it cool and not let on how excited and terrified he was. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Of course Sean works here, I should have known, he thought.

"We have one idea, it just came up. We want to send a team to travel the silk road, from start to finish, on foot, with nothing but what would have been available to a merchant in the 12th century. This means that you'll be walking mostly. The magazine will pay for all expenses, obviously. We already have a team assembled, two photographers, two writers, now all we need is a professional adventurer, someone up to any task, who can guide the group and handle any situation that may come their way. We thought that you'd be a good fit for this assignment.

"As it turns out, I just finished with a project, so I am currently without obligations," Walter didn't think before he replied. He knew that if he thought about it too much, he might chicken out, and that was the last thing that he wanted. He did not want to lose this opportunity.

"Great, come meet the team, you'll be flying out tomorrow."