The Big Fall
They all just kept falling. My brother fell first. Tony fell. Marla and Vince. And little Stevie. They kept falling and all I could do was just stand there and watch. Helpless.
With my brother, I was able to overcome my crippling fear and lean over and look. He sat there at the bottom, holding and rubbing his right ankle. "Could have been worse" I thought as he waived at me to show he was alright.
But the others? I have no idea. And that's when I started feeling scared. Terrified. I heard much later that Marla got married and had a son. The whole family left the country and moved to Istanbul. Or was it Innsville? A world away, in any case.
My brother made it too. His ankle is fine, but his head... He's got these...things...in his head. My God, things beyond me and most people. Things to make one terrified if one thinks about them too much. Was it the fall did this to him?
I'm not so terrified anymore though. Scared yes, but not terrified. I can lean over. And people don't fall anymore. No body falls.
And Marla, I hope you're alright, wherever you are. And all the rest of you too.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Brief Ten
Angus
His aim was excellent. The yellow liquid projected from the balcony shot straight out at first and seemed to hover suspended in mid air for a few milliseconds before spilling on the crowd below like warm rain. Angus Deville pulled his pants up and took a step back from the railing. He leaned back against the window and giggled as he listened to the angry screams and cursing drifting up from the street. I watched from the safety of the shadow the awning cast over our balcony which was one story above and to the left of the Devilles.
He must have felt my eyes on him as he looked up at me grinning. His voice was hushed but the threat loud and clear. “You didn’t fucking see anything, yeah?!” I shook my head. He waived his fist at me and disappeared inside the apartment. I wasn’t about to rat on Angus. Not if I wanted to remain in one piece. Plus, I had no desire whatsoever to discuss anything with Angus’s parents. The Devilles were the outcasts of our neighborhood. We hardly saw Mr. Deville as he was always away on “business” trips as Father used to say finger-quoting in the air. And as for the Missis, she was always too busy entertaining different sorts of shady gentlemen up in the apartment, loud music and her shrieking laughter drifting through the corridors. Every time she saw me she always said the same thing. “Hey Leo, boy you’re growing up so fast…Have you seen Angus?” And I used to say, “Hi Mrs. Deville. No, I haven’t, sorry Mrs. Deville” .
Truth was I knew where Angus was most of the time. I knew who he hung out with and what they were up to. But Angus was my friend and I was clearly instructed by him to not reveal any information to his folks. He used to go off sometimes with his “buddies” as he used to call them and I never saw him for days. And then he’d come back with a new bicycle or tape player or a pair of roller skates. I never asked any questions for Angus didn’t like being questioned and it made him mad and when Angus got mad, Angus used his fists. And he was good at that.
I always hoped Angus would get tired and bored of his buddies and their little games, but as the years passed and he got older, the games got bigger and more dangerous and Angus got in deeper and deeper. I went off to school and lost touch with Angus for years. Then one day word came. My father told me over the phone.
Angus was shot nine times in the chest and head in front of his wife as he sat in his driveway in his Porsche Cayenne. He was pronounced dead on the scene. People always said Angus would end up this way and no one was really too surprised.
Maybe we all make our own destiny, maybe we all make our own choices, or maybe, just maybe, we all need someone sometimes to hear our cry for help even when we ourselves do not. Maybe if I told Mr. Deville about Angus urinating from the balcony that day, maybe I could have changed the course of his life somehow. Maybe.
Rest in peace Angus.
His aim was excellent. The yellow liquid projected from the balcony shot straight out at first and seemed to hover suspended in mid air for a few milliseconds before spilling on the crowd below like warm rain. Angus Deville pulled his pants up and took a step back from the railing. He leaned back against the window and giggled as he listened to the angry screams and cursing drifting up from the street. I watched from the safety of the shadow the awning cast over our balcony which was one story above and to the left of the Devilles.
He must have felt my eyes on him as he looked up at me grinning. His voice was hushed but the threat loud and clear. “You didn’t fucking see anything, yeah?!” I shook my head. He waived his fist at me and disappeared inside the apartment. I wasn’t about to rat on Angus. Not if I wanted to remain in one piece. Plus, I had no desire whatsoever to discuss anything with Angus’s parents. The Devilles were the outcasts of our neighborhood. We hardly saw Mr. Deville as he was always away on “business” trips as Father used to say finger-quoting in the air. And as for the Missis, she was always too busy entertaining different sorts of shady gentlemen up in the apartment, loud music and her shrieking laughter drifting through the corridors. Every time she saw me she always said the same thing. “Hey Leo, boy you’re growing up so fast…Have you seen Angus?” And I used to say, “Hi Mrs. Deville. No, I haven’t, sorry Mrs. Deville” .
Truth was I knew where Angus was most of the time. I knew who he hung out with and what they were up to. But Angus was my friend and I was clearly instructed by him to not reveal any information to his folks. He used to go off sometimes with his “buddies” as he used to call them and I never saw him for days. And then he’d come back with a new bicycle or tape player or a pair of roller skates. I never asked any questions for Angus didn’t like being questioned and it made him mad and when Angus got mad, Angus used his fists. And he was good at that.
I always hoped Angus would get tired and bored of his buddies and their little games, but as the years passed and he got older, the games got bigger and more dangerous and Angus got in deeper and deeper. I went off to school and lost touch with Angus for years. Then one day word came. My father told me over the phone.
Angus was shot nine times in the chest and head in front of his wife as he sat in his driveway in his Porsche Cayenne. He was pronounced dead on the scene. People always said Angus would end up this way and no one was really too surprised.
Maybe we all make our own destiny, maybe we all make our own choices, or maybe, just maybe, we all need someone sometimes to hear our cry for help even when we ourselves do not. Maybe if I told Mr. Deville about Angus urinating from the balcony that day, maybe I could have changed the course of his life somehow. Maybe.
Rest in peace Angus.
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