VI
Naublus eventually tumbled into the train tracks, still rhythmically blurting out, "Wassup! Wassup! Wassup! Wassup!" His head jerked back and forth, and green, foamy pus started to ooze from his ears. He jangled uncontrollably on the tracks, like a Parkinson's-ridden hand, until his companion Snazy took charge of the situation.
"Alright, everyone, make a chain of four.
We'll pull him out of that dungeon horror!"
A 40-something year-old man in a red bandana, a 19-year-old girl, and a seven-foot giant who seemed to span all ages, joined hands with Snazy. She dove into the tracks, still hanging on to the chain, and she jostled her way to Naublus' scarred arm. She grabbed hold, and up and out they went, back to safety. It was such a close call that Lady Liberty almost shit her pants. Which would've made the situation worse because she would not have been able to rescue Naublus.
But Snazy was there, and she was all Naublus ever needed.
She skipped away to find her love. She never came back.
Naublus forgot all about her, and he went back to his spinning -- his mental spinning, that is. Down he went, riding the grey, rusted-iron spiral that moved up and down, like a cow-milking machine. Oh Naublus, why again? Why this needless anguish that only shreds your heart? Naublus began to sob. He went on for the next three hours, until about 8:00 p.m.. His head shrunk a couple of inches because of the sadness draining out of him. A smaller head, but feeling oh so much better.
Tap, tap, tip, tap, tap, tip, tip. His ears deceived him, Naublus thought. No, it was not rain. Diamonds. Diamonds! Naublus had not bathed in a diamond shower since he was a little girl in his homeland. He ran out, giddy and slobbering with excitement, into the United States of America. The diamonds tapped on his skin, stuck to it, didn't fall. On his shoulders, diamonds. On the tops of his feet, diamonds. On his tongue, diamonds. He needed more. He slid into a puddle, filling his whole being with the glimmering beauty. Oh, the satisfaction, the satiation, the fulfillment! The grey sun's light made the diamonds look like demon-fairies. They had come to rescue him from his depression. They lasted a lifetime.
Five minutes. One second. Three half-seconds. A century. The diamonds flattened out into cardboard circles. Covered in them was Naublus. Drowning in cardboard was Naublus. He thought about the murdered trees. Slashed trunks, branches made into dust. Sap spilling everywhere, baptizing the forest with the sins of industry. He flailed his arms outward, grunting a scream, ripping the cardboard off his body (it was everywhere).
"What the hell? You did not just bump into me! You did not--just bump--into ME!" A woman with a sun dress and an expression to match it was clouded by Naublus, a cloudy man himself. It was time to rain on her little parade.
Feverishly, gone mad, Naublus asked the simple question:
"Where the diamonds went?"
2 comments:
The sun had not yet bloomed when Elizabeth left her apartment. She hadn't slept well since she'd received the letter. What would have appeared gratifying to most, sat crumpled on the floor beside the wall at present. It was a stain of her past that needed to go. As Elizabeth reached for the piece of parchment, it all came rushing back — the anxiety, the anger, the remorse, the fear, the love, the despair, and the hope. A tear rolled down her cheek as she went out the door. A tear for what she could not tell. Only the need for fresh air and a stroll was known. After a single glance out the window, her plan was shattered. A thunderstorm was raging outside, blowing the trees like mere wheat stalks in the wind. Elizabeth turned back to grab a sweatshirt before she headed for the stairs. It was almost meditative now — the climb down the stairs. She'd learned to appreciate it, especially when it was raining, and slow down. With each step it was as if she was falling into serenity again. A serenity previously lost and now gained. It wasn't the book that made her loose her it. It wasn't even Malcolm or that dude in the shadows. It was her inability to be satisfied with herself — with her decisions. That's why she hated writing the novel. She hated having to relive every moment she regretted. But as she descended the stairs, she finally realized that she never took the time to look the good consequences among the bad. She had been so focused on the steps of despair that she didn't think to give the wicked things in life a chance.
'Like having a guardian shadow,' Elizabeth thought, smiling. She didn't know his name or purpose, only that he seemed to have been watching her back since she arrived in Washington Heights. 'You can't get that in San Francisco. It's too ...' She didn't know. She'd never experienced anything like Washington Heights before. It was ...
The rain appeared to have stopped as the sun began to shine through the window of the fifth floor. She threw the letter in the platform's trash bin before she sped down the remaining flights. Life was finally calling again. She would no longer hide from the world to cower in the past. She would live with a lesson learned — to never give up on passion and chase whatever called her.
A shattering crash reverberated through the streets. Elizabeth broke into a sprint as she passed the chasm of smoke and shadows where she once gave lunch to a man, later learned to be Naublus Croseman. The memory of his astonished face flew from her mind as she came upon Grandma Pearl. Sirens began to echo from streets beyond. She was standing over a tree branch, or was it ....
"Oh my god," Elizabeth whispered as she arrived at her side. Grandma Pearl wasn't just standing over a tree branch, she was standing over a body.
"Kind of ironic, isn't it?" Grandma Pearl asked as she held a page of the newspaper.
As Elizabeth looked from the circled add to the body, a hand covered her mouth as she gasped. This man. The man under the branch. The dead man. He was the man in the shadows, whose protecting presence was lost.
"I know him," she whispered to herself.
Her guardian shadow lost forevermore. As the sun continued to rise, Fil's peacefully mangled body fell deeper and deeper into the shadow of the tree. It was ...
Tragically beautiful.
Go to the Mirror!
After his evening stroll, which he took now that Maria could look over the Bakery, even though she did a piss poor job of it, Holger saw some crazy guy who was dancing around, jumping in puddles and, just making a complete fool of himself. Holger saw this loony crackpot fool before. His name was Nebulator or Neb or Ned....something like that. However, as the night continued, Holger went back home to sleep. Afterall he had a busy day the next day. Just like everyday.
Holger woke up at the usual time the next morning...As he went about his normal routine, something felt different. The some bullethole-sized, blood-stained, dough bites were still decorating the floor. The counter was still sticky with the same unknown substance as before. Maria was still a leere Flasche. What changed?
As Holger walked outside, he discovered what was different. The sky, which normally had dark gray clouds completely covering continuous areas, was a nice Bavarian Blue. The sun was shining. God must be happy. Bush probably resigned. And Cheney, too. Why else would the weather become nice after years of natural disasters since January, 2001?
Holger brought his cane and hat and went for a nice walk. After stopping to light his pipe, he turned to look at one of those scratched mirrors next to the movie billboards at the bus stop. As he looked in the mirror, Holger saw a body lying on the ground near the oak tree.
Spontaneously, Holger broke out in some songs he remembered that would fit the situation. Some of what he sang went like this: "Who are you? Tell me who are you?" and "He seems to be completely unreceptive.The tests I gave him show no sense at all. I often wonder what he's feeling.Has he ever heard a word I've said?Look at him now in the mirror dreaming. What is happening in his head? I wish I knew." Ahhhh...remembering those days with the good music made Holger have a great day. Not so much for the kid though.
Post a Comment