Tight Ropes

This story was originally written on July 7, 2008. This is the first time it has been publicly published and has received no changes since originally written.

            The people stood around, watching and waiting for the act to start. A man was to walk a rope, tightly nonetheless, across a giant fountain. The crew was harnessed in, holding the ropes for his long rope- they didn’t want him to die. At least, that’s what the final report said.

            Guards stood at all ends, as there was in fact no net or way to save him and if something went wrong they’d have to quickly rush him to the hospital. His name? Why does it matter? Call him John Doe. John Hancock. Hancock Malkovich. Who the fuck cares?

            Word was, though, that this John Hancock Malkovich owed someone money. Big money. Had to do this stunt to earn it, and it wasn’t even going to be enough.

            And oh, the people he owed? Was already on it. They wanted to make sure everything looked just fine for this stunt. After all, his father had done it close to 40 years earlier and it wasn’t like he didn’t know how to. Except he really didn’t know how to, and had only practiced for the last few months in order to prepare.

            And they knew this. They set up the perimeter knowing this.

            “Perimeter is clear in F1,” a clerk standing at an outside cart said into his watch.

            “Check, F2 clear,” another said, holding his hand to the side of his nose.

            “B1 clear,” one said, while yawning.

            “B2 dub fub fin.”

            They started announcing his start, and then quieted down as he walked across. Nobody cared as they walked right past the people holding the ropes steady, breezing them and hoping they’d slip and make the guy fall to his untimely death. But, that’s not what the final report said.

            He moved across the first part fairly quickly, moving towards the F1 clerk. Seemed good. No, it was good. All was good.

            “We have movement,” the F1 clerk said, “tall, dark and asshole.”

            “I have visual confirmation,” F2 said, touching the side of his sunglasses, “clear for weapons.”

            John Hancock Malkovitch was in the middle of his stunt now, his pot belly not stopping him from his accomplishment and the thought of debts being paid off dancing across his mind. The crew held steady, it had been 15 minutes, and the clerks still were selling and scouring the crowd of careless people.

            Three out of four of the way there, commonly known as three fourths. Beauty, it was, as the sky was gray with the threat of rain and a random thunderbolt came crashing down- at least in bystanders’ minds- to take care of this daredevil.

            “I hope he falls!” some of them yelled, to make sure he heard. Maybe he’d then fall.

            “I’m not sure if I’m going to watch or not if he falls,” a manager said to a clerk, who said they were watching and loved the sight of blood. Especially because the children would freak out, be scarred for the rest of their life, and he’d get a kick out of it all. Especially if he fell right in front of him and the blood splattered.

            “I just want to see this fountain turn red with blood, so we can go home after it’s all over,” the clerk said.

            “We have movement,” clerk B2 said as he started moving towards the guy and touching his sunglasses to assure there was no weapon. He was clean, but they were interested in something else.

            “I have a bogey near you F2,” an ominous voice transmitted to all of them.

            “Searching,” he said looking around, “Nothing detected. What’s going on?”

            Within seconds a couple of kids walked by bouncing a basketball. A carriage on the other side of the street had a crying baby in it, ready for lunch. A man at the front gate looked into the park to see our John Malkovitch falling off. All he could hear was a dud, and hundreds of people freaking out.

            The F1 clerk quickly shut down his area and got people to move away from the sides to make room for the rescuers. The crew just stood there still holding the rope, frozen in position. At least all but one, who had fallen to the ground. They were unsure if it was before or after he fell though.

            He was still alive, luckily, and quickly was put on a stretcher. He gave a broken thumbs up as he was brought along the crowd. Two shots rang out killing him. The four clerks hit their sunglasses and scanned.

            Then more shots.

            “I see hi-“ F1 was shot.

            “Where’s his loc-“ F2 was shot.

            “Guys?” B1 was shot.

            “He’s nearby, I’ve got sight!” but B2 was already shot before he started to even try running.

            The big banner with John Malkovitch’s name on it fell down. Below it was graffiti that said “DON’T MESS WITH US.”

            A man in a baseball cap with two kids left through metal detectors. Nothing went off. Probably because they didn’t have a gun. At least, that’s what the final report said.

My Death

I was 27 at the time. Single. I had a few dates here and there, but really didn't come to mean much of anything. A fling and nothing more. I worked in a school as a substitute teacher because I couldn't find a job in my career I went to college for. I decided to go back for my masters so I could teach college kids courses in creative writing. Having a few books published helped pay the bills too.

My friends were all off somewhere else. My best friend in high school wound up married to a guy I never thought she'd wind up married to. They had a two year old son at the time when it happened. He called me his uncle. I hope I had an impact in his life.

My other best friends? They were all doing well. One had just landed a job as a professor of history at a nice local college. The same one he and I graduated from. Another was teaching high school. He had married and had a son- despite his saying he'd never have kids. It changed him. I don't really know if it's for better or worse. His son is 3 and just starting to play video games with his dad. It's pretty adorable.

Others aren't so lucky. One wanted to go back to school and be an accomplished professor. He's struggling now to deal with it all. No one will hire him, and he sees no escaping living at home. Another made sure to get out, but is no better off- going from job to job and girl to girl. Flings here and there. Nothing substantial.

So many of my friend's have kids now. Are married. I don't regret the life path I took, really. It was the one I was meant to. Both of us were meant to die.

My cousin had just moved here from New Jersey after graduating from college. Him and me got an apartment together. He had a lot of girls over. I helped him at the local bars, and he sometimes got a friend for me. It was better than nothing.

I didn't drink. Never believed in it. Never believed in much, though. God was a figurehead created by humans to ensure they would live on forever. I was half-right. Maybe a third right.

But my cousin knew I was let down by another job offer gone bad. He took me to the bar, and made me drink one beer. I'll admit, I was depressed- another reason why I didn't drink. Hell, he didn't drink really either but he insisted we did. He had just lost his job he had gotten two months prior. So we drank our sorrows away.

Maybe I should've said no to another beer, but I liked the buzz. So did he. So we drank. We were light weights. Three beers later, we were toasted. They kicked us out. I knew it was a bad idea, but we got into my cousin's car and he began driving. I passed out. I wasn't dead yet.

An hour later we were still driving. We hadn't crashed. I woke up and asked him where we were. He didn't answer me.

"You know how much pain I'm always in?" he said to me. I told him I didn't know. How was I to know how much pain he was in?

"You never knew. You never understood how much shit I'm always going through. You're a fuckin' author. What the fuck am I?" I could tell he was crying. We had both sobered up a little. I didn't know how long we hadn't drank, really, but I was sober enough to understand the situation.

I told him he was an up and coming computer guy. I didn't remember what he did. He looked up to me, and I knew it. I shouldn't have drank, I thought. We shouldn't have gotten in this car. I didn't know how we had yet to have crashed. I asked him where we were again.

"I don't know. There's a river. We're following a river."

I asked him to pull over. He wouldn't. My head began hurting. My heart began racing. My stomach began to twirl and I vomited in the car. He freaked out.

"What the hell man? This is my car!"

I told him I knew that. I'd pay to clean it up, if he just pulled over. The tears kept coming. He didn't know what to do. He had no control. I yelled at him to pull the fucking car over. He laid his head down on the steering wheel not watching the road.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." he sobbed to me.

The car veered off to the side. I saw it. I knew it was going to happen, but I couldn't stop him. It broke through the railing, went over the side and tumbled down into the river. I hit my head on the dashboard, my cousin hit his on the steering wheel. The car filled up with water.

We drowned.

We had a 20 second news story the next day. Our families and friends were devastated. But we wouldn't see our funerals. We'd be gone. We'd be born again already, this time as brothers. We wouldn't recall this life just as we hadn't recalled the ones before this one. Just as we didn't recall what Heaven was like.

You see, we're angels. Waiting for our return to Heaven once more. Going from life to life hoping it'll be the one that ends well. I wish I could see the next life, but I can only see the ending to this one. That's how I'm telling you it now.

My death is yet to happen.

Phoenix

Flashing light.

The sirens were all I knew. I pulled up to my house- more so just to the side of my house due to it being blocked off, and watched as hoses sprayed it down with water. I knew what had happened, but I was in denial.

"Excuse me, sir- this is my house. What's going on here?"

"Are you Peter Mullenhall?"

"Yes, that's me. What happened to my house?"

"It appears it caught on fire, son."

"How'd it do that?"

"We don't know yet. Fire marshal is inside. He'll tell you when he knows."

"Thank you. Was the fire bad?"

"Son, you have no roof. You barely have a second story, and I would've told the fire marshal to not even bother going in there if it had been me. That place ain't stable."

"So I should get a hotel room, and move on then- eh?"

"Yeah, you have homeowner insurance?"

"Yes sir."

"Once you make a claim you should start looking for a new place to live. Nothing you have was saved. Everything is gone."

Good. I wanted everything to be gone.

"I hate this place. Good thing it's gone. I would've burnt it down myself if I had the chance."

"Would've done what?"

"Thanks officer. I think I'll be going now."

My life was in shambles. The love of my life, Patricia- who I had been with since high school prom in the '80s had left me. We never had kids, I was never able. She always hated me for it, and decided to leave me when she found a man that could knock her up.

"At least his sperm know how to swim!" She yelled that at me when she left the house.

We had bought the house right before our wedding. Moved into it afterwards. What a mistake.

My cousin came to visit, nice kid, a few years ago. Well, it wasn't exactly my cousin- it was my cousin's kid. My actual cousin is a lot closer to my age, and this kid was like, 15 or so. My cousin's wife thought it'd be a good idea to show him what it was like "out in the suburbs" for a month. A month. And Patricia always wanted to try to work with a troubled teen.

I didn't know what "emo" was at the time, but I do now. This house, my bathroom- the one now burnt down on the second floor- is where my cousin slit his wrists. He didn't do it good enough to kill himself, but this is where he started. A cry for attention. We gave him attention, but it wasn't cool enough for him. My bathroom always seemed to have blood on it- his blood- since then.

A week later he'd try to hang himself from a tree in my backyard. I cut down that tree.

Then he overdosed on some pills he found in our cabinet and had to get his stomach pumped. Kid just wouldn't stop trying to die.

He knocked up some poor girl with similar emo tendencies. The kid seemed to make him grow up real fast. Cute kid, just sad he has to live so poor.

And this is where I wrote my novel. When I lost my job and had nothing to do, I wrote a novel. It sucked. No one could get passed this point where two of the characters have gay tendencies toward one another. Bunch of homophobes. But this is where literary agents and the like told me time and time again- this novel was shit. Not "the" shit as some say, but they literally meant shit. As if someone sat down and pooped it out. My dream- my moment of glory- shattered. Right here in this house.

I can't forget the Thanksgiving we had here. The first and last for the family. We haven't had one since then, and a year after my wife and I separated. My family decided to get into a huge argument over my grandma's will. About who was getting what. My grandma sat at the table, telling them to stop fighting- but no one listened.

Then she died that night in her sleep in our guest room. It was horrible, finding your grandma dead and not breathing. My family blamed me, tried to cut me out of her will. It didn't work, but no one has had a Thanksgiving dinner since then.

And this is where my best friend and I ended our relationship too. You see, one issue my ex-wife had was my best friend- Betty. She thought we were getting too close and I'd wind up cheating on her. I had to actually invite her over and tell her I couldn't talk to her anymore because of my wife. I haven't since.

Neither have I spoken with any of my other friends.

And now this place is gone. I can do whatever I want.

I can go live in England for a year now with the money I'll be getting. I can start anew. I like the sound of that.

"Officer, here's my phone number for when you are all done- I'm going to go stay in a hotel tonight. The one on Main Street next to the coffee shop. Just give me a call if anything happens, will you?"

"Will do."

I drive away. Main Street is nice, the hotel is nice. The room I get is nice. It's all just so nice. They'd tell me what happened later.

"Sir this is Officer Dale with the police department calling to tell you the cause of the fire. It appears that your bird hit some electrical wires in the house killing himself and setting himself on fire."

"I don't have a bird."

"Well, some bird caught on fire and burnt to ashes. And if it wasn't yours, I don't know what else to tell you."

Waiting

I waited for her to come pick me up, sitting on the curb in front of my house minding my own business. Cars went by, a gentle breeze in the air as rain was coming in soon. I listened to the birds chirping, the kids playing off in the background. No one could see me, as two cars were parked beside me.

I sat in between them. She knew where I was going to be, or at least I thought she knew.

Cars went by. None were her. I listened to the birds chirp again, then leaned back- letting my hands touch the dirt and grass. They felt wet, despite it not raining while I was awake. I assumed it had rained while I slept.

I let myself balance on my hands, leaning backwards. They dug into the soft, wet dirt and I realized I was going to be dirty now for when she arrived. Maybe it'll come off, I thought to myself.

I looked over and saw the kids playing, with no worries. Running around with a ball. Three little boys- at least at the distance- throwing a ball around. One was younger than the rest, substantially, and would start running around out of nowhere. They weren't sitting on the curb waiting, and worrying like I was.

I kept thinking- she won't come. She's forgotten me. But I knew better. I thought, maybe she can't see me- but I knew better. She'd find me- it's not like it was hard to find me sitting in between the parked cars. I was still visible.

I looked up at the sky to feel a raindrop hit my face. I leaned forward, my hands no longer in the dirt, and moved my hand to wipe it away- only to feel the dirt on my hand touch my face. It had stuck to my hand. I took my sleeve and wiped the spot on my face, only to see a streak of dirt now on my shirt. I started rubbing my hands together, only to find the dirt turning into a mud on my hands.

Then it suddenly began to storm.

Rain came down like a faucet had just turned on, and hit me like no other. I had no time to think, and by the time it did- the rain stopped as soon as it started. I was soaked.

Then I heard a car's horn, beeping. I looked up and saw her there, with a smile on her face- me standing there soaked, clothes now wet and dirty, my hands still with bits of mud on them, my hair dripping and no longer groomed like it was before.

She parked her car and watched as I walked inside. She understood. I had waited for her, she had to wait for me too. She was just hoping I could find her car parked among the others.

The Fated: Episode 2

"Hello, you're WKSB The Hits 18th caller- that means you win!"

"Yay! Ha ha."

"What's your name sweetheart?"

"Erica."

"Well Erica you and a guest will be getting tickets to see Lady Gaga in concert next week, and a fifty dollar gift certificate to Freddy's Bar and Grill located in the downtown metropolitan area."

"Ooo."

"Just let us know- what's your favorite station?"

"97.1 The Hits!"

"And out to the Daughtry song. Clear."

"Thank God. I got time for a cigarette break, Tom?"

"No, after this we go straight to entertainment news and then traffic and commercials."

"God damn it. I could really use a cigarette."

"It's alright Dave, it's only a few more minutes."

"I've just been under a lot of stress."

"I don't know why. You're just helping your neighbor move. She hasn't been there for more than a half a year."

"Eight months."

"Did you even really hang out with her?"

"Never really got a chance. She has a boyfriend in Ohio."

"Ohio? Who the hell leaves Florida to go to Ohio?"

"Nah, he's from Ohio- but it don't matter. He's a jackass, let me tell you that."

"How do you know?"

"Her Facebook."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. OK listen it's not that bad- I've hung out with her with others before in the apartment building. Little get togethers, and I like her OK? I'd love to hang out with her- but it's not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"This new guy who moved in. Scott. Totally her type, and he's moving in fast despite she has a boyfriend."

"Shit, we're back on in 10...5, 4, 3, 2-"

"Great song from Daughtry, now let's get to your E-news. Reports are coming in that J-Lo might be pregnant. Witnesses have claimed she's been seen with a little bump in her belly, but her people have all denied to comment. Actor Russell Crowe's new indie movie is getting rave reviews. He stars as a mental patient in One Last Breath- based on a true story of the abuse of a mental patient right here in Florida. Universal Studios has announced plans to expand the movie into more theaters. And actress Lindsay Lohan back in the news, this time with a new movie underway. No word on what the movie is about, but Sony Pictures and Tim Burton are said to be in talks. That's your latest E-news, now to our Eye in the Sky- Krissy what's the traffic look like?"

"And cut your mic. We're clear. So this douchebag has no morals? Talking it up with a chick who's got someone."

"She's moving out because she's moving in with the boyfriend. But I just have this feeling, ya know? That they're gonna break up and she's gonna wind up with Scott."

"Why do you care? You never hung out with her."

"I wanted to, Tom. But every time she asked me to, I was working here."

"If you really wanted to go, you could've called off. I would've understood."

"Yeah and would I be sitting in this chair now with this job if I had?"

"Probably not. Chris would've gotten it."

"I can't do two things at once, Tom. If I could, I would."

"Oh shit, I forgot we had a commercial spot for you. You got 20."

"I could've made a better friend, but my morals got in the way- ya know? I didn't want to tread on her boyfriend's shit."

"10 seconds."

"Ugh, I hate these ads."

"5, 4, 3, 2, on air."

"Ya know when I need a good break from my long work day, I like to go home and play with my dog. But not all dogs grow the same, and that's why I use Purina dog chow's formula to keep my dog consistently growing. Other dog foods don't have the same vitamins that my dog needs, and without those he could wind up bigger than he should be. But with Purina I don't have to worry, and their new flavors I just know he loves. So make your pet just as happy as mine, and use Purina dog chow- sold in grocery stores near you."

"And we're out."

"God damn, I need a cigarette."

"No time now. And Dave, sometimes you just have to work for it. I mean, is this girl really everything you're making her out to be?"

"I doubt it."

"What makes her so great?"

"A lot in common. I like talking to her, ya know- she's fun. She can be serious, she cannot be serious. We like a lot of the same stuff. She'd fit in with my friends if she ever met them, let me tell ya that."

"Seriously? You can find chicks like that all over the city."

"We have similar life beliefs too."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to call them religious, but I guess they are in a way. We believe in fate."

"Fate?"

"That everything happens for a reason."

"Maybe this Scott guy needs to break her and her boyfriend up, so you two can wind up together in the end."

"I don't see that happening. I see her with Scott and us no longer talking. I mean, I've been here so much working on that new radio program. I've been a bit AWOL with her. And this one chick has an issue with my friend and I- and I'm pretty sure we've been blacklisted a bit now."

"You tried to stop it?"

"Indirectly. There's this chick that's into Scott, but it's not working. She's afraid to say anything to him. Or even clue him in."

"We're on in 15. Well, who knows man."

"I know. I know they'll wind up together."

"10..."

"I know I should give up and focus on my career."

"...5..."

"And congratulate them when they get married."

"Live."

"Hey hitters, we got a brand new song for you guys- it's Telephone, by Lady Gaga."

"Mic off, and out. Seriously? When they get married?"

"I just have a feeling that no matter what I do, I can't break it Tom. I can tell you but it won't stop anything. Besides, I'm way too much of a partier. I don't think she even drinks."

"She doesn't drink? What the hell does she do for fun?"

"Like I know."

"You'll get over her, man. I'm sure."

"Hey, I guess it's all good as long as she's happy, huh?"

"Such a pussy way to look at it."

"Ah go to hell, Tom."

"I'm already headed there. Fate is taking me."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

"You've got 30 seconds."

"You think I should tell her?"

"What? That you're a freaky stalker? Nah, let it go. Let her be happy with whatever douchebag she's gonna wind up with. You'll find a girl better than her, Dave. 10 seconds."

"I don't know. I guess I'll just have to wait for fate and see."

"5, 4, 3, 2- on air."

"I love that song. We've got more coming from your favorite artists, but that is it for DJ Dave here at The Hits..."