Tuesday, March 9, 2010

He's out there somewhere

Shit. I don't even know how he got away. Edna told me he was on the roof top, walking around tonight, but he was no where to be seen when I got up there.
//
Edna came down to my room and knocked on the door, telling me that Ethan was on the roof again and I had to come on and get up there to catch him in the act. We ran up the stairs, I following on her heels, as she had her keys at the ready (she made me leave my apartment too quick for me to grab mine.) I threw open the door when I got there, but Ethan was nowhere in sight on the roof. I checked the shadowy edges of the air conditioning unit, but I couldn't find the bastard.
"I thought you said he was up here."
Edna shrugged. "He was."
"What the hell was he doing this time?"
She shrugged again. "Couldn't tell."
"Next time you catch him up here, call me, don't leave to get me. Just wait up here and watch, make sure that little shit doesn't move... Got it?"
I closed the door with a bang, and walked down the steps. I don't know what that idiot was doing on the roof at this time of night, but I'm gonna find out. One way or another, I'll find out.

1 comment:

  1. Ethan sat on the roof. His feet dangled over the side of the building, bare heels scraping the brick. The people below at the carnival weren't quite ant-sized. Maybe, marble-sized. The rides looked like prehistoric insects, large and colourful. Ethan gripped the ledge with both hands and scooted forward. His teeth pinched the cigarette in his mouth and he grimaced. The smell of funnel cake and port-a-potty drifted by. He could taste it and he was glad he was already holding his breath.

    The roof door opened and Day stepped onto the gravel. His boots crunched quietly. Ethan waited for the man to speak, and when he didn't, Ethan did.

    "I see you got my note."


    "What the hell is this?" Day asked.


    "You didn't read the note? How rude."


    "Of course I read the note!" Ethan could hear paper crumpling behind him as Day pulled the note from his pocket. "Come to the roof at sundown. There's something you should see," Day recited tersely. "So, what? What should I see, besides you trespassing on my roof? What I should do is call the cops!"

    Ethan rose slowly and turned to face the other with his back to the city skyline. "Call them. Tell them you have another jumper." He smiled.

    Day's face paled everywhere except for the two splotchy patches on his cheeks.

    "Is this the third, fourth?"

    "Seventh," Day whispered. He swallowed.


    "Seven..." Ethan removed the cigarette from his mouth and tossed it over the side. He whistled and watched it's descent. "That's a pretty big number. One or two, they could have been depressed, touched in the head. Three, four, five, maybe even six, you can dismiss that. That's average for these parts. But seven? Someone's bound to get suspicious, don't you think?"

    Day's mouth opened and shut. He looked like one of those goldfish they were giving out as prizes at the carnival. The kind of goldfish that only lives long enough for you to get home and put it in a bowl.

    He cleared his throat. "I don't know what you're talking about." His feet shifted in the gravel.

    Ethan's smile grew, but he didn't laugh, not yet. Instead, he touched his head and bowed deeply. As he stood, he raised his arms out to the sides and held his hands to the sky. "Goodbye, Mr. Day," he said as he tipped backwards and fell.


    Day lunged for him, but it was too late. He fell to his knees and grabbed two fist-fulls of gravel. "Fuck!" he screamed. He waited for a crunch and a splatter. He waited for a scream of horror. And when neither came, he exhaled. The gravel sifted through his fingers. He smoothed his hair back, stood, and walked slowly to the open roof access door.

    ReplyDelete