Once upon a time in Yonkers: Pt.2
Oct. 14th, 2005 02:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalon"I told you this would happen" He says with an honest and sincere regret. I'm struggling to do one single push up but I can't. Luckily it only hurts when I breathe... or don't.
"You okay?" he says offering me his hand. I take his hand and pull him down. The surprise of the motion throws him off balance. The adrenalin I got from the pain kicks in and I start wailing on the back of his face. I get in three, maybe four good shots before he recovers with an elbow into my already fucked up ribs. I howl out pure pain and it echoes all the way down the funeral home parking lot, up and down the length of Mclendon Avenue, traveling down to the old PS 21 and all the way up to the edge of Van Courtland park.
A warm numbness washes over me all at once and I fall backwards into a very deep, black place. A place where it doesn't hurt. A place where I'm laying in bed with you again. The sun fuzzy through the window, your skin is glowing with it, the sheen of sweat makes you literally radiant. You ask me why i'm smiling. I reach my hand out and your hair streams through my fingers, like a midnight river flowing downstream. You say something low but I can't make it out...
"I'll only say it one more time you dirtbag piece of shit... stay away from her and just stay down" That's John. I'll tell y'all a secret about the fat kid you used to pick on in grade school. He's the one that grows up to be a mob enforcer, or a cop, or works security backstage to that band you really like. Those kids'll never forget the taunts, the rejections, the way you forced them into hanging out with people like me. The freaks. The monsters. The rejects. The fat kids always grow up strong, but they grow from a hard place cold. I lift myself up off the ground only to hit it again face first. I try again and manage to keep my balance. I'm cradling my ribs and my mouths got that horrible warm seasalt & metal taste of blood in it.
"You can't.... she loves me, man, she loves me...."
John just shakes his head.
"You poor pathetic fuck. Where do you think she is now, man? At Reggies place. Doing for him whatcha think she only be doin' for you"
"Thasss bullshit man"
"No. Who do you think told me about you two"
Now. Now i'm in pain. I charge at him powered by pure rage. He steps aside and trips me. I hit face first again. This time I just lay there doing my best not to cry. They always betray you in the end. It's a life sentence for you mother fucker. No love, no luck in a long-night life. John kneels down.
"For what it's worth... you put up a better fight than I expected"
He walks away from me. Out the parking lot and into the rest of his life. Eventually I make it to my feet. Even later I make it home where I feed my folks some half assed bullshit story. They know i'm lying, but they know not to push it. I lay in a bed that's been mine since I was twelve. I look out the window at the stream of headlights coming of the Expressway in the distance. I begin making up little storys for each one of those cars that pass by and I haven't stopped since.
"You okay?" he says offering me his hand. I take his hand and pull him down. The surprise of the motion throws him off balance. The adrenalin I got from the pain kicks in and I start wailing on the back of his face. I get in three, maybe four good shots before he recovers with an elbow into my already fucked up ribs. I howl out pure pain and it echoes all the way down the funeral home parking lot, up and down the length of Mclendon Avenue, traveling down to the old PS 21 and all the way up to the edge of Van Courtland park.
A warm numbness washes over me all at once and I fall backwards into a very deep, black place. A place where it doesn't hurt. A place where I'm laying in bed with you again. The sun fuzzy through the window, your skin is glowing with it, the sheen of sweat makes you literally radiant. You ask me why i'm smiling. I reach my hand out and your hair streams through my fingers, like a midnight river flowing downstream. You say something low but I can't make it out...
"I'll only say it one more time you dirtbag piece of shit... stay away from her and just stay down" That's John. I'll tell y'all a secret about the fat kid you used to pick on in grade school. He's the one that grows up to be a mob enforcer, or a cop, or works security backstage to that band you really like. Those kids'll never forget the taunts, the rejections, the way you forced them into hanging out with people like me. The freaks. The monsters. The rejects. The fat kids always grow up strong, but they grow from a hard place cold. I lift myself up off the ground only to hit it again face first. I try again and manage to keep my balance. I'm cradling my ribs and my mouths got that horrible warm seasalt & metal taste of blood in it.
"You can't.... she loves me, man, she loves me...."
John just shakes his head.
"You poor pathetic fuck. Where do you think she is now, man? At Reggies place. Doing for him whatcha think she only be doin' for you"
"Thasss bullshit man"
"No. Who do you think told me about you two"
Now. Now i'm in pain. I charge at him powered by pure rage. He steps aside and trips me. I hit face first again. This time I just lay there doing my best not to cry. They always betray you in the end. It's a life sentence for you mother fucker. No love, no luck in a long-night life. John kneels down.
"For what it's worth... you put up a better fight than I expected"
He walks away from me. Out the parking lot and into the rest of his life. Eventually I make it to my feet. Even later I make it home where I feed my folks some half assed bullshit story. They know i'm lying, but they know not to push it. I lay in a bed that's been mine since I was twelve. I look out the window at the stream of headlights coming of the Expressway in the distance. I begin making up little storys for each one of those cars that pass by and I haven't stopped since.