There’s only one you, I said to your twin. You are my one and only.
Short story
Game
A game of innocents, collecting flowers. Buckled shoes, smiles and hay fever sneezes. Then a cloud across the sun and cold shadow.
Excuse me
“Excuse-”
David put on his happy-to-help-tourists face, ready for the next words, where is castle, old town, queue for tattoo….
“- me pal, where’s North Bridge, the methadone clinic ken, the chemist?”
David wasn’t ready for this. It was August, after all, season of upside-down maps and disbelief at the steepness of stairs. He checked his wallet, phone. Idiot.
“Well, this one up at the top of the hill’s parallel to the Bridges so if you go up here and turn left and then right the next one’s the Bridges but I don’t know if the clin- the chemist is left or right -”
But the two men were gone, fast on thin legs, across the road through the traffic.
David breathed deeply and turned back towards the Grassmarket. Now, where were the tourists in distress?
A dog ran out
A dog ran out into the traffic. Santos, the good-hearted wise guy, twisted the steering wheel and the getaway car ploughed into the side of the security van. Sirens sounded and in the bank a bell began to ring. The three men in clown masks shook their heads. “Come on Santos” Pete shouted, “let’s get out of here.” The car was dead; steam or smoke billowed from under the hood. They climbed out of the car as the traffic behind them smashed to a halt. The security guard dropped the case he was holding and pulled out his pistol. Pete saw him and raised his semi-automatic. The guard shot first and Pete fell backwards, spraying bullets left and right, through the car and his companions. A block further down the street Levene wondered why they were a minute late. The dog disappeared behind the bins up the alley.
No comment
Many people saw him running along the top of the crag, outlined against the sinking sun, “leaping and bounding”, “like some big old deer”.
After the fall, a very few wondered, for no more than a moment, where he had gone. “He’ll have gone down the path by the side of the burn”, “heading down before the darkness”.
He lay there a night and a day and most of another night, thinking he was shouting and screaming but making noises like “a feart wee dog” or “a morning gull beside your chimney”.
The media were interested for a day or two, only because of who he was “loving and leaving”, who he had been “kissing and telling”.
Now only the chemtrails believers think he was tripped both that time and this, now that he has “slipped on the stairs with his crutches” and “gone to meet his maker”.
The thin man looked at the report and today’s front news pages and smiled. “No comment.”
On the winter beach
She screws up the letters he had written her, page by single page. Burning them would still feel too final, the ash too easy to smooth between fingertips. She imagines the powder-grey prints she would leave on the banister.
So crushing the letters is the best course of action. The only way. One by one she drops the pieces of paper and the wind sends them skirling across the winter beach.
She feels bad, of course she does. If the world were normal, she would never drop what in a normal world is litter. But the world is not normal, not now.
One page is caught in the dip before the rocks; others are held in the frothing shallow water. A single tear would be appropriate – the thought surprises her and she almost smiles. Then the smile fades from her eyes and she feels the chill on her neck.
She drops the last page and watches it skitter. The last one. Gone. She turns and walks away, into the wind.
Some years later, she returns with a dog and children. Of course there is no sign of his letters. No sign. Of course.
The hero did
The hero did – yes, that thing you thought. The villain, though, he – yes, you’re right again. And then – but you know that.
Board games
People did not notice when the owners of Cluedo bought the owners of Ludo and were then bought by the owners of Udo. Business was less interesting than board games. But they noticed, though too late, when the owners of Monopoly bought all of the others – which then suddenly disappeared.
Hunted down
The young man ran, fell to his knees, ran again. His breath was ragged, the swirling night mist a cold knife to his lungs. He fell again, groaned. Behind him in the darkness a light tracked from side to side.
His hands sinking in mud, he levered himself up and staggered on. The light drew closer then suddenly was gone. He crouched, breathed, swallowed a sob. The light snapped on again. he covered his eyes. “Yer da says hello.” Two shots cracked and echoed.
A long way away a phone rang. “Done? … Good…. The other half will be with you when I see the photo. I need to see it…. It’s so important you hunted him down and held him. I miss my boy so much…. Held him…. What? Held him…. Held him!”
On the phone there was the sound of breathing, of the wind and then silence.
Over a woman perhaps
He had always seemed too good to be true, my old friend. But then we fell out, over a woman perhaps, or differing interpretations of friendship, or perhaps through growing older. So I had not seen him for ten, maybe fifteen years, when he walked right by me. I only understood it was him when we had passed; a flicker at the corner of his eye caught mine. Perhaps – again, I’m unsure – the tremor was a sign that he had seen me.
I walked on a few steps; I slowed; I stopped. Would I turn and see him close behind me, smiling or frowning or looking puzzled, or would he have disappeared amongst the crowds? Or would I turn at all? Perhaps it was not him I could convince myself. I turned. He stood there, older, softer, his eyes the same.
So we went for a coffee and a promise to catch up and I’m sorry, no I am, and him and then me and then him and then we both looked at the time again and I thought of having to run to catch up and the years we had spent without talking.
And there was an uncomfortable shuffle and a handshake became an embrace and our gripped hands were caught tight like a fist between our chests, knuckles grinding ribs, and he looked at me and I looked back and I saw that he knew and I tried to show that I did too and then we separated and turned away and everything that had to happen happened.
simonsalento 