Love always and forever,
Your Baby Brother
P.S. Please don’t tell Mom I was with you.
The Dead Fisherman
We found a dead fisherman at the lake. He was sitting with his head thrown back, fishing pole held tight and upright in his hands. His skin was red and flaky from sun exposure. I couldn’t tell if it was him or the lake that smelled like shit. We circled around him like flies, observing the stillness of his body. Then I saw a finger move. Well, it didn’t really move, just kind of vibrated. Then I realized the pole was moving, not his finger, and I tried to pry his fingers apart to get the pole free but couldn’t even budge them. I looked out and watched the bobber go all the way under, the pole arching with the weight of the fish. I tried to get to the pole again. My friends wanted to leave. Dude, let’s get the fuck out of here. C’mon, man. Let’s go. I didn’t want to leave. I said, Hold it. Just hang on a minute. I wanted to see if the fish would free itself, but the bobber never came back up, and we left the dead fisherman there, all alone, to reel it home.
~ ~ ~
The last time I thought about death, it was only a dream.
Midget
I went ice skating with a midget once. Not a real midget, just this kid I knew who suffered from some kind of full-body deformity, more like Simon Birch than Wee Man, and he wore these amazing glasses that made his eyes look swollen huge in his tiny head. He was only about three feet tall. He lived in a trailer park and smoked pot. I went to his birthday party in eighth grade. Everybody was getting high while scoping the junkyard. He had a rattail that fell down his back like dirty curling ribbon. His chest was all puffed out, a bowling ball berthed under his ribcage. I remember hearing Kid Rock float out from his trailer and into the driveway. He always seemed to be smiling, weasel-like laughter frothing from his crooked teeth, when he wasn’t putting on a mean face to look tough. He presented himself as the type of badass figure you might find in a novel by S.E. Hinton. His birthday party is seared into my brain. I think he only made it to one or two more. Later that year, they did full-body surgeries on him, breaking and resetting bones, trying to stretch him out with machines and braces so that he might be a little taller someday. They succeeded in making him just shy of four inches taller, and he seemed to be on top of the world for a while, showing off his newest strut and stature, finally feeling that sense of equality with his fellow boy that he’d always yearned for. But he only lasted another year. He wasn’t meant for the tall life. It was those extra few inches that killed him.
Suicide
The first was early sophomore year and I didn’t really know the guy that well. I only knew that he was nice, and that everybody loved him. At the funeral, everyone wore yellow windbreaker pants and jackets in honor of his choice of Halloween costume the previous year: a Chiquita banana. Guess it was a real hit.
The second was just a little after the first. But it was a girl this time, a girl I actually kind of knew a little, an acquaintance I’d talked to a few times during lunch. We were just getting to know each other. She always seemed sad even when she was cheerful. She hung herself from her ceiling fan. At least that’s what I was told.
The third was a kid I knew pretty well. I’d skated with him a few times around town, and we had Technology class together during third block. One day he just stopped coming to class. A few weeks later somebody explained to me what had happened. He used a gun. I’d been under the assumption he had transferred to another school.
The fourth wasn’t suicide per se: dude did too many drugs, drank too much alcohol, passed out at a party and never woke up. His funeral drew more people than the previous three combined. I guess his suicide was accidental, unlike the others, so his funeral boasted a more apologetic feel.
I got really paranoid and lazy with life. I dropped out of school, thinking there was something contagious there. Who knows, maybe I’d be the next one to go. Of course I wasn’t, but you can never get that kind of stench off you. People kill themselves all the time, in every country, on every fucking continent I in the world. They don’t feel any guilt about it. Why should they? They leave that behind for the living. I feel guilty all the time.
~ ~ ~
they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were the best of times, they were the worst of times, they were told.