1834

1834







A boy shot himself yesterday, in the head. Obviously suicide. He was lying in bed when his mother walked in the room and found his body. I can’t even imagine her screams.

“Hey, are you alright?” I said.
“I’m fine. I’m just a little hungry I think.”
“Well, you’re acting a little strange and I just, well…”
“I’m fine,” he interrupted “I told you. I’m just hungry.”
“Yeah, ok.”

I can hear it now, the monologue running through his head over Easter dinner.
“Why? It’s Easter… really, no one must care for decency anymore. She hardly even looked at me. It’s him. Jesus, what a waste. If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have even bothered. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I had to. Ugh, I don’t know.”


“And for you?” asked the waitress taking our drink orders.
“Umm… a water.”
“Ok.” She smiled, nodded, and walked off towards the kitchen.
“Thanks for coming out man, I really didn’t want to do the whole church bit this year. Figured I’d just use the holiday as an excuse to get out and buy myself dinner.” I said.
“Yeah, it’s no problem.” He half muttered.
“Didn’t you see Steph earlier today?”
“I dropped by to say 'Hello' and 'Happy Easter' quick. I wasn’t there very long.”
“Oh, did you see the kid?”
“Yes, briefly.”


I could see his posture turn to a slouch and his eyes turn a tinge melancholy so I stopped talking. His reaction was to be expected, from what I knew he really liked her. And her kid, he loved her kid.
He fiddled with the napkin in his hands, staring down through it, fixated on something beyond. Our bubbly waitress quickly made her way back to our table and set our drinks down on the coasters in front of us.


“You guys ready to order?” she asked.
“I am.” I looked toward my friend and he nodded in agreement.
“I’ll have the seafood platter and a side of fries.” She nodded, noting my order down in her little pad of paper.
“And for you?” she asked lifting her head from the paper turning toward him.
“I’ll just have a cheeseburger.”
“Anything else?”
“Uh, hold on, yeah.”
A few awkward seconds passed.
“And?”
“Fries.”
“That all?” she confirmed.
“…yes.”

He had fallen in love over the past couple of months, unrequitedly so. She didn’t even notice, though even if she had, she probably wouldn’t have thought much of it.


“Every time I try to tell her, it just, comes out completely wrong. What is wrong with me? Damn, I can’t get it right. It’s too late now though, it’s all about him. She doesn’t even know who I am anymore. That guy is twice as old as her, it’s not right.


“Wake up man! Talk to me.” I exclaimed.
“I’m sorry. I’m a little tired.”
“Well, maybe after you get some food you’ll feel a bit more above the wind.”
“Yes, hopefully.”

I was coming home from school when my mother told me. I was shocked but I realized I didn’t know the guy.
“His mother found him lying in bed.” She said.
“Oh.”


What color were his sheets? I couldn’t help but think of a puddle of a red on white or a darker brown in blue. Though for his mother’s sake I’d hoped he was in the center of a bed with black sheets. And then I thought of the walls in his closed room. In a way, his privilege of feeling compassion had made him and artist. I wondered what he had painted using that barrel as his brush and his bloodflow for the palette.
“You knew him, didn’t you?” my mother asked.
“No… I didn’t. I never said that.” I replied.
“Oh, well, nevermind then I thought you said you knew him.”
“No.”

Over at her house earlier on Easter day, he had brought presents for her daughter. He loved the child. He planned on bringing presents anyway but he also saw it as a sort of desperate attempt to show his commitment, decency, and his self-acclaimed responsibility.
“Thanks, Happy Easter.” Even her sarcastic smile gave him chills.
“Well, it’s a start.” He said to himself. Mark walked over, held out his hand and feigned a smile. They shook hands and Mark picked the little one up and playfully tossed her up and down until she burst out in laughter.
“It’s all about him now. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. That look on her face, what else could that mean? She really had no reason for that. And him, I guess she’s old enough now though.”

“Hey! Come on, eat. Your foods here.” I said.
“I know.” He sighed.
“Alright, you didn’t seem like you noticed is all.”
“I did.”

He wasn’t hungry anymore. He didn’t feel like eating, he didn’t really feel like doing much of anything. He popped the cap off of the ketchup bottle and started to dribble it on his fries in a constrained flow. Irritated he impatiently tapped on the bottom of the bottle a few times quickly and the ketchup inundated, saturating the fries in the red. His mother’s face, her composure, when she saw him lying still in bed, saturated. He looked so tired.
After school, I had been in my room for a few hours and came out into the kitchen for a drink to find my mother and grandmother talking, still about the boy.
“He went over there for Easter with presents. I’m not sure but Sheryl told me Stephanie was treating him very badly, being very short with him and putting him off.” my mother told my grandmother.
“I had just met him and when I’d heard what happened it blew my mind, it just, blew my mind. You knew him didn’t you?” asked my grandmother.
“No, I didn’t. I never knew him.” I said.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes.”

By then, everything was so confusing, all of the noise in the restaurant, the place was packed. He figured he was only taking up space. All of the people waiting in line and outside to get a table. He had waited and got nothing.
“Thanks, Happy Easter.”
He wished he could make things right again. Wishing he was older, he couldn’t help but think of it. What if he was older? Would she have seen that attractive glimmer in him too? What the hell was it?
His mind wandered, it kept plaguing him, tempting him. This pressure was much to burden. He knew he couldn’t follow through with it but he also embraced it to be his escape, the only way out. At a loss of words, nothing came to mind to explain himself to her. Even if, by some miracle, his feelings made their way to her, she would shrug them off. It’s indomitable.
With nothing but a few wrong pieces to a hundred puzzles, he realized he was full.

“Hey, I’m going home.” He said almost hauntingly serious.
“But… why? You didn’t even touch your food.” I said, perplexed.
He threw a twenty on the table.
“Keep the change, I don’t think I’ll be needing it anymore. Happy Easter.”