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Because of the Shoes It
was understood a Fitzmurice did not under any circumstances speak
with a Collins and vice versa. Though for twenty odd years, and
I do mean odd, the Collins' lived on the third floor in apartment
3C and the Fitzmaurice's lived directly above in apartment 4C. This
code of muteness was passed down from parent to child. When passing
one another in the street each family would look the other way in
disgust. As time went on and the children aged and moved on with
their lives first Mr. Fitzmaurice passed away and not to be outdone
Mr. Collins shortly followed. Mrs. Fitzmaurice had one child left
at home; a daughter Katherine. The Collins children had also moved
on but today Mrs. Collins anxiously awaited the arrival of her youngest
son Robbie who was home on medical leave from Viet- Nam. More... Flickering Lights One night a wind caressed my cheek at a time I most needed soothing. Then ever so slightly her lips brushed mine. I closed my eyes. I smiled. She laughed and as I reached for her, she fled. Without assistance the fanlight flicked on and the blades began to rotate. A door slammed. Next to me my wife woke. " What is it?" "
Nothing, go back to sleep." More... Grogans's Gift - I'm sorry about your father, Jack- spoke Mr. Minogue proprietor of the Blarney Stone Bar and Grill, 207th Street and Broadway, Inwood, Manhattan, New York City, last stop for the A train on the IND line. - Wasn't I just speaking with him this very day the week past.- Minogue
moved closer and affectionately patted Jack's hand as he continued
his monologue. His voice lowered, almost hushed as though Jack and
he were conspirators. More... He Who Knows
The sweat gushed from my pores. My breathing became sporadic. What
a nightmare! Quickly I went to the sink and poured cold water upon
my face. In the mirror a red-eyed stranger stared back. Was it a
dream or was it reality? Perhaps it was the beer I inhaled the previous
night. I rushed to my rolltop desk and recorded my thoughts. It
all seemed so long ago. More... The Canary Bird
When I was sixteen she was colored. In each hand she carried a shopping
bag. The bags were plastic and flowered. Her lips were full; her
face pushed forward and her eyes were sunken. I shadowed her. Periodically
she would stop, slowly lower her shopping bags to the ground, lean
her body wearily against the side of an apartment building, and
sigh. Later when I was older and colored became black and black
became Afro- American and labels became pertinent and I became confused,
in my dreams the Canary Bird would fly to me. I remember she moved
slowly yet, determined. She never sang in the street. Her eyes always
sought a courtyard as though this three-sided structure were her
stage. Assured, she would set down her bags; clear her throat; remove
a handkerchief from her brassiere; wipe her lips then, lean her
head backward and sing. More... The Queen's Horseman
This is how it happened. Joey called Allie and asked him to pick
up some puppy chow from the feed store on the way out to the house.
Allie asked Joey what kind and Joey said the kind you feed a puppy
and Allie understood. This is the way they spoke. Now Allie knew
Joey was looking for a horse for his wife. When they left Astoria
section of Queens, New York, Joey promised Carmen a steed. Of course
Joey promised many things to Carmen over the years for her devotion
and understanding about this witness protection garbage, and forcing
her to live among these rubes in the small town of Jamul (pronounced
ha-mool), in the east county of San Diego, but his memory often
slipped. Not Allie's. As he was standing in line at the Jamul Feed
Store Allie noticed a slightly obese woman, okay fat, hang a 'For
Sale' sign on the bulletin board, "Horse for sale...$50."
Allie shifted nervously before the counterman until the woman departed.
A couple entered the barn and the husband immediately scanned the
board, turned to his wife and exclaimed, "Hey Honey, look at
this!" Allie saw the man's hand in slo-mo extend itself toward
the board. Allie's mind flashed back to the corner of 50th Street
and Tenth Avenue when he told the guy to keep his hands up and the
stupid prick wanted to be a hero and save his lousy 199 bucks. When
Allie saw his hand move he whacked him over the head; took his money
and walked across the street to the Druids Tavern. He ordered a
vodka rocks with a twist and thought himself lucky he got to the
bar just in time for the end of happy hour. I would not say the
man in the barn was particularly deft of movement for, in the blink
of an eye, Allie tore down the sign; shoved it in his pocket; and
pushed his way past the couple who were merely interested in the
antique clock for sale. More... Willie's War
Willie
lived in apartment 12C on 580 W. 218th Street, New York City between
the avenues Broadway and Park Terrace East. A nondescript human
he was tall, balding with a protruding nose and disarrayed teeth.
Regardless of the elements Willie wore a faded navy blue topcoat,
a grayed fedora, black shoes and the same pants whose color was
beyond identification. He shared this apartment with his sister
who was equally non-descript. They shared quarters and nothing more.
They neither conversed nor were a party to any civilities of life.
Each had their own bedrooms, which were kept locked when either
was away from the apartment. More...
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