The Tobin
Garrett wasn’t what Susan expected. Obviously. Humans are hilarious if you ask me. They think they’re so in control of themselves, but their faces show everything. It’s one of my greatest sources of entertainment. That, and the way they behave on boats after a few Coronas.
Ninety meters below us, the Mystic River glittered. Susan clung to my railing and looked Garrett up and down. She’d expected Death. Her face said it all: Since when does Death wear jeans and work boots?
Well, I got news for ya, sweetheart. Death doesn’t come unless you actually jump off. Believe me, I know.
Garrett knew her, though. I’d heard him talking to the other guys from the MDOT crew.
They were all standing around, looking up, when Garrett arrived. Even McCarthy. If Slave Driver McCarthy was standing around, you knew something was wrong.
Garrett squinted into the sunlight.
“Shit,” he said. “SHIT.”
“Garry? Whaddya know her or something?” His buddy, Rick.
“Yeah, man.” Garrett exhaled, wiped a hand over his face. “That’s Susan Barducci. You know. Dale Barducci’s wife.”
“Dale Barducci? That asshole that left his family and ran off with the…”
“Yep.”
“How do you know her?”
“From the block, when we were kids. She used to babysit me and Joey.”
“Aw, shit. Sorry, man.”
“You need to go up there.” McCarthy.
“What?”
“If you know her, get up there right now. Get her down.”
“Get her down? What the… you mean, like, talk her out of it?”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean, smarty. Get your ass up there.”
Garrett sputtered. “Me? I … Shouldn’t the police get her down?”
The look on McCarthy’s face shut Garrett up. The project was eight weeks behind schedule. They both knew what impact a bridge closure would have. Or a crime scene investigation.
Garrett’s face was priceless. I tell ya, I’m better than those clairvoyant gals with their crystal balls. I heard it like he said it right to me. This shit is not in my job description.
He climbed up, though.
Sat above her.
Said her name.
She was so surprised, she almost tumbled off my steel right then and there.
“SHIT.” His body tensed to spring. But she caught herself. He took a breath.
“Sorry,” he said. “Hey. I’m Garrett. Remember me?”
Her eyes closed. Her fingers gripped the rails. He could see her face, stained with salty tracks where tears had been.
“Fuck you,” she said.
“Garrett. From Front Street,” he barreled on. What the hell am I doing? Making small talk with a woman who’s about to kill herself?
“Please go away,” she said.
“Remember when you used to come over and play cards with me and Joey?” he blurted.
Her eyes stayed shut.
“You always won. Well, you woulda won, but you usually let me win… Hey, remember those meatballs you used to make for us? Dang, those were good. Nobody ever cooked for us like that. I bet your kids love it when you make those.”
She started crying.
“You told the best jokes,” he said. “I swear I learned half my jokes from you. Remember how Joey asked for dirty jokes? And you said, ‘You better straighten up, or you’re in big trouble, Sir’.”
Her face crumpled. But she wasn’t jumping.
“Look,” he said suddenly. “Screw Dale. He’s a scumbag, allright? If he doesn’t know what he’s got… well… he’s an idiot. But he’s not worth jumping off a bridge for. Don’t do that. You are so much better than that. You are worth more than that. Okay?”
She was crying hard now. But still not jumping.
Brazenly, he reached out a hand. “Come on, okay? Let’s go. Let’s get you back to your kids.”
She looked at Garrett, then at the water.
“Remember when you used to get me down off the monkey bars, all those times Joey dared me to climb up there? Well, I guess today it’s my turn, allright?”
She looked at his hand.
“Come on, Susan. Let’s go home.”
* * *
Like I said, humans are funny. They do the dumbest stuff. Yet they seem to understand what it means to be on a precipice, unable to move, stretched between what went before and what might be next. They feel the power of that in-between space. Sometimes they jump. Other times, the last one they expected is the first one to help them down.
Overall, I’ll take humans any day of the week.
Now don’t get me started on seagulls.
Writing prompts:
(1) Opening line "Garrett wasn't what Susan expected"
(2) Narrator: a sarcastic inanimate object
Ninety meters below us, the Mystic River glittered. Susan clung to my railing and looked Garrett up and down. She’d expected Death. Her face said it all: Since when does Death wear jeans and work boots?
Well, I got news for ya, sweetheart. Death doesn’t come unless you actually jump off. Believe me, I know.
Garrett knew her, though. I’d heard him talking to the other guys from the MDOT crew.
They were all standing around, looking up, when Garrett arrived. Even McCarthy. If Slave Driver McCarthy was standing around, you knew something was wrong.
Garrett squinted into the sunlight.
“Shit,” he said. “SHIT.”
“Garry? Whaddya know her or something?” His buddy, Rick.
“Yeah, man.” Garrett exhaled, wiped a hand over his face. “That’s Susan Barducci. You know. Dale Barducci’s wife.”
“Dale Barducci? That asshole that left his family and ran off with the…”
“Yep.”
“How do you know her?”
“From the block, when we were kids. She used to babysit me and Joey.”
“Aw, shit. Sorry, man.”
“You need to go up there.” McCarthy.
“What?”
“If you know her, get up there right now. Get her down.”
“Get her down? What the… you mean, like, talk her out of it?”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean, smarty. Get your ass up there.”
Garrett sputtered. “Me? I … Shouldn’t the police get her down?”
The look on McCarthy’s face shut Garrett up. The project was eight weeks behind schedule. They both knew what impact a bridge closure would have. Or a crime scene investigation.
Garrett’s face was priceless. I tell ya, I’m better than those clairvoyant gals with their crystal balls. I heard it like he said it right to me. This shit is not in my job description.
He climbed up, though.
Sat above her.
Said her name.
She was so surprised, she almost tumbled off my steel right then and there.
“SHIT.” His body tensed to spring. But she caught herself. He took a breath.
“Sorry,” he said. “Hey. I’m Garrett. Remember me?”
Her eyes closed. Her fingers gripped the rails. He could see her face, stained with salty tracks where tears had been.
“Fuck you,” she said.
“Garrett. From Front Street,” he barreled on. What the hell am I doing? Making small talk with a woman who’s about to kill herself?
“Please go away,” she said.
“Remember when you used to come over and play cards with me and Joey?” he blurted.
Her eyes stayed shut.
“You always won. Well, you woulda won, but you usually let me win… Hey, remember those meatballs you used to make for us? Dang, those were good. Nobody ever cooked for us like that. I bet your kids love it when you make those.”
She started crying.
“You told the best jokes,” he said. “I swear I learned half my jokes from you. Remember how Joey asked for dirty jokes? And you said, ‘You better straighten up, or you’re in big trouble, Sir’.”
Her face crumpled. But she wasn’t jumping.
“Look,” he said suddenly. “Screw Dale. He’s a scumbag, allright? If he doesn’t know what he’s got… well… he’s an idiot. But he’s not worth jumping off a bridge for. Don’t do that. You are so much better than that. You are worth more than that. Okay?”
She was crying hard now. But still not jumping.
Brazenly, he reached out a hand. “Come on, okay? Let’s go. Let’s get you back to your kids.”
She looked at Garrett, then at the water.
“Remember when you used to get me down off the monkey bars, all those times Joey dared me to climb up there? Well, I guess today it’s my turn, allright?”
She looked at his hand.
“Come on, Susan. Let’s go home.”
* * *
Like I said, humans are funny. They do the dumbest stuff. Yet they seem to understand what it means to be on a precipice, unable to move, stretched between what went before and what might be next. They feel the power of that in-between space. Sometimes they jump. Other times, the last one they expected is the first one to help them down.
Overall, I’ll take humans any day of the week.
Now don’t get me started on seagulls.
Writing prompts:
(1) Opening line "Garrett wasn't what Susan expected"
(2) Narrator: a sarcastic inanimate object
This was so unexpected! I loved the story, so poignant and sad. I think the sarcastic POV element could have been played up a bit more, though - we get lost in the story, and are given access to Garrett's thoughts, and we're missing opportunities to experience more of the bridge's sarcastic wit. Love the ending!
ReplyDeleteI love that you chose to give the bridge a voice. I thought it was a realistic touch that Susan didn't just suddenly open up when Garrett approached her, that she pushed him away. I thought the POV shifted into Garrett's head a few times though. Like, how did the bridge know what Garrett was thinking?
ReplyDeleteA different and unexpected POV. I like the positive ending as well. :)
ReplyDelete