what about no legs? – part three

These are some short stories I’m writing to provide background for the main characters in my “novel” which is an ongoing work in progress.

FOR PART ONE, CLICK HERE, FOR PART TWO CLICK HERE. 

 

There was nothing physically wrong with old Al Hossenfeffer to stop him from getting up to see what was going on across the hall, but still he was rooted to his chair.

“Guess I’ll never know now” is what he kept saying over and over to himself until Marty peered his head around the door.

“Are you ok in here?” he asked the elderly gentleman.

Marty wouldn’t have so much as blinked if Al’s answer went something like “Does it fucking LOOK like I’m ok ya dumb German bastard!” but it was very different.

“Please come in and sit with me.”

The Croatian paused at the door, unsure what to say.

“Look – I’ve heard lotsa guys goin into that room. And I’m not stupid, I know what’s happening. And I also know they won’t miss one person. Can’t you just sit here with me for a few minutes?”

“OK, I’ll just tell them I’ll be in here…”

“NO!” the look in Al’s eyes was as pitiful as it was desperate. “They’ll find something for you to do if you go in there! Stay in here with me, they won’t blame you for it afterwards!”

The old man made a lot of sense. Besides, he really did not want to go back into Room Number 1, so he pulled the chair over from the desk in the corner of Al’s room and swung it round so he could sit facing the old man.

“What name did he have for you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Did Joe have a name for you?”

“Oh – I didn’t really deal with him that much. What do you mean, a name?”

“He’s always reading books, well, at least he was. And it wasn’t a lot of different books either – always from the same shelf, only a dozen or so. Oh that reminds me…”

Al’s mind was like a carnival at this stage, doing everything it could to occupy him so he could forget what had just happened in the room across the hall. Unfortunately it also was presenting him with challenges his nonagenarian body couldn’t accomplish.

“DAMMIT!” he exclaimed when he realised he needed help, though he was so determined to continue his train of thought he was not afraid to ask for it this time…”Will you go into that room and get the book beside my bed, please?”

Marty was also glad to have something to do to pass the time. He was also very much warming to the old man, fully appreciating his reasoning as to why he shouldn’t go tell the others he planned to stay in there. Were roles reversed, that is EXACTLY what he would have done.

The book, although it had fallen off the bedside table, was easily retrieved.

“Is this the one, Al? Animal Farm?”

“Did you find it?” came the words from the next room, “ I think I may have knocked it onto the floor as I was getting up earlier. It’s called Animal Farm.”

“Yes, here it is” and soon Al was receiving it into his lap.

“No, no, you take it!”

“Why would I want it?”

“No, no…” again came the frustration in Al’s voice…even his mouth wouldn’t move fast enough although he knew perfectly well how to explain the situation. “This is Joe’s book. It’s from his shelf. They mean the world to him. One way you know that he likes you is that he starts calling you by a different name, and gives you one of his books.”

“Oh, I see…and this is what he gave you, is it?”

“I was a miserable bastard to him when I first got here, but he didn’t care. He told me to stop being so angry and look at people around me. “ Just then the fact he was using the past tense dawned on him and his eyes were filled with sadness. “You know the way I asked you earlier on about being an actor? That was thanks to old Joe.”

“I thought it was to take your mind off cleaning you up?”

Al shook his head. “That’s what I said, but Joe taught me to look at the people around me – ask them questions – bring them alive, that’s what he’d say. He said everyone around you is a character from a book, and every character in a book can be the star of that book. I guess I never knew what he meant by that before today.”

Marty took the book in his hands and had a look.

“What this book about then?”

“Hell, I don’t really know. These animals take over a farm but the pigs turn out to be worse than the humans were. But I read the damn thing, cover to cover, to find out why he decided to call me Benjamin.”

“He call you Benjamin?”

“Yeah, at first I thought he was goin a bit nuts callin me that, but then this kid who kept visiting him….I think it was his grandson?...knocked on my door last week. Said he was going away to write a book himself or something, I don’t know. But he told me that Joe wanted me to read this, and that I should be somehow honoured to be asked.”

“And were you?”

“I guess I was. He came in here, was it yesterday? Yeah – and he asked me what I thought of it. I could see in his eyes how much it meant to him that I liked it, but to be honest with you, I didn’t really get it. He asked me if I felt like one of the animals on the farm.”

“You mean you old people are going to take over the nursing home?”

“Yeah, I guess…of course he didn’t mean that. Four legs good, two legs, bad.”

“What?”

“That was a line from the book. It was kind of a rallying cry for the animals against the humans…four legs good, two legs bad. I told Joe – if we tried that revolution here, how far would a bunch of old timers get with no legs?”

Marty laughed out loud at that. This made Al’s tears well up even more. He always envied people who could make people laugh – thought he could never do it. It was almost as if old Joseph Coté next store could sense this and wanted to give a chance to learn how.

But he was becoming more and more aware of his own vulnerability, so now was a good time to switch the tone of the conversation.

“So, what about you – why don’t you go back to being an actor?”

Marty sighed, and Al remembered his own better known talent of making people do anything but laugh.

“Oh, no, look, it’s none of my business, son…”

Marty looked at him strangely, reacting to the word “son”. He knew Al didn’t mean it as anything in particular, but here it was – this guy reminded him of his own father, at least what he would have looked like today were he still alive.

“No, no, it’s ok. I’m still here because the money is good, and I tell big lie to my mother.”

“What?”

The Croatian took a deep breath. All this time living in America, far away from where he called home, and he never had the chance to actually tell someone properly about his life. He had to actually stop himself from beginning a story which would have taken him back to early childhood.

But in that split second he managed to make the long story short.

“I have a little sister and a little brother. They both a lot younger than me. They both think I their hero. I go off to America for big acting job in Hollywood.”

“And it fell through, so you have to lie?”

“Well, yes, but it not that simple. My sister, she become Miss Croatia two years ago! Beauty queen! Now she top model in whole country! And as for my brother – he play football…”

“Football, eh?” Al’s eyes lit up. “I used to play a bit myself, quarterback ya know!”

He was actually a tight-end; the fictional coach in his head retro-actively promoted him when he turned about sixty.

“I think you mean your American football, Al. I mean what you call ‘soccer’…”

The old man, who never liked to be corrected no matter how wrong he was, actually felt himself repressing the urge to react. Again he put this down to old Joe.

“Oh, ok. Go ahead…”

“He very good at soccer – he play for Croatia at Under-16 and now he is signed by big team over in England! Actually that is why I was late today.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, he play in his first game for Arsenal two weeks ago, and my mother she send me DVD of the game for me to watch. She sent it last week and does not believe me that I have not yet seen it.”

“And why haven’t you seen it yet?”

Now Al was starting to resemble Mrs Martinovic.

“BECAUSE IT ONLY ARRIVE THIS FUCKING MORNING!!!”

“OK! All right! Jeez! How the hell would I know that?”

“Yes, yes, of course, sorry. Fed Ex they call me yesterday saying they will deliver it early this morning – it did not arrive till 10 and I miss my bus. So my mother call me again ask me did I see it.”

“Well he must have done something good then?”

The thought hadn’t occurred to Marty before.

“You think so?”

“It’s not that she doesn’t believe you – she’s probably just excited about talking to you about it.”

Al could tell this made sense to the man sitting across from him, even though he chose to change the subject.

“Look – I better go see if I can do anything to help. I leave you for a few minutes but will be back soon, ok?”

As he got up to leave, Al smiled to show he was ok with it. He let out a big sigh as the door closed and he saw the book Marty had left behind on the chair.

After picking it up and thumbing through the pages, he said quietly to himself :

“I guess I’ll never know why the hell ya called me Benjamin, but thanks anyway, Joe, for teaching me to look at people around me. Cos they ARE people.”

next ... "Sandy's Army" part one

© JL Pagano 2009