In one quick motion it was all over. It seemed too easy. It’s time to leave now. I’ve finished my business. I wrap up my tools and descend the staircase. Strangely I’m calm. I thought it would be different. I thought that there would be more of a rush, a sense of power. But instead there was only a small amount of regret. Regret that it should have been harder. The job was too easy. I had always heard that the first one was the hardest, that the first one would stay with you for the rest of your life, haunting you. I can already feel the memory of the experience fading like the after image of the Roadrunner as it speeds away from Wile E. Coyote. I can barely even remember her name. Janet maybe. Or was it Selma? I don’t know. I don’t think it matters now.
Things seem to be sharper in contrast now. I had never really seen the wood grain on the handrail of my apartment building before tonight. Hell, I never even realized that it was made of wood before. It’s beautiful. All of the skinny lines worn down and polished by thousands of tenants touching it, rubbing it, using it for stability. A sudden flash of memory darts across the landscape of my mind. A couple is fornicating on the staircase as I am walking to my apartment. She is bent over moaning and holding on tightly to the banister. He looks at me as I try to pass unnoticed. “Aint a free show old man!” he spits at me. I run. This had suddenly turned into a bad neighborhood. Perhaps that is why I had done it. It had been a good neighborhood once upon a time.
I’m walking past the spot where that act of desparate love had happened and I can see their ghosts still humping madly as I descend. Still calm I finally reach the landing and decide to check my mail. It had been a few days and I was expecting some over due bills and a movie. I didn’t even realize my keys were in my hand till I heard them jingling musically, like wind chimes. My mother had wind chimes on the back of her house. She was a mean old bitch. Hardened by a life of mistreatment, which she had passed on to me. Never let me take it easy, she always had me doing chores or beating me for not doing them well enough. But I remember that I liked the wind chimes. The only beautiful thing in our house when I was growing up. The mailbox was a disappointment as always. Someone else’s discreet brown package was in my box again. I kept them whenever that happened. Usually they were pornos. Sometimes worse. Once I got a snuff film. Another time I got an ear preserved in a brownish fluid in a glass jar.
It was time to leave. I sighed. I had grown to like it here. The anonymity that comes with living in a large apartment building was comforting. I never had to talk to my neighbors. Most of them are foreigners so I couldn’t talk to them any way. I stepped into the cold night air. Stepping through the threshold I feel everything washing off of me, being left behind in the foyer of the building. It was like a dry baptismal. Everything bad I had ever felt about myself or anybody else washed away in the soft orange glow of the streetlight. It all stayed behind me in the den of sin I had come to call my home. I see the garbage can that is provided by the city, for the first time. It was right there, right there on the corner. Right in front of the door. I’m shocked that I had never seen it before. I couldn’t think of a better place to dispose of my tools. I probably should have left them in her apartment. No way to track my movements either way. No direction to lead anybody who would want to be looking for me. I don’t really want to leave the claw hammer. It was a good hammer. It was the first one I bought. I learned how to be a carpenter with that hammer. It was too dangerous a thing to have right now. I deposited the bag into the garbage can and walked down the road.
I could hear the sirens now. I was a block away. There was nothing to tie me to the building now. I had left my wallet in my apartment. As far as anyone knew I was just a derelict hobo roaming the streets looking for change or a meal. I’m headed to the park a little ways from my old apartment building to sit on a bench. After what fells like an eternity that was set in fast forward I sit on one of the wooden park benches. It’s damp. Was the damp from me? I guess it doesn’t matter. I look up at the sky and feel the early misting of a thunderstorm settle on my face. It’s cooling. I smile. Simple pleasures for simple men. The baptismal I had in the doorway had remade me into a simple man. I raise my hands to wipe away the water and everything goes black. The blackness is terrifying. I wonder if this is how she feels. With my face in my hands I weep. I’m not sure if it’s joy or sorrow that I weep for. All I know is that I am washed clean of my sins and have been given a new life. Something profound had just happened to me. It starts to rain and I am laughing.
