Thursday, April 10, 2008

A noise from Lethe's bedroom



Later that night, Donte sat in the living room with the Senora. They were watching NASCAR on television. The Senora enjoyed American car racing; it gave her a sudden thrill to see the bright metallic cars zipping around the course. The engines droned and the announcer added his veteran commentary.



The camera panned in on two cars racing neck to neck as they squeezed each other off the course and then bam! Suddenly one of the cars flipped into the air, landing on its side. The other car pirouetted through the dust. A team of medics rushed over to the upturned car and the driver slowly pulled himself out of the window.



The Senora and Donte sat braced to their seats when an even louder noise sounded, but this time, from inside the apartment. It was coming from Lethe’s bedroom. It almost sounded like furniture was being rearranged, and then they heard a loud thump against the wooden floor, like somebody had fallen. “What’s going on over there?” The Senora said. “Go to his room. See what’s the matter?”



The boarder went down the narrow hallway and knocked on Lethe’s door.



“What?” Lethe called out from inside. “I’m busy.”



“Maria Angeles wants to know if everything’s okay. We heard some furniture being moved around.”



“Everything’s fine. I wanted to move my desk, that’s all.”



“You better ask the Senora before you go moving things around.”



“I’ll move it back, I promise.”



Donte looked at the door. “I think you should come out now, Lethe.”



“What do you mean? This is my room.”



Donte could smell the cigarette smoke from behind the door. Lethe always smoked when he was nervous.



Donte was stymied by Lethe’s responses. “Do you mind if I come inside?”



Lethe squeezed his body into the door crack so that Donte couldn’t see anything. Lethe’s face was flushed red with a puddle of sweat between his dark eyebrows.



“What are you doing in there?” Donte asked.



“I told you, I wanted to move my desk.”



“What for?”



“What does it matter? I’m allowed to move the desk, aren’t I?”



“You didn’t ask permission from the Senora. Now she’s upset.”



“I apologize for being such a horrible human being.”



“Don’t be so melodramatic Lethe.”



“I’ve already tried to hang myself tonight. I hung the sheets on the ceiling fan and moved the desk to get up there.”



Donte looked over Lethe’s shoulder.



“Get out of the way,” Lethe said, pushing Donte back. “No, don’t come in! Who gave you the right to come in here?!”



Lethe fell backwards.



A bed sheet was tied to the ceiling fan, just as Lethe had said. Donte looked puzzled, “"This isn't real, is it?”



“It was until you came in.”



“You’re not going to kill yourself, Lethe. Are you?”



“Kill myself? It wouldn’t work anyways. The fan almost came out of the ceiling. It wouldn’t hold.”



“Come into the living room. We’re watching NASCAR.”



“I hate NASCAR.”



“Watch it with us anyways. The Senora’s smoking. You can smoke with her.”

4 comments:

Chris Poirier said...

Suicidal and incompetent about it. That must really be really depressing. :-)

Lethe said...

You're cracking me up here, Chris. So true, so true.

tashabud said...

Chris,
The picture you painted here is desperate, but funny.

“"This isn't real, is it?”“It was until you came in.”“You’re not going to kill yourself, Lethe. Are you?”“Kill myself? It wouldn’t work anyways. The fan almost came out of the ceiling. It wouldn’t hold.”“Come into the living room. We’re watching NASCAR.”“I hate NASCAR.”“Watch it with us anyways. The Senora’s smoking. You can smoke with her.”

On a more serious note, one of my daughter's best friends who lived just a block away from us hung himelf to death. I was deeply affected by his death because a couple of days before he died, my daughter asked if he could come to live with us. (He was a foster child.) My husband and I said, "sure, if he likes to come live with us." So I thought for sure he was going to move in with us soon and was truly looking forward to the day, but then he killed himself. Marshall was a really nice kid who just happened to have some psychological issues. If he had moved in with us and then killed himself, I think that I would be in a mental hospital right now.

Tasha

Lethe said...

Wow, Tasha,

That's quite a story. Where do you live again?

The scene is intended to be comic. But when it was happening to me it was tragic--like everything in my life until I wrote it down--a Greek Tragedy.

The humor bubbles up when we're able to look at ourselves and see that life isn't so serious after all. Like that Alan Watt's clip we talked about.

Suicide has been called a permanent solution for a temporary problem. I think that sums it up. What seems to be the end of the world turns out, in my case, to be difficult period of adolescence.

Chris