Men Kill Things
This morning L Magazine published my short story “Men Kill Things.”
I’m really happy with it - very short, but hopefully carries some weight…
Ben doesn’t scream or cry or call for his mother when nightmares wake him up. He wails, a sad train whistle of a sound, something he’s trying hard to keep secret. Pipes clanging; animals moving through fallen leaves; a car door slamming down the road… he handles his fear on his own. He’ll only cry when Beth or I arrive at his bedside, and by then it’s more shame than fear.
“I’ll get him,” I say, when the sound finally stirs Beth from her sleep. I’ve been listening for fifteen minutes.
The hall is dark, its ceiling low. Every night I stand here. Tiptoeing through the house, hoping to tire myself out, I stop to stand still in utter blackness and listen to the wind. Goose bumps prickle my arms, tighten my testicles. The boiler’s broke, demanding eight hundred dollars we don’t have. Space heaters help out in the bedrooms, but the hallway’s just four walls to keep the wind off. Every night I listen, waiting for when the wind will pull the walls down.
“Hey,” I say, pushing open the door, “hey little man. Everything okay in here?” I leave the light off. Sometimes he won’t sob if he can’t be seen.”
photo by me!
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