When One’s No Longer One (of them)
Short Fiction Story
By Jim Meirose
This is what you signed up for, so live with it. Yes yes yes, so.
Live with it!
It got lonely after that. Every day more. When one’s no longer one of them. Being noticed everywhere. Uh look at them there they go everywhere. Is that them? Turn around. Look down there. Is that them? Maybe that is them. This is where they just were. No, no—not there—over here, yes here—there they are, there they go—all said every time. Caused by them every time. Caused by them. All day every day. Behind their backs, to their faces—it doesn’t matter. Look at them knowing, they are thinking, look at them—they’re different from us. Has to be true. Has to be. Has to. Has to, when there they are everywhere. Plastered to the back of storefront glass. Tacked to pole after pole after—oh thank God, there’s one where they’re not. Walk—walk—down the sidewalk. People pass by not looking, but, oh yes. They are thinking. There they are. Them. Those two. Oh yes they are thinking and it’s for sure when they’re passed by and behind, many slow, and turn, point—there they go. They are the ones who are everyplace now. They are yes, but—why them? It has to be true there are those who think what they’ve got now is wonderful. Bah! How false. How wrong—keep walking. Just keep walking—what they’ve got now is wonderful. Why the hell them? Who the hell are they? Why not me? Why not you? Why not us? Why not everyone? Why not, why not—but look at them. They are not like us. They are different. They are over there when everybody else’s over here. That’s being different. That’s being special. That’s being alone—and et cetera, et cetera. They knew that must be what the whole town is thinking. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. Into the deli just to get—oh, get what does not matter. Up to the counter. Facing the same face. The storekeeper. The friendly face. My we have shopped in this store forever. My we have exchanged friendly warm looks with this kindly old storekeeper forever. We have come up to pay for this very same item forever but—this time. Look there, look see—this time—the storekeeper’s wearing a patterned shirt they’ve worn many times before, but look. Look see—back there—this time—the storekeeper’{ween!} s face is the same shade of red it’s been every time we’ve been here before and that will still be the same sha BLUE de of red every time we come here again, for sure—for sure—and so much else also. So much every, also. The blue-grey old floor. The ghostly dim neon light. The cigarettes there. The “batteries” here. These cheap lighters here. Those pens back there and all in all but—there is is, like everyplace else, on the wall there, behind—there we are— Singing ‘n Chanting!—there we are, and the storekeeper’s different. Scan our items. Inside where we can’t see. These are the two on the flyer. There’s what the charge comes to, including tax. These are the two special ones on the flyer. Pull out the wallet. The very special ones. Count out the money. So very important. Give the money. Slight touch of the hand. This is one of them who are different from us now. Reach for the change. Better then us now. Do not count the change. But why the hell anyway? To count such a petty amount of change would signal. Why these two? I don’t really trust you. What’s so different about them? Push the change in a pocket. Of course I trust you. See? What made these two so much better than us—what made these two be so chosen—but maybe the storekeeper’s not thinking that. The pictures—after all, we do not feel they look like us. Maybe no one’s thinking anything about us any different than what they may have been thinking before—so lonely. Either way the world’s become so lonely. Take pity please won’t ya? Have a nice day, calls out the storekeeper. Have a nice—but do they mean it? Maybe they mean it, but—does anybody saying such things ever mean it—no, don’t doubt it. No don’t. There’s way worse than loneliness. Don’t go there. Keep away. Keep away. Yes keep away. Get away its all much too loud now outside. They claim its for us they’re doing it for us. After all, all the flyers—all the cartons—all the glances the looks they claim are for us now. But its still too loud outside down here. Get home. Go home. Get ‘way. Its much too loud down here all day every day uh yes. Every day uh uh . . yes . uh every day yes so; when fired at duck down; yes, sergeant ; . . . . . [ oh, want to talk of tyrants? Hey. I can tell you all about tyrants ] be sure and to be {when can’t take it ‘rr sta’ ‘t ‘o ‘re duck down; yes, sergeant duck down yes yes sergeant not like that soldier more like this soldier what the hell is the matter with you sergeant oh no no no I mean soldier eh serdgier no no eh yeah soldgeant duck down soldier; duck down sergeant duck soldier duck sargeent duck sildoer cudk gerseant kucd roldies ‘uck sergean’ duc’ ‘oldier ‘uc’ ‘ergean’ dk soier duk sergeat ‘u’ ’oldi’ ‘c’ serggeant duuck sollllldier duuuuck sregeant ckud sod-lier dc-uk ser-r-r-r-r’geant d’oldier sergean’k ckud soldier d-d-d-d-uck-k-k-k-s-s-s-serrrr'!geant! [ Ai hast not never seen my Pop Cubanore to dis day ] oh mah mah, nearly sound asleep there wah wo ‘n whoopee oh yah yah oh hey now, what did you see saw sergeants versus soldiers armies of them yes yes armies of them n no nnooo that simply cannot be oh really yes really why not here’s why; it makes no sense and—would also look very silly—to see battalions of heavily armed sergeants only ready to charge on the left and ah ah to see battalions of heavily armed soldiers only ready to charge on the right the idea’s, silly. Yes, silly. Sillier than silly! Do you not think so, hmmmmm? Do you not think so? Do you not think?
Christ almighty there’s no need to hurl insults.
Party!
Party!
Party!
Insults?
spit !!! spit {ween!}
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