Do The Wrong Thing

Why do I keep thinking my life is a movie?

I'm standing on the balcony of my second floor apartment, leaning over the railing, holding a loaded gun I've never fired, with two arms outstretched aimed at two men, one tall and burly, the other short and slender, talking with their backs to me below. And at this point, whether I do or do not shoot them both, my life is truly fucked.

-------------------

It all started earlier that day in the morning, mired in my usual weekend pain, when I was out walking around in the aimless wandering I sometimes do when I'm hurting. There are some empty grassy fields still undeveloped I drive to where no one traverses. It's there I feel safe with my splitting head and were I to die in this moment it would not be the worst thing that could happen. When I say No they say Yes. When I say Yes they say No. I just cannot connect.

I admit I was pretty wrapped up in myself and it was an unpleasant shock to force myself back into the world when I noticed a commotion in the distance. Two men had grabbed a blonde girl in a yellow dress, dragging her away in an apparent kidnapping. Behind them is a row of trees that defines the edge of the field and provides cover from prying eyes from the country road beyond. Only a lost fool like me would be found in such a useless location.

Instinctively I begin to shout and wave my arms causing the two men to pause and look over at me. As I start to walk towards them they abandon whatever plan they had and disperse to the other side of tree line. I run to the yellow dress girl but she is fine. Yet when I ask what is going on she shook her pretty head and refused to answer. I was confounded. Situations like this only happen in movies and I was surprised at my expectation that momentarily something would come along to illuminate and give me context.

Without a pre-written script, I had no idea what to say. I'm certainly not anyone's idea of a movie hero. Looking back, maybe I was in a bit of shock with this intrusion into my isolated life. I was like Chance the Gardener trying to change life's channel with a TV remote. God, did I feel inadequate. Was I supposed to challenge her and force the truth out? She was visibly upset and when she started to stumble away I could only look on in a hapless sort of way, tortured by the idea of what a responsible adult would do.

"Am I a hero?" I kept thinking how the local news trucks would show up with their camera crews wanting to interview me and I'd finally get my 15 minutes of fame. Yippee! But they'd ask too many questions and why I didn't do more and they'd get that look on their face people always do when someone gets to know me: that look of losing all interest. Then they'd pack up and drive away and I be captured on film forever as a fraud. Alone again, naturally.

Of course, I was thinking about how I'd blog about this and with all my bullshit stories this would sound like just another one and no one would be the wiser. Maybe in the retelling I'd add in a little Rashomon factor and play myself up more and leave out a few inconvenient facts. Wouldn't be the first time I've parsed the truth. Then I noticed an object on the ground, square, about an inch and half in size, with metal prongs sticking out of one end. Definitely an electrical device.

"Those men must have dropped this. The fuckers!" They were up to no good and this is turning into a Simon Templar adventure. Except that he would have stuck with the girl giving aid and comfort instead of staring longingly at her legs as she walked off. Anyway, those two guys were assholes and I deserve this little perk whatever it is. A hero's reward! Maybe I can pull this con off after all. I was starting to feel righteous. Idiot.

It was quite a hike back to my car parked to the side of the country road. I was clutching hard the electronic device in my hand, musing on what it could possibly be. Probably nothing, but the greater its value the greater my story - and my worth. So I wasn't giving it up for nothin'! But I felt a presence behind me and when I turned around the big burly guy from before was walking behind me, his eyes dead straight on me.

"Give it back!" he demanded in a thick European voice. "Give it back or I kill you!"

Now, if my head had been in the real world instead of thinking I was in a movie I'd have dropped the damn thing and got on with my worthless life. But I was a hero and the star and if I drop it I can't advance the plot. It bugged me at the time I was thinking that way and putting it down now in black and white makes it look absolutely fucking insane - but I clenched my fist and started running to my car.

"It's mine! Give it back!"

He started running too but if there's one thing I have experience in, it's running. I tore away in my car, smiling at his exasperated face in my rear-view mirror.

"Shit. Maybe this is something after all."

I started to feel excited, my mind racing with the possibilities of this being some sort of high tech device but, good Lord, how cheesy and obvious of a plot line is that?? Still, those guys were trying to drag her away for a reason and maybe it wasn't just because she was hot. My head was spinning! Just the idea my life could be remotely interesting for once, that I could do something worthwhile - and I did save that girl even if I was unable to follow up on it. That just had to be the right thing to do - and I done did it!

I pushed aside the nagging voice that wondered where that little guy had been. Maybe he was...nah, I got away clean, too clever by half. Things always work out for the good guy! I'm too integral to the plot for anything to happen to me. I decided to celebrate and stopped at a Sonic to splurge on a Coney dog. I was so freaking excited to share my news I was the star of my own show and a hero and had an international electronic device worth millions and probably sought after by governments the world over like in "Sneakers". But I couldn't explain all that to the car hop so I just had be satisfied on my own.

"Frodo's got nothing on this boy!"

I got back to my dingy apartment full of feelings I never had before. Jesus, what a feeling to be somebody instead of a nobody. It was like I'd written a hit song, on top of the world. I never realized how badly I'd been craving that and what hell life was in the vacuum in which I had been entombed. Hardest part would be to keep from giggling! Who's the asshole now??

I was turning over the device in my hands, looking for any clues I could find, when I heard a whiff of the heart-sinking sound of the oversized European's voice outside. I ran to the window, peering through the blinds. They were searching the side of the building, then turned to look at my car in the parking lot.

"Shit! Shit ! Shit! Shit! You fucking idiot, look what you got yourself into! Goddam you thinking you were something more than what you are!"

I ran to my bedroom closet and pulled out my suicide gun. Forgot where I put the bullets but found them right away, though it felt like an hour. I crouched back to the patio door, opening it slightly ajar.

"Do we have to do this?" asked the little fellow.

Mumbling, then: "He saw us with the girl too," definitively replied the tall guy.

I could barely hear them but I understood loud and clear. My head suddenly cleared as I thought through the immediate logical scenarios. Even if I ran them off - even by using the police - they could wait outside forever to ambush me. Just a matter of time. What can I do? What can I do?

The only way to handle this was to handle it myself. No one can help or protect me. I just had to be stubborn and hold onto that device, didn't I? "Fuck, nothing is worth this!"

My heart was racing but I knew to wait until later to be scared. Right or wrong, I stepped out onto the patio. The minute they turned around and I saw their eyes - removing all doubt - I'd shoot them down like dogs. It was them or me. No Way Out.

There's got to be another way! I can't do killing. This goes against every fiber of my being. Do this and you're defeated for life. It's the no-win situation you swore you'd never find yourself in.

Then it hit me. I rushed back inside and got my old 35mm camera. The daggers in my heart fell out and at last I felt truly confident in what I was doing. "Hey!" I barked out, causing both men to swing around. I took several quick shots in a row then held up my gun.

"These pictures are going to the police, the internet, and anywhere else I can think of. Anything happens to me, they'll know exactly who did it and hunt you down like dogs. You can have your stupid device, just get the hell out of my life."

My tabletop isn't far from the patio so I was able to quickly grab it and fling it down to them. The short one picked it up, the tall one kept his eyes on me, unwavering in his inspection with his questioning gaze. Then I saw the inevitable look of disinterest I always get as they turned to walk away, my world reverting to what it's always been.

EPILOGUE: I'm haunted and hounded by the idea that device really was my worth and I literally threw it away. Part of me argues I was sensible and mature in what I did. At least I didn't shoot the fuckers. But I couldn't shake the idea I'd failed in the Big Moment every life receives. I really, really, really wanted to get to the truth of that device. My instincts yelled out "Yes!" to keeping it. Perhaps something bigger was driving me, though. Maybe I was simply driven by the need to cry out, "This is what my life is. I can't change it - can I?"