Paul Kavanagh on the Other Side of the
ear
The boys kicked the shit out Pill because Pill was one of those jerks that pulled the wrong strings. He was a clown without the nose and makeup. Pill fell to the ground and one of the boys kicked him in the face. Another boy picked up a rock and brought it down upon Pill. The thud was loud. Still the boys kicked and punched Pill. Sal saw this all and though he should have ran he didn’t. Nor did he help Pill out. Sal was clever like that. After the boys had finished with Pill they told Sal that he best not hang around with a jerk like Pill. Sal agreed and pilfered the wallet that had been left by the boys. In the wallet Sal found himself two twenties. Sal left Pill under the bridge and waltzed happily up the hill and into the illuminated streets. The streets were busy with drunks. Sal stood in vomit and pissed. In the reflection of a shop window Sal saw a bum watching him. Sal thought about turning and pissing on the bum. But before he could put his thoughts into actions the piss dried up. Sal walked pass a singing tramp and a couple kissing. Sal wanted to drink and then fuck. It was the singing. Sal entered a bar and sat himself on a stool. After five shots Sal stood up and left the bar. The streets were still busy with drunks but now the streets themselves were drunk. Sal found himself another doorway and pissed. This time there was no bum behind him. Sal jounced down the street and found himself another bar. This time Sal sat down close to three teenage girls. The girls were cute and full of laughter. Sal watched one of the girls closely. She wasn’t ugly but she couldn’t touch the other two. Sal thought she kind of looked like a parrot. He heard her talk and she sounded like a parrot. He knew that like a parrot she had no idea of the words she was spilling out of her mouth. English yes, but there was nothing behind the enumerations. Sal knew that she was the one. He waited for his cue. One friend went to the restroom and the other to the bar and Sal pounced. The parrot hadn’t a clue. Sal was good. The sweettalking was done quickly and by the time the other two girls had returned Sal had the parrot in his hands. He said that they should go for a walk and she agreed. The two friends told her that they would meet up again in a couple of hours. Sal finished his drink and escorted the parrot out onto the drunken street. Together they walked and Sal did all the talking. The parrot listened dutifully and smiled at the right times. Sal led the parrot down into darker streets. Suddenly the parrot found herself in shadows. Sal kept on talking and laughing. Sal didn’t know what he was talking about. He just kept talking. He wasn’t excited and the parrot laughed every time he delivered a punchline. Sal pulled the parrot towards him and kissed her. He looked around him and knew that he could fuck her without any disturbances. He held her tightly and rubbed his cock against her. She moaned and pulled him even tighter into her. The parrot was game, thought Sal. You know I’m only fifteen, said the parrot. Sal heard but a parrot can say pretty polly. With his cock exposed Sal felt the need to piss. He didn’t want to piss but the beer in his gut rocked and splashed about. Sal could not think about the parrot with the beer in his gut a riot. A maelstrom it was. Warm frothy beer will do that to you, thought Sal. He told the parrot to hold the fort. She grunted something. Sal watched as she danced on the spot. She was hot. Sal couldn’t piss with her looking waiting for him. He could feel the tangible anticipation. She was game. Too game. Sal staggered with his cock in his hand deeper into the shadows. He looked behind him and sighed and pissed that he could no longer see her. Eyeing the impenetrable darkness the unconjecturable became theories children’s malleable playthings. Shadows morphed into each other with alacrity. Somebody once told Sal that black possessed all colors and yes this blackness flittered in prismatic fulgurations. Who you pissing on, came out of the shadows. Sal found himself before the boys with piss leaking from his hard cock. Sal never saw the kick that circumcised him. A punch knocked out his two front teeth. Sal was flooded with punches and kicks. Blinded he cried for help. Muffed he choked upon the words. The boys pulled apart his hands and smashed in his nose with their feet. Warm oozing blood shot up his nose, throat, windpipe, bronchial tubes and flooded his lungs. One of the boys bit off part of Sal’s left earlobe. Sal heard himself scream but the act of the scream could not be remembered. The other boys laughed as the masticator dangled the piece of earlobe between his broken teeth. The blackness was once again unconjecturable. Seeing a wasteland before him Pill picked himself up. Jouncing, cold and sleepy Pill picked up the earlobe and thought that he had found apiece of himself upon the frosty ground. He endeavored to stick the piece back to himself but couldn’t. He felt around his ear and realized that the piece of ear was not his. Pill threw the piece into a bush and staggered home to sleep laughing.
© Copyright Paul Kavanagh 2007