This story is part of a story that I wrote as an assignment for a MOOC Class I took at University of IOWA.
The class was called, Power of the Pen: Identities and Social Issues in Fiction and Nonfiction. The classes are taught online and people from all over the world participate. This was the second time I participated, and again I learned a lot.
Here you can read the beginning of the story, Part 1, 2 and 3…
… (Read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3, and Part 4)
Manuel Part 5
…
What a mess … Sitting on the ledge, my feet dangle over the molding of the parking garage. I hold onto the railing. Five stories over the ground.
I ran. No, I limped, after my jump from the principal office window. I decided to flee before anyone came back. And now, I’m sitting here. I can’t go back. Not today. Not ever. Because of the video, because of Goldman. Because of Sheila. And my mother.
This mess is all my fault.
I have to end this, I should have done this …
A stone skips behind me. I jerk around and almost lose my grip. My calf bumps into the stony wall. Pain shoots up from my knee.
One of the strange twins walks towards me.
“Stay away,” I yell.
“There you are.” She answers cheerfully, as if we would’ve agreed to meet up here.
“”What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in school?”
“It’s my lunch period.”
“Stay away, or I’ll jump.” A shiver runs down my spine. What is she doing here?
“I wanted to ask you something. You said you are not Mexican. So, where do you come from?”
“Are you crazy?”
“I’m thinking, maybe Puerto Rico?”
“I’m going to jump!”
She pauses. I bet she didn’t expect that.
“Okay,” she shrugs. “I mean, you look Mexican, what was I supposed to think?”
“Why did you come up here?” I ask her.
“You don’t need to do this. Manuel, right?” she says.
“Leave me alone! There is no other way! Why do you care anyway?”
“The smell of suicide is a disgusting mixture of rotten eggs and sweet, overly ripe peaches.”
“What? That doesn’t even make sense!”
“It’s true, this smell drives me crazy. Whenever I smell it, I have to follow it. It led me here, to you.”
“Nobody smells suicide.”
“I do.” She sighs. “I smell a lot of things. And you definitely smell of suicide, regret, fear and … pain.” Her voice is matter-of-fact, emotionless. “You shouldn’t do this,” she adds.
In the distance, I hear sirens. Oh shit!
“Go away.” I don’t want to talk to her, I need to concentrate.
“Statistics say, that two-third of the people who commit suicide regret it the second they jump. However, I don’t know how any statisticians would know this. Most of these people are dead, and cannot talk about their regrets, right?”
“GO. Away!” I lean forward and look down. My stomach churns. Every fiber of my body pulls me backwards. An image of myself appears in my head. Strangely splayed I lay on the street, one leg at a unnatural angle. Blood spills under my head, the puddle getting bigger and bigger, redder and redder … The world starts to spin.
“Nice View.” The girl’s voice sounds near to my ear. I turn my head and she I is sitting next to me on the ledge.
I stare at her. How did that happen? My breath comes in gasps.
“Manuel, look at me, and keep breathing. Yes. That’s good. That’s the key. I thought for a minute I already lost you, you are as white as a sheet. Listen, if you want to do this, you need to keep your calm. And you need to be quick. The cavalry will be here soon, Trish already called 911. Hear the sirens?”
I listen. She’s right, the sirens are closer now.
“I have no choice.” I sigh.
“You always have a choice.”
“Not after what I’ve done.”
“You mean the movie thing? Agreed that this was not your best decision, but you could’ve done worse.”
“Worse? Principal said I’d go to jail.”
“I doubt that. First, that has nothing to do with you being Mexican, or whatever you are. Second, they cannot put you in jail for this. Sheila is underage, you are underage, and she gave her consent, the movie was supposed to be private, right?”
“True. But her father will force her to say differently. And I can’t go to jail. My father is in jail. My mom will be devastated.”
“Sheila won’t rat you out.”
“You don’t know her.”
“I do. Know her, I mean. She is my lab partner in chemistry. And we talk about things, I just didn’t know that it was you she was talking about. And I know that David was hitting on her … and that she chose you.” The girl puts her hand on my arm. I wince and stare at it. It is warm and tender, like Sheila’s.
Sheila. David was hitting on her? I didn’t know. This bastard. That explains a lot.
An image of Sheila pops in my head. Her black hair was lit by the setting sun that evening, when we shot the video. The Sheila in my head turns gracefully to me and smiles. I shake my head to push Sheila’s image away.
“What did she say about me?” I search the girl’s eyes. They are a deep green. It reminds me of the pond at Hanging Lake in Colorado. The beautiful lake you finally get to when you hike the trail along Dead Horse Creek. The warmth of her hand spreads along my arm and up to my shoulder.
“I can’t tell you anything, I won’t betray her trust,” the girl says coldly. I shake her hand off me. The icy cold feeling creeps back into my arm. She is right, I betrayed Sheila. I don’t deserve anybody touching me, anybody loving me.
“Besides, you don’t want to know anyway. I mean, if you’re going to jump you’re surely no longer interested, right?” Frustrated, I look at this strange girl. I don’t get girls … Except Sheila. I get her. She is easy to understand. Maybe because I like her so much.
“Can you tell her something from me?” I ask.
“Famous last words?” She gives me a lopsided smile. “Nah, I won’t tell Sheila anything. It will haunt her for the rest of her life. If you got to do this, you need to do it without leaving Sheila a ton of guilt. It is your decision, not hers.”
She leans forward. “You know, a jump might not even kill you. It’s only 5 stories. You should search for another building.”
The sirens sound louder now. My thoughts spin. What am I doing? It’s getting harder to breathe by the second.
“You know, this will solve your problem. If you die. But Sheila – her problems start after you jump. She’ll have to carry this for the rest of her life …” she keeps it hanging there.
I pull one knee up and set my foot on the ledge. Frustration rolls over me. If I do this, will Sheila really have a lot of problems? Maybe it will be easier for her. She didn’t do anything. Although her father wouldn’t agree with that.
“I have been in this situation too, you know. That’s how I know how it smells. It is a unique smell.”
“You wanted to jump?”
“Yeah, not here, but in Russia. More than once. My life was messed up. I didn’t want it anymore.”
“So, why didn’t you?”
“Oh, I did.”
I focus my eyes on her, give her a once over.
“But … but you’re sitting here.”
“Yap, I changed my mind on the way down. That’s how I know about the statistics and that they are probably true …”
“Even if this is true, and you changed your mind, what could you have done to stop falling?”
“We don’t have much more time, so Manuel, listen. First, jumping is not a good way, there are far better ways. If you want I can give you some tips.”
I stare at her. She smirks. The siren is close now.
“Second, on the way down, you’ll ask yourself, what would’ve happened if you hadn’t jumped. You’ll never know … You’ll regret it, and you’ll die with a feeling of guilt, failure and hopelessness. And what about the people you leave behind? Sheila will feel like a failure. Your mother, too.”
Failure is an ugly word. But I am one, a failure, right? Isn’t this what I deserve. My mother knew it all along. She never said it, though. Sheila’s face pops up again. Her beautiful brown eyes, the inviting lips, … she is so beautiful. She is no failure. She is one of the best people I ever met. She cares about other people, is generous and funny. She is smart, learns languages easily and wants to become a biologist. She loves the lake and the ocean, birds and rides horses. And she liked me.
“I’ll leave you now, so you can think about it.” The girl swings her right leg back over the ledge.
“No! Wait. Can’t you stay, while I’m …”
I watch her, as she sets the other foot on the ledge, pushes herself up and stands on the ledge.
“Nah, I’m too distracting. You need to do this alone.”
Hovering over me, she sways back and forth, then she slowly turns, puts one foot in front of the other and balances away from me.
“Why didn’t you die, if you jumped?” I ask. My throat is tight. Suddenly, I don’t know if I can jump. If I want to jump. What if the principal lets me off the hook? What if I don’t end up going to jail? What if Sheila really loves me? What if I could go to college. Besides, leaving wasn’t fair to Sheila, was it? We could …
The first firetruck turns into the street. Another look down and my head spins again. The sirens are deafening. And suddenly I know I need to get off this ledge, make everything right, talk to Sheila, my mother …
I turn around to swing my leg over the ledge, but my pant leg is hooked to something. I pull at it and lose my balance.
Screaming, I fall.
Everything happens at once but it feels like the seconds slow down. Like falling in slow motion, like my heart stops, like I lose everything.
My life is over. Nothing can stop this.
Until something does, and a hard jolt stops my fall. Hanging upside down, I look up and see two heads peeking over the ledge, two strong arms, holding my foot and two more hands trying to free my pant leg that is still tangled around a huge barbed iron nail, sticking out from the wall of the building. Shouts from the street float up to me, and I look down. Bad mistake. My head starts spinning. One of the girls is talking to me.
“I didn’t die because I had a built-in loophole. An insurance against myself. And today I’m this insurance to you. So, Manuel, turn yourself to the building. Don’t look down.” The girl says. “And put your legs together that Trish can get a better grip.”
“Please, don’t let me fall.” I whisper. I have no idea if they can hear me.
This is not going to work. They will not be able to hold me for much longer. I’m such an idiot. Now I can never tell Sheila how I feel and how sorry I am. And I can’t talk to my mom again …
The tear of fabric sounds from above, sending a panic down my stomach. I feel another jolt. Ice cold fear creeps up my spine. It’s over. But then I’m pulled upwards by my feet, two arms wrap around me and pull me off the ledge. Then all three of us fall on the ground. I land heavily on one of the girls.
The sirens from the street are drowned by a loud sound close to my ears. I don’t know what this is, until I notice that the girl under me is laughing. Her laugh overshadows every other noise, until she rolls over pushing me to the side.
She laughs out loud and squats on her haunches.
Trish kneels next to me, breathing heavily. “You are crazy! I was so scared.”
“You?” I burst out.
“What do you think?” She says, chuckling. “It’s not that I’m heaving boys over the edge every day.”
“What’s your name again?” I ask her sister.
She turns her head and her green eyes search mine, “My name is Inka.”
“Thank you, Inka.” I whisper.
“No need to thank me, you made the decision yourself, we just helped you get off the ledge, which was the easy part.”
“Easy part? What are you? Some kind of superhero?”
“Yeah, I guess our DNA makes us kind of superhero-ish.” She exchanges a glance with Trish and giggles.
“How did you know, I changed my mind?”
“Your smell changed, you suddenly smelled like ripe strawberries, the smell of hope.”
I inhale deeply, and shake my head, not comprehending her words, not proceeding what she is talking about.
But I’m alive. I have no regrets.
The End
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