From
the chapter entitled “Sinking”
My
parents became worried when I refused to go outside, so
I didn’t
tell them for a long time that the reason I wouldn’t
go to school or even out on the street was because I
was sinking.
When I walked outside that day and took my very first step
out of the door of our building I sank into the sidewalk.
I just sank a tiny bit, maybe a hair, but I felt it for sure,
yet when I picked up my foot there was no footprint left
behind like when you walk on Jones Beach, and the sidewalk
just covered itself back over where my foot had been.
I went to school that first day I began to sink,
and with every step I could feel that I was sinking
deeper and deeper, and I was sure people would
notice, the doorman would complain about the
footprints ruining the sidewalk in front of the
building, though he didn’t seem to mind or notice,
the other kids would yell and scream, or for sure the teachers
would rub their chins and call my parents, but no one could
see it or maybe no one cared. By the time I got home I
could barely see the tops of my Reeboks, it was like walking
through an inch or two of snow, so I knew it was getting
serious.
When I got inside the school building the sinking
stopped, and the same happened when I got back
to our apartment building’s
lobby, and I didn’t sink through the floor of our apartment
either. Only when I was outside on the sidewalk or on the
street did it happen, and the next day I tried again, and
I began to sink the second I stood out on the pavement, and
I raced back up to the apartment, and I decided I would never
step outside again or else who knew how much I might sink
the next time, up to my knees, up to my neck, and I didn’t
want to find out, it was too scary.
At first my parents thought I was trying to play
hooky, but I told them school was OK just so
long as it came to me but that I wouldn’t go to it, and they pleaded with me to
tell them what was wrong, were the kids mean, and then they
thought I was just being stubborn and I just wanted to play
hooky, but after I was willing to get spanked or yelled at
just so I wouldn’t step outside they really began to
worry. I was sorry to make them so upset, and I really meant
it, and I told them I was sorry, but I wasn’t crazy
enough to go outside and get swallowed up.
Finally, I had to explain to them what was happening,
that I was sinking into the ground. At first
they looked surprised, with a strange, curious
look, but then they said they understood, although
all that meant was that instead of yelling at
me they began to whisper to each other. After
awhile of whispering they told me that I better
see a doctor in order to help me, that maybe
I could take some medicine which would stop me
from sinking, some kind of anti-quicksand pill.
I told them there wasn’t any quicksand, that it was still solid
sidewalk in Manhattan but that for some reason I was able
to pass right through all the pebbles and molecules and stuff,
or maybe they passed through me, and I didn’t know
why. So they just called it anti-sinking medicine instead,
and they explained that the doctors knew how to cure the
problem if I would just go visit one.
But how could I go out to visit a doctor if I might slip
deep under the ground with my very first step? I said the
doctor was OK, but only if he came to the apartment. No way
was I going to walk outside. But they argued and argued and
told me not to worry and that they would each hold me by
the hand and if I sank they would hold me up long enough
to get me into a cab waiting right outside the door. So finally
I agreed.
I put on a pair of new Nikes – they said new shoes might
help – and we took the elevator down. When we reached
the lobby I couldn’t take it anymore and tried to go
back into the elevator but they grabbed my arms and told
me not to worry they were with me and would protect me, but
I knew otherwise, I knew that once you start to sink through
the earth you never can stop. It’s one of those things
that you feel inside you without knowing why or how, just
that it’s true.
They said I had to go. The doorman held the door open, the
taxi driver stood next to his cab, and Mom and Dad stepped
right outside, reached in for my hands, and pulled me through.
The first step I took I sank up to my ankles.
They all stared in amazement, the doorman’s
eyes bugged out like one of The Three Stooges,
the taxi driver ran behind the double-parked
cab hoping the trunk would protect him, all four
of them shouted in alarm, and Mom and Dad grabbed
my hands even tighter. I kept my other foot back
on the doorsill; then I took the next step.
In an instant I began to sink more than ever
before, up to my knees, sliding down into the
sidewalk like it was warm butter, and this time
I kept dropping, until the sidewalk was up to
my chin, my hands over my head. Mom and Dad screamed
but held on even as I sank over my head, and they held
on to my fingertips as I reached up over my head until
they couldn’t hold on any longer. My fingertips slipped
beneath the concrete, but for Mom and Dad the concrete
was still hard, so they had to let go when their own knuckles
scrapped against the ground.
Then I was sliding through dirt and darkness all alone, their
screams growing fainter the deeper I plunged.
This, then, is where our story begins.
Review Excerpt
back to
top
|
