Ten Foot Titans By Rich Sharp Wilson
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Long summer Sundays when I as a kid were spent running around plastic machine gun gripped tightly in my hands, throwing myself onto the hot concrete as imagined bullets flew overhead.
“Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat”. Andy came running full pelt down the ten-foot, Uzi tucked close to his side, spraying invisible hot lead along the side of Brown Owl’s fence. Jamie bursts out of his back garden gate and is caught in the cross-fire as I opened up with all that I had got. “Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh.” Leaping out of the way I crashed into Old Man Les’s meticulously manicured privet hedge. Bouncing off I rolled across the floor, as the sound of caps cracked from my small side arm. The sweet smoldering smell of gun powder fills the air as I get up off the ground, slamming myself against Brown Owl’s garage door. Peppered with holes the dry rotting wood nearly gave way under the strain. All goes quite around me. Da-dum, da-dum, da-dum. I could hear my heart pounding inside my throat. |
I knew Andy was close by, I could smell him. He smelt of sweet summer grass stains and the distinct mustiness boys get when they only get bathed once a week. I look behind, Jamie had positioned himself behind the brick wall that my Dad built at the end of our garden. Jamie signals to me, I wasn’t sure what Jamie meant. I looked at him quizzically. Jamie points at his gun and pulls out a thin strip of charred red paper from the back of it. He’s out of ammo. Patting himself down he shrugs and looks at me with helpless eyes. I patted myself down, to find that I do still have a reel of caps in my pocket, but Andy and his Uzi is between myself and Jamie, and him being able to reload. He is stranded and defenseless, a sitting duck Andy is waiting to pick off. We waited an age, as the sun started to dip behind the terraced houses at the far end of the ten-foot. Casting long shadows in the fading evening light. I squinted into the fading sun. The dusk light had a magical quality and I felt as strong as my shadow was long. I can do this. Time is running out, but I knew that I could make it. I had to.
Blazing across the gap between Jamie and myself, I opened up with all that I have. “Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh.” Andy is taken by surprise. He looks up from the kneeling position he is in, shoe laces in hand, Uzi on the floor by his side. “Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh.”
Blazing across the gap between Jamie and myself, I opened up with all that I have. “Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh.” Andy is taken by surprise. He looks up from the kneeling position he is in, shoe laces in hand, Uzi on the floor by his side. “Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh.”
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“UH!” I throw the reel of caps towards Jamie, they land at his feet. Andy grabs up the Uzi and starts to return fire.
“Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat.” I trip and crash headlong into Old Man Les’s prize privet. The barrel of my gun is trapped. I’m defenseless. I try to pull my gun free. Jamie fumbles to reload. Andy closes in on both of us. “Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat.” I’m hit. Everything goes into slow-motion. I crumple and twist as I go down. Hitting the ground with a dull aching thud. The light is fading. Jamie stands above me, raising his pistol. “Bang! Bang! Bang!” In the far off distance somewhere I can hear Andy grunt and gurgle. |
“Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat.” And then the sound of a body hitting the floor. Plastic clatters on concrete. Andy is down, firing wildly as he fell.
“Ugh!” I see Jamie out of the corner of my eye slump against the wall and slide slowly down. Silence.
They just lay there the three of us, motionless. These once great ten-foot titans have been silenced as we succumb to the sunset. Silence surround the fallen heroes. Sweet silence. Sunset silence. Silence.
“Raphael, I’m running your bath. Time to come in, you have school in the morning.” Silence. “Raphael, did you hear me?!” Silence. “Raphael?!” Silence.
Then from further away, “Jamie?!” Silence.
From further still, “Andrew?!” Silence.
We three slumbering giants gradually awake. Slowly we rise, as our once lethal wounds magically heal. We three giants cast our last shadows, guns in hand, side-by-side. Three victorious heroes at the end of the movie. The Sunday sun sinks behind the roof-tops. Our shadows fade. We are boys again. “Coming Mum!” We chant in a united chorus.
Copyright 2005. (First published in the Seoul Writers Workshop first anthology of poetry and prose Every Second Sunday, in November 2008.)
“Ugh!” I see Jamie out of the corner of my eye slump against the wall and slide slowly down. Silence.
They just lay there the three of us, motionless. These once great ten-foot titans have been silenced as we succumb to the sunset. Silence surround the fallen heroes. Sweet silence. Sunset silence. Silence.
“Raphael, I’m running your bath. Time to come in, you have school in the morning.” Silence. “Raphael, did you hear me?!” Silence. “Raphael?!” Silence.
Then from further away, “Jamie?!” Silence.
From further still, “Andrew?!” Silence.
We three slumbering giants gradually awake. Slowly we rise, as our once lethal wounds magically heal. We three giants cast our last shadows, guns in hand, side-by-side. Three victorious heroes at the end of the movie. The Sunday sun sinks behind the roof-tops. Our shadows fade. We are boys again. “Coming Mum!” We chant in a united chorus.
Copyright 2005. (First published in the Seoul Writers Workshop first anthology of poetry and prose Every Second Sunday, in November 2008.)
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