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THIRD PLACE
A Silent Tale
By Heather Herman
Anderson, South Carolina
The dwarf lit his cigarette with a nonchalance
that immediately drew attention to him. It was always
such with him; his actions, not his size, determined
his presence. When the last of the sticky drink in
his tumbler disappeared between his dark and fleshy
lips, he rose from his chair and, leaping to the ground,
scuttled to the bar. Clambering to the top of a vacant
cork-topped stool, he raised his fist, waved it towards
the ceiling, and demanded another drink. Receiving
a nod from the bartender, he lowered his hand and sat
down to wait. Across from the bar, upon a raised platform
that seemed almost to float in the smoke-filled air,
a band was organizing equipment. Three figures occupied
the stage and two of them, a tall, well-muscled man
with green and black tattoos in place of hair, and
a smaller, skinnier version of this man with a tuft
of purple emerging amidst his own tattoos, shifted
the heavy equipment to the appropriate points on the
stage. The third figure, a girl dressed in an assortment
of black cloth that matched her long, straight hair,
sat watching them, a stone statue listlessly clutching
a corded microphone. Where the cloth didn’t cover
her, which was most of her body, pale skin glowed through
giving her appearance an odd double-negative effect.
Her eyes, too, were black, but they were rimmed in
a fluorescent purple powder that hid a darker purple
circle around one of them. A single tear rinsed a path
through the powder, emerged lavender, and ran down
her face where it hung precariously upon her sharp,
pointed chin. There, the tear paused to reflect the
figure of the dwarf before it fell and shattered against
the floor. As if in answer to the tear’s reflection,
the girl raised her head, and her eyes locked on the
small man at the bar.
* * * * *
The show that night was a good
one by the bar’s
standard. The cloth on the girls’ body shifted
obligingly to favor the ratio of skin over fabric as
the girl screamed words of sex and submission along
with the music. The crowd did not hesitate to express
their appreciation of the band and increased their
fervor during the encore when the larger of the two
men struck the girl to the ground. When the set ended,
she remained upon the floor, silent and ripe for rescue.
This is not to say that everyone in the place enjoyed
or even approved of the performance. A figure, even
then, was cutting through the crowd, fighting through
knees and shins to make his way to the girl. But when
he arrived at the spot, the girl was gone.
In the back of the bar the night was cold and black
and the band used its cover for a blanket over the
makeshift bed they’d created on the earth. Four
dogs, strong and sinewy, were chained to a post and
provided the only audience. Gnashing and growling,
the beasts attempted to break loose and join their
master until a reproachful look from the larger man
silenced their cries to a whimper. A repetition of
the evening’s performance was occurring as the
two men moved in rhythm and the girl screamed. It wasn’t
a violation or even an inconvenience to the girl. The
scream was only a method of reaction for her, just
as the earlier tear had been; she had long ago ceased
to really react to anything. Eventually boredom ruled
out even this small response, and the girl lay upon
the ground silent.
So when the dwarf emerged from the building to find
her lying there, unclothed, his understanding of the
situation was limited. However, his cries of concern
and shock stirred a smile from her lips. He crouched
beside her, rocking back and forth on his cracked black
boots, and cradled her head in his lap. Eventually,
he found the courage to rest his bearded face against
her smooth one, and there he whispered words of comfort,
which were drowned out by the howls of the straining
dogs. Slipping inside her he imagined himself making
beautiful the act he presumed to have broken her. The
strange shape of a stunted man riding on a slender
mount mirrored them in shadow upon the building’s
wall.
When he took her hand and pulled her to her feet, she
followed with no resistance. A spark of interest kindled
within her. A change in routine was always welcome.
The two crossed the road and entered the expansive
field beyond it, their shapes suggesting a child leading
naked mother. As they tripped through the increasingly
tall grass, the two never spoke but hastened their
flight. Both were giddy on their own fantasies. The
dwarf imagining he was saving the girl, and the girl
imagining she could be saved. When the first faint
cries of the dogs were raised, the dwarf never slowed
nor wavered but only grasped her hand more tightly.
And it was this clutch and not the animal’s howls
that finally woke the girl. She felt her senses heighten,
and she responded with an electric awakening. She became
aware of the cuts in her bare feet and the small, dark
man in front of her. Now it was she who urged them
onwards with a desperation that excited her. Faster
they ran, and faster still the hounds approached them.
Then, out of the sky in front of them a patch of darker
black halted their wild run. A sheet of rock like a
wall greeted them, smooth and serene. No footholds
or passes welcomed the two, only a small crack at the
rock’s base. And now the beasts were visible
cresting the hill behind them. Snarling and snapping
they broke through the night rushing towards the two.
Following them, only a few feet behind, the larger
man and his companion appeared.
The girl did not need the slightest hesitation to decide
her course. She would sacrifice herself. She prepared
to rush to meet the oncoming creatures, to appease
them with her own flesh and save her friend. But even
as she turned to make sure he understood the greatness
of this martyrdom, she felt the absence of his small,
sweaty hand in her own. And as the glowing eyes of
the dogs became clear, she saw the glint of two black
and shiny boots disappear into the cliff’s crack.
Copyright (c) 2003 for the
author, all rights reserved. |
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