von Celina Cherubin
“I am so hungry “, I groan as I throw up my hands. I look around out of boredom what I am met with is a chaos of a city. New York is filled with people who are chasing their dreams, most of them are delusional enough to think that they will become true. They won’t, trust me when I was 19, seeing the city for the first time, so many options you could choose from, I thought so too. But I quickly came to the realization that New York may look cool on social media but is just a cruel and heartless city. And my mind wanders to what my Korean mother would tell me if I told her about this ridiculous thought: “Don’t believe all the bullshit on social media. These people are just trying to brainwash you to get in some kind of cult.” And yes, my dear old mother is a fan of conspiracy theories. Growing up I would always shake my head at my mom for saying stuff like this, I used to think of it as untrue. But now as an adult it is starting to become too believable. Especially in a city like New York, full of influences which try to convince us of it. My thoughts are interrupted when some familiar hands are waving in front of me. “You spaced out again “, I hear my best friend saying with an annoyed sigh. “Sorry“, I apologize and cringe when I hear my high-pitched voice.
“It’s fine“, she answers. Rolling her shoulders seeming completely tense, my best friend groans in frustration.
“That bad?!”, I offer as a disguised apology. “Could be better but anyway I am assuming you didn’t listen to me, or did you?” She gives me a look that can’t be better described as “the mother look “, my personal knee -jerk reaction kicks in and I flinch. “I got lost in my thought”, I say with a casual shrug. Rumi just scoffs at me her dark hair falling in front of her round glasses, her sharp eyes studying as if she’s trying to read my mind. All while she nervously fidgeting with her hands, a habit she only does when she is either stressed out or battling anxiety. “What’s going on?”, I say shifting uneasily on the bench near our fire truck. I guess some dreams didn’t get lost in New York, we stayed true to ours. When we were 6, we dreamed of becoming firefighters who save people stuck in houses full of fire, here we are currently on our lunch break which is over in nearly 10 minutes. The reason why I get so anxious when she does that is because Rumi is the most straight forward person I have ever met so her being so quiet is strange to say in the least. In our 24 years of friendship (I met her when I was 2) I’ve never seen her look at me like I’d judge her for anything. We’ve had our ups and downs but our fights were never about honesty. So, let’s make this quick and painless! She hesitates for a second then continues to drop an absolute bomb shell. “I got back together with Cardan”. And I feel like I have been stabbed. “Hold your horses, the guy who cheated on you twice!?”, I whimper still in denial. That is for sure a different guy, I think to myself. My best friend would never ever run back to him.
“I know but look he said things would be different now and ….” She is cut off by no other than by my co-worker Xiao who looks like he has just awoken from death. His forehead is covered in sweat, he is still somehow pale and he looks so tired when he stops to catch his breath. I stand up and rush to him immediately. “Victim uh …. Hanging …. window”, he sputters obviously out of breath. I rest my hand on his shoulder saying in a soft voice: “Breathe, take a deep breath in and out”. He looks up at me like a lost puppy which makes me ruffle his short black hair because he’s been like a little brother to me since he joined the Firefighters of New York city last year. When he finally catches his breath and says “I just got a call. There has been an accident on Lakewood Street. Some guy is hanging out of a window…” , I brush past him to sit down on the passenger seat of our fire trunk. “Let’s go!”, I scream and turn on the siren. The other fire fighters quickly follow me and close the doors. “You are such an unhinged driver”, I hear someone shout over the siren. “I am”, I think to myself but they will never hear me admit to that cause I’ll never hear the end of it. I’m not the kind of person – more like a stubborn, difficult person like my brother likes to call me. I roll my eyes and kind of smile at myself because of that thought. My brother might be annoying most of the time but he sure as hell knows how to make himself irreplaceable. “Stop getting sidetracked”, my brain tells me, “there’s a person on the brick of death and you’re thinking how much you miss your little brother”. I drive like a race driver through the city. More and more ancient buildings pop up because I come closer to Greenwich village, an area full of old or, in my opinion, buildings that look like they’re about to collapse. As we near Lakewood Street, all kinds of emotions rush through me: what if we don’t get to him in time, what if …
My thoughts leave me when I see an old metal building which is completely different from all the other ones. its rather modern, unique, with the sentences or words plastered on the walls of it. Some saying things like “no more animal testing “, “stop Trump” (something I can really agree on an as a Korean immigrant). I pull off my leather seat belt and jump out of my seat. I rush out of the door the others matching my step. ,,Xiao, can you tell me everything you have on the victim and on the accident? Are the police informed?”, I ask. He gives me a quick run-down.
40 year-old male, Toby Brandford, teacher, lives alone (the favorite kind of victim for a killer), lives in apartment 201 (third floor), 3 children with soon to be ex-wife (Ximena Alcaraz), getting a divorce (in my books the detectives would already know who it was. The classic it was the girlfriend- move which I point out to my friends. I get shallow laughs in return probably because we’re sprinting or I hope that is why)
When we reach room 201, a tall woman stands in between the doorway. Brown eyes and dark brown hair give her a perfect intimidating look though right now she looks absolutely horrified, her hands shaking when guiding us into the room. I nod at my friends to help shouting Toby. “Hi what’s your name?”, I ask in my “everything is going to be alright my co-workers got it” voice. “Ximena”, she answers, her voice barely a whisper, still I hear the Latino pronunciation. I hear myself saying: “Ximena, what a beautiful name!” She gives me the I know you tell this to everyone but thank you – look which is true. I always say this to break the tension or to make the person feel comfortable. “Are you Spanish?”-” Yeah!” – “Could you please tell me what happened and who you exactly are?” – “Yeah, of course, my name is Ximena Alcaraz, I’m 35, I’m Toby’s soon to be ex-wife, also the mother of his 3 children.” – “Got it, may I ask why you’re here?” – “I was getting some stuff of the kids and I wanted to ask him if he had already signed the divorce papers. That’s when I saw his window opened and heard him screaming.” “That must have been horrible for you”, I say sympathy lacing my tone and continue with another classic: “Everything is going to be alright, my co-workers have it handled, don’t worry!”
Like on cue I hear a curse word coming from Xiao whose eyebrows are furrowed and he looks down right worried. ”Yoonchae, this would be a great time to show us your leader skills. We need your help!”, he shouts in Cantonese. By the way, Cantonese like Korean is my mother tongue. I could never decide as a kid what’s actually my mother tongue so now the both of them are. “Coming “, I shout back in Cantonese. Before rushing to Xiao, I try to give Ximena my most reassuring smile. “What’s the problem?”, I say in a rush, my neck prickling out of nervousness.
“He’s too far down, we are both too small to reach him!”, he answers me quickly. I already stand on the window case when he finishes his sentence. Like the perfect team we are, Rumi rapidly puts on a rope around my foot and ties a tight knot. Carefully, I go down inch by inch until I’m in reach of Toby. He is standing on a small piece of wood which is attached to the wall. It looks very shattered and beaten. Toby looks frightened as he keeps looking down and up again which makes me come to the realization that he has a fear of heights. My heart burns with sympathy and I am proud of how fast react to it. “Toby?” He looks up at me, shaking all over the place. He swallows audibly, his gaze returning to the bush next to the red fire truck. “Hey, everything is going to be okay, you hear me?”, I ask. He just nods looking down again. “Toby”! Our gazes clash and I say softly and carefully: “You need to give me your hand. I have two co-workers in your apartment who are ready to pull us up, don’t look down, nothing good will come from that, ok? Keep your eyes on me and concentrate, you’ve got this! Xiao, let me down a tiny bit more, okay?”- “I’ve got you “, I hear his soothing voice probably to calm down Toby.
Just as I reach Toby, he slightly oversteps the small wooden piece which makes him stumble. He screams loudly and I grasp his sweaty left hand. “Toby, give me your other hand!”, I scream at the top of my lungs. But he is still too focused on the ground to hear me. Come on, Toby!, my brain chants.
My heart races and blood rushes to my head. Too focused on the ground, he stumbles over the wooden piece completely. He screams so loudly the birds on the other side of the street fly away. I now have to hold his entire weight on my own. I try to reach for his right hand but it’s stuck to his side. “Give me your right hand!, I instruct. Tears start falling down his cheeks. He finally gives me his right hand and I release a tiny breath of relief. I grab it tightly and shout: “Pull us back up, now!!!” We reach the window case in no time, hands at my waist help me settle down for a second before with every ounce of energy I still have left, I pull Toby up.
I am covered in sweat. By the time I hit the carpet my body muscles give out on me and I slump against the wall. I close my eyes to slow down my heart beat, something soft hits my forehead, I reluctantly open my eyes to see Ximena offering me a bottle of water. I smile gratefully at her and down it in a couple of sips. In the corner of my eyes, I see Ximena talking to Toby who she is checking on. She takes his cheeks into her hands, rotates his head from right to left. She gently strokes his cheek and smiles at him softly. My heart warms at the interaction. Yeah, this divorce is so not happening I smile at myself like a fool. Rumi sits down beside me.
She looks over at Ximena and Toby and says in Korean with a dreamy sigh: “That divorce is definitely not happening. That looks so romantic!” “That was what I was just thinking, but romantic? No way he almost died!”, I respond in Korean in disbelief, this situation is a lot of things but so not romantic. Such a softie I laugh in my head. “Dumb people think alike!”, she winks at me and I roll my eyes. “I’m not dumb, you are!”, I respond with an exaggerated sigh. She laughs loudly and responds with a simple: “Yeah, well at least I can cook eggs without burning them”. I gasp like the drama queen I am: “You did not just say that, I almost died!” She drops her head back and laughs like a little maniac. “He almost died – not you!”, she says through tears in Korean. I pout like a toddler stand up ready to leave the room when Rumi, still laughing, says: “You can’t just go. We still have to wait for the police to find out what happened.” We link arms, cross the room to check up on our still shaking Toby.
Meanwhile Xiao is searching for things like a brain concussion. He nods in approval seeming to not have found anything. He picks up his first aid-kit and cleans a wound on Toby’s elbow. I kneel down to Toby to ask: “Everything okay?” He looks up at me, gives me casual shrug and says in a rather calm British tone: “Considering the circumstances, yes.” I give him an unconvinced look and look down at his wound. Following my gaze, he says: “I’ve had way worse wounds. That’s really just a scratch, no worries.” Still not convinced I throw a questioning look at Xiao. He replies: “It’s not deep and as long as you clean it regularly, it’ll be fine”. He gives me a reassuring look. But now the question I have been dying to ask is: “What happened, did someone push you, Sir? Maybe one of your students?”
He laughs wholeheartedly: “Oh no, I have some trouble makers at school but none of them would ever dare to go this far. It’s quite simple actually. I spilled my drink, went to the bathroom to get a fresh towel to clean the mess up, but apparently got so lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice the water and slipped forward out of the opened window. It’s honestly more embarrassing than a tragedy. It was simply my mistake and I take full responsibility for it.” ”Oh, thank God!”, we all say in unison. We pack our stuff and say goodbye. I turn to Rumi and Xiao and explain: “We still have to inform the police that they aren’t needed, not that they send police officers for no reason.” The three of us link arms, walk down the rusty wooden stairs. We nod in agreement. I propose: “We could to that on our way to a restaurant. Our shift is over anyway, right?” I get a heck yeah and a hell yeah as responses.
We walk across the street, take our seats. I look at my best friends and randomly blurt: “About earlier, that conversation is far from done, okay?” ”I know”, she answers quietly. She reaches over to give my hand a reassuring squeeze. My second little brother asks me, his tone laced with confusion: “What’s going on?” – “ I’ll tell you later”, we say as if we practiced it. We look at each other and I think to myself I might not be rich or anything close to that. But I am surrounded by people who would protect and be there for me no matter what. For that I’ll be forever grateful. I resume back to driving as the bickering between my two friends continues. They’re arguing about which restaurant it is going to be. “No one wants to eat Tacos”, Xiao finally snaps. We laugh at his adorable attempt to argue. He glares at us, turns on some music of BLACKPINK. We sing horribly but with lots of emotions on our long ride to the Taco Place (Yes, Rumi won the argument though she would never win one against me.)
The end.
Schreibe einen Kommentar