Across the Margin published What Happened to Sally, a short story about lives profoundly touched by tragedy, one that brings to light the potentiality of a domino effect of misfortune.
For years, everyone talked about what happened to Sally. I heard plenty during that time period, some of which was true and some lies. But I heard it first at home, when I was six, eavesdropping on Ma and our neighbor, Mrs. Shatterly.
I grew up in Queens in the ’60s, which was “the best time to be alive” if you asked my Aunt Muriel. You’d get a mouthful a’ teeth and a few spittle droplets with that comment, too.
In 1964, my little brotha was born and Ma became weird about too many people comin’ over to see him, not that that stopped anybody. My Uncle Kenny would do his double-shrug, with a nod to each shoulder, and say “If ya wanna see the kid, you gotta go through the big brotha.” Then he’d hand me a butterscotch candy from his pocket and swagger right in. No other such payments were made from other relatives or neighbors and, still, our apartment was packed with baby onlookers.
Our front door was revolving, with people always waltzing through to see the baby or play poker with Pop or gossip with Ma. I was the tag-along in my family’s full social life.
Uncle Kenny had a lotta smart things to say. “There’s a lotta holes in the ground, kid,” he’d tell me. “And a lotta problems are buried in those holes.” He’d give me a toothy side-grin and one of his winks before poppin’ a hefty cigar into the corner of his mouth.
It began to rub off on me. Once, I’d heard him shout, “I don’t give any motherfucka a kick-up!” He turned to me. “Charlie, what you earn is god damned yours, and you do what you gotta do to keep it.”
I didn’t know what any of it meant, but Ma gave me a mean bop! on the cheek when she heard me repeat it to my friend Bobby down the street.
One day, Ma got a visit from Bobby’s mom, Mrs. Shatterly, a few days after I said what I said that earned me the bop! I hid carefully in the hall and listened in, sure that Ma would tell her about what I’d said.
“Did you hear about what happened to Sally?” Mrs. Shatterly asked.
Intrigued? Keep reading! For the full story, click here.
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