I was plucked from the bridge like a ripe peach from a low branch. The authorities had responded to a call of a 'Man Dangling' from the big green bridge, and they assumed the man was me. I suppose I may have had a suspicious look about me, my face was dirty from automobile repair earlier that day, and I was in fact drunk.
I had not, however, been 'DANGLING'. I had not been seen 'Swinging', or even 'Crouching' on the bridge. Certainly not 'Threatening To Jump'. Lies! I'll tell you what happened now, and I will tell you the truths, honest and ugly alike. You will see I am not bragging or exaggerating. I am also NOT A LIAR. You should know this about me.
What had occurred that Halloween afternoon started much earlier in the day with a successful repair for a close dear friend, 'a save', a heater in an Alfa Romeo which was not working corrected.
After an even earlier breakfast appointment involving children, I was put in an especially jolly mood. Children, pancakes, funny hats, Halloween spirit, I was Lovin' It! I was so into it I almost forgot I had the Automobile and it's owner waiting for me at The Shop. Speeding from breakfast to shop I realized it was the last day of the month. I was slightly hung over, but maybe just one more day of drinking was in order before an extended dry spell was initiated? Was it a weekday?
I returned to my building to find my client and friend waiting for me. I explained I was late because of children. When in doubt and there are children to blame, blame THEM. Once that was all cleared up, and as I was rolling the garage door up, I asked Avery : IS it a weekday? What day is it?
"Sunday." She answered. "Why?"
I teetered on the fence (Not for the first time that day) this one the drinking/not drinking fence.. And then asked her "I'm fixing your car, right? Isn't that what we're doing here today?"
"I hope so. That's what we planned on, right?"
"YES!" I Agreed. I was feeling agreeable. I cut right to the chase though: "Can you go get us two or three bottles of champagne? This is a Last Stand. New Chapter. Whatever."
"UUUUUUnnggghhhh...." She complained "You PROMISED me you would fix this. Remember last week when you told me - "
I cut her short right there with a shrill screech and I beat at my head with the palms of my hands, again and again. This worked with most people. It took a little longer than usual, but Avery fell into the majority category and set off for the store to Make It Stop. "Alright, ALRIGHT! Jesus!" and she was gone, headed towards Safeway.
I got busy right then and there. A promise is a promise! I got right up under that dashboard and started to tear into things.
I'll abbreviate the next four hours for you: I removed the dashboard of the car. Avery returned during this process and began to pour mimosas for our enjoyment. I discovered a faulty stepper motor in the heater/AC module. I disabled this stepper motor and fixed the linkages in such a manner as to provide maximum heat at all times irregardless of thermostat setting, winter looming and all, I thought it the proper thing to do. I took a break for an hour to complain the recent romantic abomination I had been subjected to. I replaced the dashboard and other associated accoutrement. I finished the job. I finished the champagne. Towards the end of the job, another friend, Jason, had arrived unexpectedly with his WorkVan which needed some Fiddling With. He apparently knew it was not a weekday and the last day of the month (Could he sense the upcoming New Chapter about to begin? I still do not know) as he showed up with a full fifth of Vodka. Avery was given a brief sobriety test and deemed worthy for road piloting and she was released into the bright afternoon sunshine. Then, Jason and I got down to the Real Work. Man's Work. Within an hour and a half the vodka was gone, and whatever fiddling to be done had been done or forgotten entirely. Jason and I were sitting on matching parked scooters and engaged in some 'Girl Talk', much like two women in a pedicure salon, but without the beauty parlor thing happening. Instead of a beauty parlor we had broken machines and booze. Talk soon turned to my recent female tragedy, and my mood turned dark. This is where things began to go south, and fast.
"Outrageous Behavior!" I yelled, "Uncalled For!!" I drained the last drop of liquid from my cocktail glass, my hands smearing black grease on it's delicate glass stem. "UUUUnnngggHHH!" I yelled, in order to drive this point home.
Jason began to glance about nervously. He looked out the open roll-up door and towards the police station across the way. This is how trouble often starts here at The Shop, and he had seen more than his fair share of it recently.
"Maybe we should shut that door?" He suggested as a police cruiser slowly rumbled by, the driver's sunglasses reflecting the sunlight into our eyes and making us squint.
"Noooo!!!!! DOOOOOOOOoooN'T!!" I yelled and then stood up, knocking the moped over onto it's side. "Keee-YAH!" I screamed while pinning the bike to the floor with my black boot. "Try it!" I challenged the machine.
"Dude! Don't break your shit." Jason, now suddenly the Voice of Reason, tried to talk me down, then to distract me "Hey. Show me again how you can start that car with a hand crank."
I stared at him for a moment, fuming. I would not be so easily fooled! I pointed a finger threateningly in his direction, and despite my being twelve feet away from him, he flinched. Such is my power. "Do I look stupid?" I asked rhetorically, my do-rag filthy and sideways, my jumpsuit badly stained, my boots untied. Weaving slightly I continued : "You can't fool ME, Boy. I KNOW whatch're up to." He tried to speak, and I re-thrust my finger at him. He fell silent immediately. I continued: "YOU DON'T KNOW!" I paused, trying to think of something clever to follow this one up with, a house favorite, "You don't know... Diddly! Boy! Where's that bottle? YOU DON'T KNOW PAIN!"
"Bottle's empty." He replied. "Anyway, I think you've had enough."
"I'll show YOU pain, Boy! You don't tell ME! I'll tell YOU when the bottle's empty!" I Kee-Yahed the dying moped one more time then stumbled to where the bottle stood on top of my accordion case. I aimed the open end at my mouth and tipped the bottom of it at the ceiling. Nothing came out.
"This bottle is empty!" I told Jason.
"Dude. You want a taco?" Jason tried again to fool me with his Filipino Trickery. The scourge of Asia! Japanese and Chinese citizens will not allow them into their homes, even to clean them!
"I Told you already, I'm MISUNDERSTOOD! YOU don't understand me EITHER if you think I'm going to fall for your Taco Trick!"
"What trick? I just wanted to see if you wanted a taco. I'm buyin'. I have to go soon though.." He tried to convince me he was on the level with this Taco Business with an earnest attempt to steer the conversation back into reality and away from whats'-her-face with a reminder that other people had other things to do than listen to me. I was about to get All Quiet on him. He had no idea.
"If you want to go, just say so." I pouted. "I didn't mean to, like, TROUBLE YOU so much today. Now that your oil's changed I guess you can just eat and run. Don't worry about me : IT'S NOT LIKE I AM GOING TO FLING MYSELF OFF OF THE BRIDGE OR ANYTHING." I shouted over my shoulder to him, on my way out the open door towards the St. Johns bridge, just two blocks away.
I never got tired of this game. It truly was a House Favorite, my building less than a hundred yards away from the lovely and vertigo-inducing structure, I could not resist using this one again and again. My visitors enjoyed it as well, I could tell. That's one reason why I never tired of this one. It was a real Crowd Pleaser.
I marched in a comical fashion in the direction of the bridge waiting for Jason to call for me to return, which he did once, and then waiting for another call which never came. I kept marching. I kept marching, but a little slower. I marched slower still and tried really hard to see if I could hear his call for me to return from this far away. I did not hear a call, for unknown to me, my homosexual neighbor had just so happened to walk by at that very moment and engage Jason in conversation, oblivious to these goings-on. I had used the 'Flinging Myself From The Bridge' on him a few times too in the past, and I knew he enjoyed it as well.
I was not aware of the Homo's interruption of my little drama, and began to grow very upset that Jason did not yell again after me. I began to get upset. I began to think about how no-one loves me, maybe only my Gay neighbor, who ironically just set circumstances in an order in which would make me think no-one loves me. The Universe and it's Tom Foolery! Well, I can be stubborn at times, I can admit it, and I was drunk. When I get drunk, I get more stubborn still. What this means, is I was not about to give Jason the satisfaction of looking over my shoulder to see if he was looking at me or not! The Game was under way full throttle now! Mexican Standoff!
While Jason and Homo yibbled about Homo's credenza, I continued across the bridge. I was alone now, and crossing the bridge by myself. I started to think again about the last few weeks, and the New Chapter beginning in the morrow, and my anger began to turn to a melancholy, and by the time I was in the middle of the bridge, I may have been feeling sad. I didn't want to feel sad. It was sunny! New beginnings! Positive thoughts!
I did not want to feel sad. Sometimes, I can trick my mind into thinking it is not sad with some artificial unrelated act. I call it 'Punctuation'. I think of an act I can perform, and when it is over, I will not think about that thing that I was sad about any longer, or at least not feel sad about it. My act often requires intense heat or drawn blood, but not always. I got this idea in my mind while crossing the bridge that I would walk to the other side, turn around, and by the time I got back to my shop I would be done with That Thing. Easy. Simple. In the meantime, I would revisit as much of That Thing and That Time as I wanted to in the twenty minutes I had left to perform this act.
I set my mind free! I asked myself questions and wondered things. I got it all out. I yelled it to the bridge towers, and shook my hands over my head at the gods, like a guy in a movie in the dark when he is really upset. I may have shaken my hands at passing cars, too. I may have told those faces staring wide-eyed at me through those passing car windows all about my pain. I may have had to gesture a certain gesture a man can gesture to let someone know that all is not well. It was taking me a long time to cross that bridge, I tell you! I made it across, turned around and headed back. I was being Quiet and Serious now! I was marching, and marching the pain right out of my person! 'Let the healing begin!' I thought as I mentally marched across her face. I began to kick a little but too while I was marching. I imagined kicking her and I felt better. This was THERAPEUTIC. I had to tell Jason about this when I got back! Right then I looked to my right, and studied the Portland skyline about four miles away there, reflecting and glowing and casting shadows. I was in the middle of the bridge now, right over the middle of the river.
At that very moment, I noticed the Pink Building far off to the left, away from all the others. For the last few months I had been able to look at that building and judge from it's location where her office was, not far away. I used to look at that building and feel sort of good. This particular afternoon, I looked at that building and felt sort of angry. Stupid Pink Building! I hated that Pink Building now. I grabbed my crotch at the Pink Building and let it know just how I felt about it reminding me where her office was.
"FUCK YOU, PINK BUILDING!!" I shouted at it while grabbing my crotch. I did this several times. I was vaguely aware of a honk or two from the car traffic passing a few feet behind me in the street. I didn't care. This was between ME and that PINK BUILDING. Soon, crotch grabbing was not enough and I was flipping the pink building off with my middle fingers while screaming at it. Soon, this was not a powerful enough expression of my dislike of the Pink Building and I grabbed the guard railing and pushed myself up so I could be taller while I screamed at the pink building. I was jumping up and down screaming when my ring fell off and bounced under the railing and rolled away.
"FUCK!" I shouted, and tried to grab the ring before it fell in the river. Did the Pink Building make this happen? Did the Pink Building make my ring fall off? I looked up at the Pink Building, confused. There it stood, pink and defiant. Then , I heard a 'tink' below me somewhere. I looked over the rail, and there was my ring! It had impossibly fell about four feet away on the other side of the rail and about five feet below me and had impossibly come to rest there on a green girder. The Universe and it's Tom Foolery indeed! I stared at my ring for a minute, then I looked back up at the Pink Building. I made up my mind right then and there: I was not going to let the Pink Building get the best of me.
I am afraid of heights. You should know this about me. Despite my fear, I did not hesitate to hop up and throw one leg over the Guardrail and straddle it for a moment, finding my balance. In a few seconds I felt pretty secure and then I scanned for my silver ring. There it was. It sure seemed far away. I hesitated for just a moment before dropping the outside leg down to to platform there on the other side. I paused. I looked at my ring again. I looked up at the Pink Building. I looked down at the river, winking black and silvery a hundred feet below me. I looked back up at the Pink Building one last time, then my ring.
"FUCK THIS." I thought, and then reversed my movements to bring me back onto the sidewalk inside the guardrail. I leaned on the railing as a firetruck drove by, and all the firemen inside stared and yelled and gestured at me or the Pink Building behind me, I am not sure which. I began to feel like it was Time To Get Back To The Shop.
I began to walk quickly towards my end of the bridge. In a couple of minutes the firetruck passed me and honked as it went by. "That's odd." I thought. I kept walking. In about five minutes, I was almost all the way back when I noticed there was no more traffic on the bridge. Odd indeed! I began to get an ominous feeling that I should hurry home. I kept walking, feeling that running may attract unwanted attention.
That was when I heard someone shouting behind me "Stop! You! Stop!"
I pretended not to hear the voice. I was getting close to my building, and knew if I could put off an interrogation, I may be able to slip inside and lock my doors before my name was sullied. I kept walking, maybe even a little slower now. I may have begun to whistle and gaze adoringly at Mt.Hood far off in the distance there. What a lovely day it was!
The voice continued behind me "YOU! Stop!" I felt that if I had turned around to look it would be a mistake so I kept walking.
I was almost there. I was almost off the bridge when a cop car came driving up to me in the wrong lane and pulled right up to me with the lights on. The driver's door flew open, and a young officer had one palm up to me, while his other hand went down to the gun on his belt and unclipped the strap holding it there. "Whoa!" it said to me. "Hold on! Stop!"
In complete honesty, I could not tell if this officer was a man or a woman. I should say 'A boy or a girl', as irregardless of gender it appeared to be no more than fifteen years old. This officer was inexplicably NOT wearing reflective eyewear, which I thought was mandated by some ancient code. I am not joking: This police-person looked twelve years old! It's voice was very high too. I am not even trying to be mean or funny right now, it was a very strange thing to bear witness to there on the bridge like that. I have never heard a command issued in a voice bearing less authority. NEVER. Jason's Girls have deeper voices. I blinked my eyes and tried to make sense of this little person who was gesturing at me in a threatening manner and trying to make me comply with it's order.
"Are you speaking to me?" I asked the officer, and then finally looked behind me to see if in fact it was addressing some other person behind me. I was sort of surprised to discover several emergency vehicles with their blue and red lights spinning and about thirty people in a variety of blue uniforms crouched and standing and some following me on foot, some creeping slowly in the comfort of their cruisers. This was some thing! I began to worry a bit again. This didn't look cheap to me. The good people of Portland should not be footing the bill for such an unnecessary outing.
"Yeah!" It squawked like a hoarse Myna Bird. "We're here to help you! Sit down, Buddy!" Another patrol car pulled up behind this person and stopped, fortifying the numbers on their side.
"Me?" I asked again and looked around again to make sure this was really happening. It was. "I don't need help. What makes you think I want help?"
"Come on Buddy, just sit down here on the curb. We just got a call of a man dangling from the bridge. The firemen saw you." I could barely tell if I was being addressed in English or some foreign tongue, so odd was this voice.
"Dangling?" I asked, shocked, "What are you?" I asked.
"I am a policeman. I am officer Green. I am here to help you" It replied.
"I mean," I clarified, "are you a boy or a girl?"
"I am Officer Green, that's all you need to know. I am here to help you. Why were you jumping off the bridge, Buddy?"
"I was not jumping off the bridge. If I was jumping off the bridge, I would not be here talking to you right now," I argued, "I do not need help. Unless you want to help me figure out your gender, because I can not calculate what you are - "
"SIT DOWN, BUDDY." It was growing impatient with me. "Fireman said he saw you dangling. WE got another call from a motorist. SIT DOWN. I want to help you." It's hand was on the butt of it's gun now.
"Fine. Don't tell me then! There is no need to get nasty about it. " I sat in the curb, defeated for the moment.
Immediately I was surrounded by blue suits, but all stayed about ten feet away while Officer Green walked right up to in front of me, but not too close.
"Why were you going to jump?"
"Wasn't"
"Firemen said they saw you hanging off the bridge. Firemen don't lie. They got no reason to lie."
I thought about this for a moment, then countered with "Perhaps they do." I looked around at all the blue suits and emergency vehicles and badges surrounding me. "Maybe they say they see a man 'Dangling from the bridge' and they get to take their shiny truck out and make a few more bucks on a Sunday afternoon." I heard a small grumble erupt through the crowd. I was not finished yet "Speaking of 'dangling', are you going to tell me if you possess a 'Y' chromosome or not? Boy or Girl?"
There was a one-beat pause and then, "Have you been drinking?" Officer Green asked me.
"Yep." I answered "So which is it? Speak up! Boy or Girl??" I asked again.
"I think you're drunk. I think you're a danger to yourself." Officer Green threatened with a slight tap of his finger to the butt of it's gun. "I think you better get compliant."
"What? Are you going to threaten to shoot me here in front of all these honest firemen?" I was actually surprised at the gall of this Officer Green. It must be a boy. Or a lesbian. Same thing as far as this situation was concerned, I reckoned.
Officer Green then produced a notepad from someplace on it's person and began to write.
I asked things like : "Did you close off ALL the traffic?" and "Is this necessary?" and "Can I go now?", all of which was ignored by every person I attempted to make eye contact with around me. This lasted a minute or two.
"What's your name, Buddy?" Green asked me
I smiled for a minute and said nothing, thinking about the fix I was liable to be in, my current legal proceedings still unresolved somewhere there in the high courts of Multnomah County.
"NAME!" I was asked again
"Zak." I said, surprising myself with this honesty.
It wrote this in it's pad.
"Last name?"
"Steve." I said, surprising myself with this fabrication.
"Steve?" The officer asked, looking irritated. I had to be careful here.
"VENS." I made an adjustment "STEVENS, I said"
"Where do you live?"
Again. I needed a quick sharp mind. I thought hard. I was drunk and did not have a quick sharp mind. I began to make things up. "Here. There. Not WAY OVER there though, but sometimes inside out. Nine-oh-niner, in a basket - "
"Oh, Homeless huh? Transient? That so Zak?"
THANK YOU, OFFICER GREEN! Brilliant!
"Yes. It is an embarrassment. I have no home other than that place upon which I lay my person. Ever since those Democrats took over, a Man has a hard time of scratching his way. " When I get drunk, I don't sound drunk. You should know this about me. My behavior may be drunken and ridiculous, but my speech is not. Well, not until the point when I begin to vomit. I was not there at this time, however. "May I go now?"
"You got some ID on you, Zak?"
"No. My identification was taken from me by a vicious groundskeeper at the local Safeway. I wanted to talk to you about that later. Once we are through here. May I go?"
"Just a couple more questions." That sounded hopeful! Would I be released soon? "Ever been in the hospital? Got mental problems, Zak?"
"No. No. Can I go?" I was finding myself becoming angry again. "Can't a man go for a walk across the bridge without being detained? What happened to liberty?"
"Ever been arrested? Ever hurt yourself?"
"No and no. Well, I ran over my thumb last month with a shopping cart while I was collecting cans. See?" Officer Green looked at the thumb. I began to laugh. "Made you look!" I clapped my hands in joy. There were a few chuckles amongst the blue throng.
Getting angry now as well as embarrassed, Officer Green persisted "How much have you been drinking today, Zak? You do drugs? What else are you on?"
Feeling bolstered by the chuckles in response to my chiding of Officer Green I pushed it "I don't do drugs. I forget how much I drank. It has been one of those days. WOMEN! They'll drive a man to drink! Speaking of which, your voice sure is high. Anyone ever tell you that before?" There was one or two snorts amongst the policemen. I felt my release was imminent. "Can I go now?"
"NOPE. NO WAY." Officer Green told me with satisfaction, snapping the notebook closed. "We don't let jumpers go." Was this person teasing me? I looked around at the rest of the group, who I felt I had won over with my witty banter. All faces stone suddenly. "You want to step over here to the car, Zak? Can you put your chest there on the hood of the car for me?"
I closed my eyes for a moment a realized I had lost this game. There was no easy release now. I was going for a ride in the back of this police car now. Fuck! I was getting really pissed now. I looked back up and noticed traffic was moving now, albeit in two of the four lanes only. Every car that passed had faces pressed against the glass facing me, people gawking. I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath and then stood up. I weighed my options for a moment. I was interrupted with
"Over here, Zak. On the car. Hands behind your back." With that I snapped and was suddenly all-in. Fuck it.
"Alright, Pee-Wee! A man can not cross the bridge without having to tolerate your piercing voice and charade of authority? Is this because you are so short? Tell me, do you feel taller right now? ARE YOU A BOY OR A GIRL??!?" I walked slowly towards the car though, aware that I was not in charge. I was about to be humiliated.
"Stay there, Zak. Officer Taylor is going to place handcuffs on you. Are you going to co-operate?" A young attractive woman in a policeman's uniform emerged from the group of officers and walked towards me. Instantly falling from my mouth was "That's RIGHT! It's HALLOWEEN! We have Slutty Cop! Cuffs? SUUUUUURE! Please! Officer Taylor?" I asked as she moved behind me and clamped my wrists painfully behind my back, "Can I have your phone number? For when this is all over? I think I have a use for you and your particular skillset"
Not impressed, she walked somewhere out of my line of vision, and all vibrations around me had turned dark and unpleasant. I was going too far, once again. I was not being funny, although I felt like I was doing some of my best work. I was yanked backwards by Green who whispered near my head "Howya' like my voice now?" Then louder, for the rest of the dwindling group "Gonna' put you in the back of the car now, Zak, watch your head." With that the rear door was opened and I was guided safely into the back seat. I went too far, I suppose. Now was no time to quit though. I began to yell.
"Wait until my lawyer hears about this! When a man is handcuffed for no good reason, stripped of his liberties? My lawyer is going to make MINCEMEAT out of you, Green! MY LAWYER IS GOING TO CUM IN YOUR MOUTH, GREEN!"
"What'd ya say?" said officer Green, now climbing into the driver's seat, black wire mesh separating us. "I couldn't hear you back there."
"Oh, GREEN. I CAN'T WAIT FOR MY LAWYER TO GET A HOLD OF YOU. I am curious if he is going to fuck your mouth or your ass first. THAT is what I am curious about. You made a big mistake, PeeWee. "
"Right." Green put his shades on and started the car. "YOU have a lawyer. Got it. I'm worried." It squeaked "Buckled up? Here we go!"
The car pulled away, and I locked eyes with a person standing there on the sidewalk. It took a moment, but I soon realized it was Jason. He was standing there, looking confused as he saw me being driven away in the back of a police car yet again. "Jason." I said quietly to myself.
"What was that?" Green asked, now bolder that there was no audience, just it and I in the car. "By the way, I'm a Male Officer. I'm 26. Tell your lawyer."
I was actually surprised and a "Really?" popped out of my mouth. I soon found my composure however and continued insulting him "Well, my lawyer, BRIAN SCOTCH, may not be picky. I have a feeling HE will give you an old-fashioned fucking no matter what you are." I paused. "Really? Why don't you grow a mustache?"
"I Can't." He said, eyeballing me in the rear view mirror. "You really got a lawyer?"
"BRIAN. SCOTCH. You are going to FEEL HIM, Green. And Lawyer Bill may get in on it too, but I am not sure how they will do things with someone as small as you, if they take turns, or share. Lawyer Bill would probably like to take his shot, I would think. Brian Scotch writes a mean motion. He is as equally well known for writing motions as he is for fucking cop's faces. He is going to like yours, I think, all smooth like that." I smiled at green in the rear view mirror. He looked away first. I had him. "You should try to grow that mustache soon."
"How do you have a lawyer? You're homeless."
"You don't know everything, Green. Grow a mustache. You're really 26?" This was starting to not be as much fun anymore, and I felt bad insulting this kid. He probably got made fun of all the time for his voice and the way he looked.
"What do you mean 'You don't know everything'? Yeah, RIGHT. Yeah, I'm 26." He kept driving. My wrists hurt. I began to struggled a little bit, suddenly not feeling bad for this cop who had decided to take me away from my walk.
"My wrists hurt. These handcuffs are too tight." I struggled enough for him to notice in the front seat. "OUCH. I hope they don't leave bruises. MY LAWYER WOULD LOVE IT IF MY WRISTS WERE BRUISED WHEN HE TAKES PICTURES OF THEM TOMORROW." I pulled harder at the cuffs while glaring in the rearview mirror at Green.
"Your cuffs are tight? Stop pulling at them." I pulled harder. I can tolerate a lot of physical pain when I try to, I have developed a method of ignoring pain. You should know this about me. I made a face to let him know I was hurting myself.
"They're tight." I told him. "There will be bruises. I can NOT WAIT for Brian to see them." The cruiser's blinker began to flash and Green was trying to pull over to the right "Hey Green, can you push a shopping cart? Like to be on your feet all day? Because when Brian gets through with you, the only job you are going to be able to get is as a Shopping Cart Boy at Fred Meyer."
"Keep Talking." He said, although now sounding unsure of himself. I began to feel smug, but then suddenly remembered: I never made it back across the river to home, I never completed my 'Punctuation', this was not over. I thought about it for a moment and got upset, then polarized: Green kept me away from my resolution. He was going to pay!
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