Stalled

Posted by Ange

December 4, 2008

: human in there

: proof of impact

: face in a jar

: public private

: alone

: impossible conditions

On Saturday we saw a man trying to commit suicide. He had one leg hooked over the bridge railing and was staring towards the lights of the Inner Harbour. It was night and he was dressed in a dark track suit with sneakers and white socks. He strode purposefully over the bridge and stopped off centre where he hooked his leg and stood staring at the water as we drove by. We turned the car around and stopped in our lane right behind him.

I asked him if he was okay and he didn’t answer. I asked again and he still didn’t answer. He had his leg hooked over the railing and just stared towards the harbour. I could feel the distance between us. It was like a cement glass bubble. The sensation made my fingertips itch.

We drove across the bridge and called the police. He sat down on the sidewalk and put his head in his hands.

We drove across the bridge again in the opposite direction. He stood up again and put his leg back over the railing.

I got out of the car and watched him from one end of the bridge. We were both dressed in black. The water was dark. I spied on this man as he worked up the despair to jump.

Two people drove by asking about him. I told them I had called the police.

I watched. I thought about what would happen if he jumped. I would run into the water after him. I thought about his life stopping. How the world would miss him. like a painting missing a colour. You would notice the absence. The agony his mother would be in without him. My neck hurt with the tension. I watched. It was cold. The street lights were cold and orange. The police came and stopped in the middle of the bridge. The flashing lights of the police car were cold. The siren barked.

I left.

I got into my warm car with my family and we drove to our home that smelled of coffee.

As I write this I want to cry.

Life in General