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Main –› Entertainment –› Story Reading
 

The Ledge (1957--a Sketch((Now in Spanish and English))

 

The Ledge

[1957] It was during this time when I would come to visit Mike Reassert, mostly in the summers, but all year round for the most part (I was ten years old back then, Mike was nine). Sometimes it was early in the mornings and I'd throw rocks at his window to wake him up, but Mike would never wake up that easy. Oh no, it was not so simple, He slept like an old rock, similar to an old man that dozes off to sleep and it takes a knock on the head to wake him up, or two or three; all in all, Mike never had a hard time sleeping for sure. He had a bed close to a window, and they had a one room apartment, that is to say, there were two beds on one side of the room, a rope dividing Mike from his parents, and a blanket used as a divider. Thus, Mike slept right next to the blanket, and his parents but a few feet away, beyond the blanket, against the wall. There was a small separate kitchen, with a corner table, room from two people to seat, one at each corner. And in the main room were an old sofa chair, a standup ashtray, and a black and white TV set.

As I was about to say: but then neither did I have a hard time sleeping back then, I suppose, with all the energy we had he and I, we slept well when it came nighttime; yes, ah, yes, we exerted our energy on our daily adventures, it was a wonder where we found all that vigor in the first place.

In any case, I would"after having thrown the rock"I would, figure, I perhaps should throw another rock; if I had to throw another rock, but I was always a ting apprehensive I'd bust the window"in consequence, I told myself: 'Go to: 'Plan B'1"yes indeed, and that is what I did, most of the times. And so through the front building door I'd go, climb the three flights of stairs, rush through the hallways, open a few more doors on the way, so the light would chase the dark away". (There was a pale-smell, of moss like odor in the building, as if it had old wet books"at one time"in there, in there for a hundred-years and so, and when they'd dried out, they had left something behind; the smell disturb me, yet, somehow I got acclimated to it"kind of; I say, I almost became unconscious to this acclimation process"how possible, I don't know, or perhaps I do, that is to say, anyone that can work in a slaughterhouse, as I did some years later, and not smell the putrid-ness of it, has gotten acclimated to the maximum: so it is believable. Then I'd lay open the window at the end of the hallway, on the third floor, next to Mike's apartment, overlooking the dumpster. There, there to his right was a ledge, a fat, not fat, a wide heavy looking kind of ledge, not too disturbing, and so I'd step out on it, and over to the side was his window, Mike's window, and Mike's head was usually by the window; or under his covers, and I normally could tell his shape, so if he wasn't in bed, he'd be in the kitchen or bathroom in the hallway and I'd wait until he came back in the apartment.

After a few taps on the window, Mike would normally wake up"look once or twice to see if it was me (who else), rub his eyes, look surprised and open the window (the few times he didn't his father or mother would say, 'your buddy's at the damn window again, can't he use the door for gods...sake!'') and he'd get dressed, and we'd go running off to the wild-blue-yonder again: which was really some place, any place throughout the city of St. Paul, Minnesota. And accordingly that's how it was: we were both impatient, and waiting to be teenagers. And then when we were, well, that's another story.

Written 2002/revised 8/2005

In Spanish
Translated Nancy Penaloze

La Repisa

[1957] Fue durante este tiempo cuando yo venia para visitar a Miguel Reassert, sobre todo en los veranos, pero todo el ao principalmente (yo tena diez aos aquel entonces, Miguel tena nueve aos). A veces era temprano por las maanas y yo lanzaba piedras en su ventana para despertarlo, pero Miguel nunca se despertaba tan fcil. Ah no, no era tan simple, l dorma como una vieja roca, similar a un anciano que se queda dormido y necesita un puetazo a la cabeza para despertarlo, o dos o tres; en general, Miguel nunca tena un tiempo difcil para dormir seguro. l tena una cama cerca de una ventana, y ellos tenan una habitacin de apartamento, es decir, haba dos camas a un lado de la habitacin, una cuerda que divide a Miguel de sus padres, y una manta usada como un divisor. As, Miguel dorma al lado derecho de la manta, y sus padres unos pies ms lejos, ms all de la manta, contra la pared. Haba una pequea cocina separada, con una mesa de esquina, el espacio para sentarse dos personas, una en cada esquina. Y en la habitacin principal haba un viejo sof, un cenicero levantado, y un televisor blanco y negro.

Como estuve a punto de decir: pero en aquel entonces tampoco yo tena un tiempo dificultoso para dormir, supongo, con toda la energa que nosotros tenamos l y yo, dormamos bien cuando venia la noche; s, ah, s, ejercamos nuestra energa en nuestras aventuras diarias, era esto una maravilla donde encontrbamos todo aquel vigor en primer lugar.

De cualquier modo - Y poda-despus de que haber lanzado la piedra-Yo me imagino, yo quizs debera lanzar otra piedra; si lanzar otra piedra, pero yo siempre estaba un poco temeroso, yo podra romper la ventana - en consecuencia, me dije: "Vaya": "Plan B 1" - s de verdad, y es lo que hice, la mayor parte de las veces. Y entonces yo iba a travs de la puerta delante del edificio, suba las tres escaleras a prisa, precipitndome por los vestbulos, abra unas puertas ms en el camino, entonces la luz persegua el oscuro camino-. (Haba un olor plido, como olor de humedad en el edificio, como si tuviesen libros mojados - de una poca lejana - dentro de all durante cien aos y as, y cuando ellos se haban secado, ellos haban olvidado algo; el olor me molesta, todava, de algn modo me fui aclimatando a esto- de alguna forma ; digo, casi me hice inconsciente a este proceso de aclimatacin - como fue posible, no s, o quizs lo s, es decir, alguien que puede trabajar en un matadero, como hice algunos aos ms tarde, y no oler el ptrido de esto, se ha aclimatado al mximo: entonces es creble. Entonces yo poda abrir la ventana al final del vestbulo, en el tercer piso, cerca al apartamento de Miguel, pasando por alto el basurero. All, all a su derecha haba una repisa, una fuerte, no fuerte, una amplia y pesada clase de repisa, no demasiado inquietante, y entonces yo me trepaba sobre ello, donde estaba la ventana de Miguel, y la cabeza de Miguel estaba usualmente por la ventana; o bajo sus cubiertas, y yo normalmente poda decir su forma, as l no estuviera en la cama, l estara en la cocina o el cuarto de bao en el vestbulo y yo esperaba hasta que l volviera al apartamento.

Despus de unos tropiezos sobre la ventana, Miguel normalmente despertaba, daba una mirada encima un par de veces para ver si era yo (quin ms), frotando sus ojos, miraba sorprendido y abra la ventana (las pocas veces que l no lo hizo, su padre o madre decan, "tu compinche en la maldita ventana otra vez, no puede l usar la puerta por providencia...bien! ") y l se vesta, y nosotros nos escapbamos hacia el "salvaje azul all " otra vez: que era realmente algn lugar, cualquier lugar en alguna parte de la ciudad de Saint Pal, Minnesota. Y en consecuencia esto es como era: ambos ramos tan impacientes, y esperando ser adolescentes. Y luego cuando nosotros fuimos, bien, esto es otra historia.

Escrito 2002/revisado 8/2005

Author: Dennis Siluk
 
Author Bio:

Dennis Siluk

Writing is more than a hobby for me. It's a passion, one of the ways I capture and celebrate life.

This article can be searched using: digital storytelling, online story reading, digital story telling, the art of storytelling
 
 
 

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