The night he pieced together the roller blade shoes, I couldn’t sleep. I could hear him working from my bedroom. He was talking to the dog again but I couldn’t understand what he was saying. I struggled to keep my eyes closed. Not only did I hate starring into the darkness but I needed sleep desperately. The past couple of weeks drained me and I had headaches more often. I needed water. I turned on the light above my bed and reached over for my green water bottle. No water. I got out of bed and headed for the kitchen. The darkness in my house was thick and fog-like. When I reached the living room, I came face to face with the garage and the light peaked out of the cracks along the door.
Marlo’s sounds penetrated my inner most ears. How could everyone else in the house sleep with all of his noise? I filled up my water bottle. The water tasted so fresh and I thought of that lake last summer in New York where I swam naked every night. I had enough. I opened the garage door and told him to quiet down because I couldn’t sleep with all of his noise. He stood in the middle of the garage, a wire in his left hand and a roller blade in the right. Sorry, he replied. Good night I said and walked back to my room.
At night the garage was his safe place where the cement floors blocked the CIA from infiltrating his mind. He once told me that the cold floor kept them away. Sometimes his insomnia inspired him to pierce his ears and once the skin on tip of his nose with nails. Other times he designed new clothes. This time however, he found an old pair of roller blades in a box. He sawed off half of the roller blade with our uncles old, jig saw, and attached it to his shoes. He said they’d help him walk faster without triggering the transmitter lodged at the base of his spine. The CIA had installed it a few months before. If he ran, the transmitter would snap his spin in half.
The next morning, the roller blade shoes sat on the door mat. I almost tripped over them on my way out. “Damn it, Marlo!” I yelled. I could see him in the living room passed out on the couch with a blanket over his face. At least he got some sleep, I thought.
When I got to work I realized that I forgot my student file case on my desk at home, I didn’t need it until after lunch. At eleven thirty I’d have time to return home…
“Spitz where are my head phones? I need to find them because they block the waves… the radio waves.”
“I know where they are, Marlo. How many times must I tell you? Relax.” Replied the dog, standing, waiting eagerly to leave the house. “You need them, Marlo”
Marlos mind did a summersault in his skull causing his vision to blur and his hands to go numb. “I need more moose for my hair before I go outside, it will protect my scalp from the bees and fleas and trees and shees and he’s hahaha” he lathered the moose into his hands and rubbed it into his scalp.
Every Thursday after he gets a shot of psychotic meds he shaves his head. He hasn’t grown hair in years. “moose, goose, loose, moose, goose, loose, moogooloose.” He repeated over and over until there was no more moose in the bottle. He tossed it into the trash can but missed. He left it on the floor and searched for the dogs green leash. “we could use the red one, Marlo.” Urged the dog. “No. The red on is the color of the devil and I cant deal with him today.”
“right now. Right now.” Echoed the voices in the TV.
“Right now. Right now. I need those damn head phones, they are getting closer, I can feel them.”
“well its almost eleven thirty so lets go!”
“Lets go lets go” screamed the voices in the closet. Marlo jumped, he didn’t realize they would hid in his closet as well. “Go Marlo.” Oh no. he thought, they are close.
“I found the leash Spitz, com here.” The dog sat patiently and licked Marlo’s shin as he put the leash on. They both heard the door open and Spitz stood up on all four feet. His heart stopped and he knew the blood would stop flowing through his veins at any moment. His hands were the first to turn purple. He clapped them together, no feeling. He watched as the purple color slithered up his arm, it was getting very difficult to breath now. “Get it together, Marlo we need to get going.” He could barely hear Spitz now.
He stared at his hands. He hoped the dual vision would penetrate his skin and pump life back into his hands. He heard someone on the other end of the ho9use whispering his name. “don’t listen to them” Spitz urged, we need to find the hps.” Head phones.
Marlo was paralyzed. He felt the blood draining out of his toe nails. He could barely lift his foot because the blood was so heavy. “Marlo” whispered the voice at the other end of the house… “Marlo” he knew they’d come for him one day when he was defenseless but he didn’t know it would be so soon “Marlo” he heard the footsteps “Marlo” the walls began to turn black, or maybe his eye sight was fading “marlo9” concentration the air the air will do it. He knew it was almost over… “Marlo” the voice was outside of his door now. He felt the sound waves slap him across his bloodless, purple face. “Marlo”
The door open and Marlo tried his best to stay in his position in the middle of the room. “Keep quiet, Marlo” replied Spitz “remember what happened the last time.” Marlo did remember but now was not the time to think about the past he needed to get out of the house and he needed to get out fast. The agent arrived. “They disguised themselves as my sister” he thought quietly to himself. He tried to keep those thoughts inside of his head so they could not hear them. “Hi Sister. I’m going out for a walk. Going to test my new roller blade shoes. Nike is interested you know. They contracted me last night.” The woman he thought was a good disguise but he knew his sister was thinner and had longer hair. The agent they sent only had one dimple and his sister, he knew, had two. “So Valine, where did your other dimple go?” he said cleverly. If they knew he knew, they’d surely leave him alone. He knew this was a big game to them but he would not play by their rules.
I knew Marlo was delusional. I knew because he started to ask me about my dimples again so I told him he should chill and that I have always had one dimple. I left his room and got what I cam efor. “see you later Marlo.”
“No you wont.” He replied. He was buckling his roller blade shoes and held the dog’s old green, moldy leash. “why are you using the old leash, Marlo? It’s going to get the damn dog sick.”
“That’s what they all say.” Marlo chuckled.
“I’m going to find the headphones.”
“They are in my desk at work.”
“You stole them from me, eh you damn agent?”
“Marlo you gave them back …” but before I could finish, he slammed the door and I knew I had to get him help. Otherwise, he’d wind up back in jail. I called his probation officer who was out sick for the day. Maybe this time the police will help. I rushed to the police department to inform them of my delusional brother walking the streets. Marlo left before I did. I knew he would only be within a few blocks of the police department.
Marlo walked frantically. The dog pulled him, “hurry up, Marlo, I’m on to it!” But Marlo refused to run. Sweat dripped down the inner side of his arms.
Marlo walked frantically and he felt the roller blade shoe come lose and snap off in the middle of a deserted street. He knew it wouldn’t be deserted for long and he couldn’t go on without the shoe. He let go of the leash and bent down to fix his shoe. “I’m going to wait on the side walk, Marlo hurry up! They are coming! Listen Marlo can you hear it!?” Marlo couldn’t hear anything. The voices were screaming from the bushes and the trees and garbage cans laying flat on the side of the road, empty and deserted.
He reached over for the shoe. The voices began to hum quietly. He could hear the mechanistic sounds of his thoughts leaving his mind. They smashed together sometimes causing a fire cracker sound that usually made him jump but this time he just ignored it. He sat in the middle of the road fixing his shoe. A van approached. “Marlo!” cried Spits on all fours.
“I cant move!” Cried Marlo.
I remember the police report read suicide but I knew the real reason he sat anxiously in the middle of the street. When I reached the scene of the accident I saw the roller blade shoe on the side of the road. They said it was suicide but I knew otherwise. I looked up at the policeman who I spoke to an hour before, who denied helping me because he didn’t believe that my brother was a threat to himself, but what did he know? I knelt down and hugged the god. Spitz sat on my foot but I couldn’t get myself to cry. I looked up at the poor guy who hit him. He said he had been driving for hours . My eyes were dry. It wouldnt be long before my mom and uncle would arrive. I looked over my shoulder at the roller blade shoe then to the body bag and then to the vehicle that hit him.
The van read the California Institute of Art or CIA, perhaps my brother knew something we did not.
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