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By Pasha Malla Last night it rained men, and by gum, it wasn't pretty. At about a quarter past nine they started coming down, gradually at first, then this great shower of bodies unleashed by the heavens. There were all types: men in suits, men in pajamas, bald men, fat men, Haitian men, gay men, men so drunk they could hardly make out what was going on--the lot of them tumbled hollering from the sky, arms and legs flailing and thrashing like they were trying to swim their way back up into the clouds, and carrying on like that the whole way down, right up until when they landed with a dull thud onto the earth. You'd hear the bones snapping, tearing through muscle and skin, and they'd just be this silent mess lying on the pavement, or wherever they happened to land. It started inconspicuously enough: I heard a "THUMP!" and looked up from the soup bowl I was scrubbing, out the kitchen window and onto the front yard, where a man was lying in my tulips. At first I figured it had to be Mr. Henderson from down the road, who has a tendency to fall asleep in people's gardens on his way home from the pub. But this chap seemed a bit thin, and he was done up in linens--not the usual golf shirt and bblue jeans--with skin that seemed a lot blacker than I remember Mr. Henderson's. A few minutes passed, and then another fellow dropped out of nowhere and crashed through the branches of my cherry tree, which really is a shame because it was just starting to blossom. This one ended up sprawled on the lawn like a pile of sticks, with all those lovely white petals sprinkled around him. So I put the dishtowel down and went over to Janis's. I took my umbrella, which I can't think now would've done much good had one of those men come crashing down on top of me. As it was, the second I rang the doorbell, a chap of about sixty or so landed on Janis's house--how he didn't go through and into the sitting room I'll never guess--and came sliding down onto the driveway, right beside Janis's new Honda. His skull was split open like a coconut, and the poor fellow's brains were oozing out of it in a mess of pinkish, grey, mealy worms. Janis opened the door and, wild-eyed, whisked me inside. Janis used to be a nun. She turnned to me with a dazed look on her face, crossed herself and whispered "Hallelujah, Mae. It's raining men." "Darn tootin'," I said, nodding. There was a crash from outside. We moved to the front window and looked out--across the road a new man was draped over the hood of the LeBlancs' Pontiac, his head punching a hole through the windshield. Of course these days it's just Daniel at the LeBlancs', June having passed on at Christmas--only two months after my Larry. But at least with June gone, between Janis, Elise Gammel and me, we've got even numbers now for on our whist nights. Then it really started coming down--an out-and-out downpour. Men came tumbling out of the sky from everywhere, hundreds of them. Janis's poor house was getting bludgeoned by them, and we stood in her living room listening as they slammed onto her roof, watching as they crashed into her garden. Dead men started piling up in the road two and three deep, those landing on top afforded a sort of cushion by the rest, and surviving. Some of these lucky chaps started crawling around over the mound of bodies, their limbs dangling at precarious angles. This was a bit off-putting. "Let's turn on the weather," I suggested. I sat down on the couch. Janis eased into the spot beside me. On the television a woman stood before a map of the country, pointing to our town. She seemed to be going about it all with a decided air of professionalism, explaining calmly about our raining men. I caught something about a high pressure system before Janis interrupted. "She's good, this weather girl." I had to agree. "You bet your socks she is, Janis." At this we turrned and looked at one another. Janis's face was wet like paper, her eyes little puddles of milky blue. Gently, I took her hand in mine, turned it over, felt the ridges of bones and veins snaking beneath the skin. And then, before I knew it, Janis fell into my arms, her mouth found mine and she kissed me, hard, and I kissed her back. We held each other like that, faces locked together, while outside the rain of bodies thundered into the house like a thousand persistent salesmen, begging to be let in. If you would like to link to this story, please use this link. | ||
