Shapes of Pain, by Jerry Vilhotti

There was the green-eyed monster lurking
downstairs in the dark. The green-eyes stood nervously peering with its
shining eyes glowing from first among black chunks of coal and then by the
boy's chemistry set and then under the tomato basket once used when Johnny
had played basketball; before his older brother Tom told him that the
green-eyed monster had taken the cellar. Johnny would penetrate its bowels
only when his mother asked for foodstuff. They were kept in the back.
Often to show he had not been so frightened, he would climb the many steps
and then pause to throw an imaginary basketball toward the hanging basket.
He made the ball rim the opening twice before willing it to go in as he
shook his fist to the shadows before continuing up and then closing the
door - making it become an eyelid to cover the green-eyes that he had felt
on him all the time.
This day alone in the house of seven rooms, his two older brothers had
gone far far away, he decided he would get the green-eyes. He took up the
BB gun and shook it to bring forth the sound that reassured him he would
have enough ammunition to do the job of producing pain ... it was a
beautiful day in Maryland, not far from the shipyard where his father was
working at building ships to ward off the enemy "poised" on both shores
ready to devour a near-frenzied divided nation, as he and his much older
brothers swam naked in the same waters that carried ships on their journey
to war. He never realized how often his brothers had stood behind him but
he never once fell backward; instead, he charged ahead in heaps of splashing
water away from their looming shadows. The three of them dressed slowly at
the water hole and began their mile long walk back to the building where
their apartment was tucked inside up on the third floor next to an attic.
His brothers suggested they fall down beneath the giant tree since it was a
Friday afternoon and always their parents would be shopping for food. With
long tubes of grass sticking out of their mouths, Johnny looked up to the
sky and said to himself: We three are here. Leny One N is fourteen, Tommy
is thirteen and I am six! So busy doing this a few times, Johnny did not
see the looks his brothers were exchanging before they said,"Hey kid, let's
go to the room. We'll play king of the bed! We couldn't play that game in
The Bronx because you always slept in Papa's and Mama's room!"
Never having heard of such a game that almost sounded as fun as playing
in flashing water, he acquiesced.
Their bodies vehemently pushed against his. They were hurting him. he
attempted to get up but they held him face down and promised him they would
be more careful; especially if he relaxed which would stop his behind from
puckering up in tenseness; they "guaranteed" him there would no longer be
any pain but Johnny could not relax and they continued to hurt as they
attempted vehemently without success to get inside him.
"Hey kid, no telling anybody about our game. You won! You pushed us
off the bed at the same time. You won. OK? OK? If you do tell then you
won't be a brother of ours. You'll never be our brother again!"
Johnny would not tell. When he became a man he would even forget he had
brothers ....
Eleven year old Johnny opened the cellar door, of their one family home
by the swamps, slowly; making the stairs appear in a murky shadow. He
carefully negotiated one stair at a time. He could feel the green-eyes on
him. He shook the gun again reproducing the reassuring sound and there
among the cans and packages of foodstuff - he saw the green-eyes darting
from side to side.
He fired off several shots. The painful cries of his pet tomcat Tippy,
who had once jumped upon an attacking dog that was about to bite eight year
old Johnny, almost sounded human. For the rest of his life, Johnny would
never forget the pain he created on another to make his own pain go away and
every night in his blessings of all his loved ones, he would recall Tippy
with no pain. Tippy. Tippy. Tippy. END