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|Side By Side (standard:humor, 3445 words)|
|Author: denis holzhauser||Added: Nov 19 2001||Views/Reads: 1890/1206||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Three dead and buried guys form a trio|
Introduction Up front,let me warn you that I am very probably the worst typist in the history of the world.I,also,ain't the best speller.If you attempt to read this little story and I find out that you,cowardly, gave up because of my short comings, I give you my word that, I will write a great many other stories,all with different nom de plumes,making your life as difficult as possible.DH. ========== The thing that bothered him was that he was on his back,he hated laying on his back.His wife knew that and he wondered why she had let them lay him out that way.He knew he was dead.He didn't know how long he had been dead,he didn't know whether it was day or night.He didn't know how he knew he was on his back,or how he could be laying here unhappy about it,or how he could see when it was pitch black in the coffin.He really only knew one thing for sure,only one thing was very clear to him,he was on his goddamned back and he couldn't do shit about it,so he thought he'd yell and he did."Shit!", he said as loud as he could. "Hey man,keep it down.This is a nice quiet place and we don't want any riffraff coming in and making a lot of noise." "Who's that?" he said. "Where are you and who are you and what the hell are you going to do to me if I don't stop yelling?" "This was a real peaceable place until they brought you into it", the voice said, "I'll try to answer all your questions,if I can remember them.My name is Aintwe,Robert Aintwe,but everybody always called me Spider because I was so skinny,and I sure ain't gained any weight since I' ve been here, so I guess you can go right on and call me Spider.I stay next to you on your left,you're to my right.I live here in my place,like you live there in yours,and I can't do much about your noisiness or lack of manners,except to stop talking to you,but there ain't nobody,no pun intended,but you and me here for us to talk to,so if you want to know anything else about what's going on,you're going to have to deal with me," Aintwe said. "Aintwe,Aintwe,what the hell kinda name is that? I never heard that name before.What is that? Some sort of Chink name? You Chinese or something?" "I'm something." "What the hell does that mean?" PAGE TWO: "I'm black,at least I use to be.I don't know what I am now.I died on December 27th,in nineteen forty one.I was nineteen years old at the time and the only people buried in this part of the cemetry then were black.After a while,whites began to be moved in.damned near ruined the neighborhood,that's a joke,you understand,this was the poorest part of the developement and it took an awful long time to fill up before you got here." "You mean I'm buried in the slum part of this place? I can't believe that,not even that bitch I was married to would do that to me." "Right,as lovable as you are,she probably couldn't wait to drop you any place handy." "So I got a black neighbor,and I understand that you've been dead for fifty years,and you're sixty nine years old and haven't read a book or a newspaper in all that time,so being the kind and generous type of white man you've probably always most admired in your short,poor and I expect unsuccessful life,I'll be glad to teach and amaze you with what has happened in the last fifty years." "Number one,this ain't no slum,it was perfect until you moved in.The whites and the blacks staying here got along real fine,course no one was talking to each other,that coulda helped,I guess.Number two,I'm nineteen years old still.You don't get any older after you're dead,even a white dummy like you ought to be able to figure that out.Number three,you and I are exactly the same,whatever we are.Being able to hear and communicate without talking or being able to make sounds;my being Click here to read the rest of this story (347 more lines)
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