|
I woke up late that day.
Checked my phone messages. I was
sure my friend Jennifer had to be joking.
Turned on the TV. Jesus. How could
this be? How many people must have been
harmed by this? Paced back and forth
listening to the news.
Images. Horrible images. Sick feeling in my stomach.
Like I'd been
hit. Numb.
How many people?
How many?
Been around
death, too close to it, all of my life. But this. This
could not be grasped
or made sense of.
Went outside.
The air is there. The sunshine. Birds are
racing singing everywhere.
But the world is not the same. It never will be
again.
Go back inside. Try again and again to get hold of my friend
Glen.
He lives so close.
Finally he emails me. Tells me, tries to tell
me, what is there.
"The world is coming to pieces."
That's what my friend
Jennifer had said in her message.
Horror.
Horror.
Horror.
Human
beings did this. People. They decided. They planned. And they did
this
horrible thing.
Back outside.
Toronto is only a few hours away
from New York. See the line up and
give blood.
Give blood.
Back on the
street.
Some guy on his bicycle screaming "The Jews did it! Fuck the
Jews!"
Long blonde hair. As white as white could be. I grab him and pull
him
off the bicycle.
So much anger in the air.
"Shut the fuck up." I
tell him.
"The Jews..."
I lift him off of his feet and slam him against a
wall.
"Not a fucking word!" I tell him. "Not one more word."
People have
stopped. Staring.
People did this. Not Jews. Not Muslims. Not
monsters.
People.
I leave him against the wall and move on.
Anger.
Hatred. It did this horrible thing and it's here right here.
People.
I go
into the convenience store. Not sure why. Just to do something
normal. The
old man that works there is Muslim. I've never seen his
head uncovered.
Until today. We've always chatted before. Now neither of us
says a
word.
Three neighbourhood types come in. One starts shouting at the
man
behind the counter that "Your people did this! Your people!"
The
other two join in.
The hatred is there.
The hatred is here.
I
go into control mode. I talk to them. Try to calm them. I convince
them with
my eyes that violence now would be a bad idea. I'm willing
to hurt them. I
want to hurt them. I want to hurt someone.
I walk them out the door.
The
man tells me I don't have to pay.
I pay him anyway.
Part of me feels the
same way the others had. A small part of me.
He's a nice old man and I can
see on his face that he is as horrified
by what has been done as I am. Why
do I want to hate him?
Because it would be so easy.
I apologize and I
walk out.
Still numb.
People did this.
Terrible thing.
"The world
is coming to pieces."
No.
Not yet.
Something has been torn in the
fabric of the world. Something has
been damaged. But the world is still
here.
There is no pain yet.
Not for me. Not in my safe place where
there's sunshine and birds and
buildings that still stand.
Not for
me.
There is only numbness for now.
But the pain will come. When the
numbers begin to come in and the
reality starts to take hold.
People did
this.
People.
That is the only answer to all of the questions swimming
through me.
It doesn't satisfy.
It doesn't help.
It just leaves
me...
Numb.
