Louis shut the taxicab on his
failed date and mumbled loudly, because it was New York City after all, “Of
course.” Thoughts filled his mind of the I train to the J train and if he could
make to the 16th street subway station in four minutes. Right as he
was raised his hand to hail a cab instead, he saw him, the kid that ruined his
night, slapping fives and parting with half of his entourage. Louis waved the taxi
away that had stopped on the curb next to him, zipped up his coat and pulled
down his hat. He watched the kid in the letterman jacket running out of jokes
and walking more seriously, as with the fatigue that comes from being cool.
Louis followed him and his remaining friends, thoughts not
racing through his mind but crawling in and festering one at a time. He thought
of waiting until the kid was alone and choking him from behind or grabbing him
by his hair and throwing him into the brick side of a building. He thought
about that until he scared himself, and decided against it more to spite his
date than from the brutality of the idea. He thought of calling the police and
making up a story and imagined the kid getting roughly apprehended and pushed
into a police car while he protested with watery eyes. He thought of paying some big homeless man to beat him up. Of all the thoughts that
came in and out of Louis’s head, the only one that remained consistent was to
follow the kid.
Eventually the kid was alone, in
the only way one can be alone in New York: internally. The kid managed to softly
chuckle to himself a couple times as he walked, remembering different moments
from the night that were especially funny or made him look exceptionally good. The
streets turned softer, streetlights flicked on and off, and houses sprung up as
Louis continued to follow. The kid finally arrived home at a small white house
with a broken gutter and sprung up the stairs like he’d done since his family
moved there when he was eight. Louis stopped one house before and straightened
his hat. His knees locked and he thought for a few seconds about retreating
home. Then he walked through the grass, shuffled his feet up the steps and
landed four quick knocks on the front door.
The running thoughts were nice in the second paragraph, indicating the indecisiveness of the character. The imagery in the last paragraph is especially good at setting mood -- the broken gutter in particular.
ReplyDeleteOne thing is impeding the energy here -- the constant switching of point of view. We have both Louie's thoughts and the kid's thoughts. If you watch the scene, you'll see how focused it is on Louie's point of view. This is why, when the kid suddenly becomes human and sympathetic, it's astounding.
Some strong work, though. I'm glad you attempted it.