The Stuntman
By: Timothy O'Neill
Tags: Short Fiction, Short Story, Friendship, Relationships, Fiction

The Stuntman

Image by Martin Winkler from Pixabay

I sat on one rail and Josiah sat on the other. We faced each other and smiled. This was the last day before school started and we were determined to end summer break with a bang. Josiah had always been like a miniature stuntman, getting into all sorts of trouble around the neighborhood because of his antics. Once he had skateboarded down Tanner Hill, straight across Merry Lane, and all the way down to the bridge at Reese and West. With his eyes closed. Another time he was on his roller blades and he had taken hold of the back of a DPW truck and let it take him halfway across town. Then there was the time he hopped the fence at Mr. Johansen’s place. Josiah said he was going in to check on the living conditions of the dog. ‘A mission of mercy’ he called it. I called it downright suicidal. “Ben,” he said to me. “A happy dog doesn’t bark that much.” The dog turned out to be a Tibetan Mastiff who had food, water, toys and the run of the yard. He was just one mean sonofabitch. Josiah managed to get away, like he always did. Most of him at least. The dog bit off his right pinky finger. “That was poorly planned,” he told me.

And now this. Whatever this was. I don’t know why I was smiling. Josiah was just an infectious personality. He had a light in him and nothing and no one could snuff it out. The year before his older brother, Terrence, had tried to commit suicide by overdosing on pills and booze. He told his friends he couldn’t live in a world where nothing made sense.

“He should’ve asked me, Ben,” Josiah said. “I would’ve told him it made perfect sense. People with power get more and people without power get less. It’s a dark world at times, but the second you give in to despair is the second the bad guys win. And the bad guys don’t get to win. Not this time.”

“So putting your life on the line doing crazy stuff is the answer?”

“It shows people we aren’t afraid to play. We aren’t afraid to take hits. It makes them think, if only for a moment, that maybe he’s crazy like a fox. See, if you can get their attention, you can take their power away.”

“Josiah, you’re thirteen.”

“Yeah?”

“We’re supposed to be playing video games, drinking Mt. Dew and eating bags of Doritos. And maybe, I don’t know, smoking a little weed.”

“True. But this will be more fun.”

And so he lured me to the train tracks and I had a wide smile on my face and Josiah’s face was flushed and he was kicking the pebbles around to expend some of his nervous energy.

“We have to slap hands as we cross paths or it doesn’t count,” he said.

“Okay. I still think they’ll stop.”

“No they won’t. We’ll be hiding in the shrubs. You go when you see me go.”

“We’re drawing a crowd.”

Josiah waved to the cluster of kids taking up spots by the road.

“And how are you, my darlings?”

“You’re going to get killed, you idiot,” said one girl.

“It’s going to flatten you like a penny,” said another.

“I’m telling!” said a young boy.

Everyone BOO’ed him into submission.

My heart was hammering in my chest. I didn’t want to die. Not for a silly stunt. Kids got killed by trains every year. It was a rare occurrence but it happened. I had Googled it. Some accidents were no fault, some were operator error and some were the result of kids not taking trains seriously enough. I respected trains. I had always had a soft spot for trains, actually. I liked the way they ran along rails that had already been laid down for them. It meant someone had blazed a trail for them, so now they could follow along. Once you got on a train you knew it was going to get you where you needed to go, you just had to be patient. I thought back to my grandmother who had died last year. In dying, she had blazed a trail in the darkness and one day I would follow.

“Ben! Down! Down!”

I ran over to the shrubs and crouched down. Josiah was already in position. Here it came, picking up speed as it rumbled along.

The kids were dead silent. I took a quick look behind me. Some had their phones out and were recording. Some had turned around. Some looked bored. The boy who had spoken up was crying.

It was almost here. Almost. What the hell was he waiting for?

Suddenly Josiah burst from the bushes and I did the same and we flew in front of the train. I put out my hand. Josiah grabbed it and wrapped me up in a bear hug. I screamed.

Then he pulled us off to the side and onto the ground just as the train went whizzing past.

My whole body was shaking. I couldn’t speak.

Josiah stood up and the crowd cheered and applauded. He took a bow.

“You’re friggin’ nuts man!”

“The craziest kid I have ever known!”

“I think I just peed myself.”

“You won’t make it to fourteen, Josiah.”

“Congrats. You two are officially YouTube stars. This shit is going viral.”

“Thanks, Josiah. Thanks, Ben. You two have showed me how not to live my life.”

Josiah got a good chuckle out of all of it. I hated him in that moment. I hated him for almost killing me. Then it became clear to me that he would never stop until he died. He didn’t want to grow up. He didn’t want to get sucked into the system and have his soul crushed. He was determined to live and die on his terms. But he had no right to put my life at risk.

The crowd dissipated and it was just him and me, sitting in the dirt.

“You were brilliant, Ben. Couldn’t have asked for a better number two.”

I wanted to strangle him.

“You didn’t trust me,” I said.

“I trusted you would do your part. Then I sensed an opportunity for some good improv and I just went for it. You can’t deny your muse.”

“You’re not an artist.”

“I’m not?”

“You want to die.”

“Not true. We’ve been over this.”

He gradually got to his feet and faced the setting sun, stretching out his arms. For a moment it looked like he was summoning fire to scorch the Earth.

“I don’t want to die, Ben. I want to wake up.”

I stood up and buried my hands in my pockets. I came up with a Jolly Rancher and popped it into my mouth, which was bone-dry.

“Can I get one of those?”

I went fishing and came up with another and handed it to him.

“Thanks. No, Ben, what I want to do is say, ‘My choice’.”

“To who?”

I lifted my arms and spun around.

“TO WHO?” I hollered.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Oh, now is the time to use our indoor voices. I just almost got flattened by a train, but I better not wake you up from your afternoon nap!”

Josiah chuckled.

“I’ve go an idea.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Yes you do.”

Curiosity got the better of me. It always did. I motioned to him to continue.

“I need a camera man. I’m going to climb up the side of the bridge.”

“What? When?”

“Now.”

“You can’t do it now, it’s getting dark.”

“Then we better hurry.”

Josiah took off at a jog and I stood there shaking my head. I couldn’t let him die alone. I just couldn’t. So I broke out into a sprint and caught up with the boy who didn’t want what the world had to offer.

I met Josiah two years ago at Sam Winston’s birthday party. The rest of the kids were playing Fortnite and he was in the corner sipping a soda and writing in his journal. I went over to him and stuck out my hand.

“Ben.”

“Josiah.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Want to sit down?”

He shuffled over and made space for me. I sat down and he showed me what he was working on. It was a short story.

“What’s it about?”

“It’s about a kid who is trapped in an alternate dimension and his family has to go rescue him before he’s eaten by a pack of giant rats.”

“Can I read it when you’re done?”

“Oh. Well, I’m never done.”

“What does that mean?”

“The boy is always in the wrong dimension.”

“That stinks.”

Josiah laughed.

“I guess it is kinda cruel. I’ll let him get home eventually.”

I tried my best to keep up with him, but Josiah possessed an energy that he must have stolen from the devil himself. He turned around and jogged backwards so I could keep up, the whole time a waggish smile playing on his lips.

“This’ll be the one they remember me for, Ben.”

Fifteen minutes later we stood underneath the bridge. The side of it was made of giant slabs of rock jutting out at odd angles. Kids had tried to climb it in the past, which is why they installed a black mesh fence along the top. There was no way Josiah could make it over that fence.

We were losing daylight.

Josiah took a few deep breaths.

“Got your phone ready?”

“What is this going to prove?”

“That the world is our playground.”

“Is that worth dying over?”

“Just record it, Ben. I promise this will be my last stunt for a very long time.”

Josiah ran at the rock wall and stuck one foot on a bit of jagged stone. That is how far he made it. I had him by the waist and I pulled him backwards, kicking and screaming.

“What the fuck, Ben?!”

“I’m not watching you kill yourself! We’re in the dark and there’s no way over that fence! But you know that.”

He elbowed me in the face, once, twice, three times as I dragged him to the ground. All I knew was that I couldn’t let go of this person. This person was loved and this person could not die today.

“You think you’re fucking saving me? Get the hell off me!”

I put my knees over his shoulders and pinned him. I had a good 20 lbs. on him and for once, I was just as determined as he was, if not more so.

Josiah was crying.

“I have to climb it! I have to climb the fucking bridge!”

“I love you.”

“Ben! Ben, get the hell off me!”

“I love you.”

No matter what he said over the next half hour I just told him how much I loved him. Finally he lay still. I took a tissue out of my pocket and wiped away his tears.

“What am I going to do now, Ben?”

“You’re going to give life a chance. For me. Because I love you.”

“So I’ve been told.”

We both chuckled.

I rolled off him and we lay on our backs, staring up at the stars.

“I want to go home, Ben.”

“I know, Josiah.”