The Other Man (Part 1)

K. N. Johnson
Aug 25, 2017 · 4 min read

Sally Hawkins would be 37 today. I tell that to myself when I’m walking through the streets. I just realized that, even though I could have thought about it the entire day. I am thinking about it while I watch other people do whatever they are doing. Most of them are in a great hurry. Some of them are calm. I just can’t stop thinking about it. How can something like this happen and the world continues, nobody even cares?

I try to chew the sandwich I just bought before going to work, but I just can’t. I notice the chewed meat in the back of my mouth, but I can’t swallow it. Everything is too confusing for me. Sensitive people may not be suitable for this type of work. Some told me. But the chicken pieces are dry despite being flooded with mayonnaise. Maybe a salad would have been more appropriate.

How can something like this happen and everybody ignores it? How can they continue with their lives?

A few days ago I received the news. Many times it is ridiculous what you are doing while you are given news like that. I was not doing anything special. I simply prepared dinner for my children while I uncorked a bottle of wine and prepared to watch for a couple of hours the children’s television programs they cast at night. I even fancied some of them, some of them were really funny.
Then the phone rang. I do not remember right now what time it was. If I think about it, the truth is that it does not even matter. I had completely disconnected from reality once I had left my job a couple of hours ago. My back ached and I hoped I could take a warm bath once the children were in bed.

I picked up the phone. The reaction was immediate. Just listening to Nell I hung up and rushed against the TV. I immediately sent my children to bed. They protested, of course. They detested the orders, and the oldest one began to argue about the chapters that were to be missed if they went to bed. I was somewhat relentless. I remember screaming at them. I shouldn’t have. But I was nervous, my nerves bristling my hair. My eldest son refused to go to bed, but I did not care. I switched channels immediately, putting the news. I could hear my cell phone vibrating alarmingly, so I left it on the table while I listened to the news.
I did not think it was possible. My son did not understand anything. Thousands of tweets of videos recorded by the spectators of the event appeared. Shouts could be heard, but mostly curses. Who could have done such a thing?
Obviously everybody knows this at this point, because he was caught in a bar near the place where the attack took place. The cell phone kept vibrating for several hours. Messages came from everywhere, called worried, but he could not take his eyes off the television. I told my son to sleep with his siblings while making a couple of calls. Thank God, he didn’t dare argue, and left he the room.

My pulse was shaking. I tried to breathe deeply before pressing the number that interested me.

When I finally got in touch, as the lines were saturated, I did not utter a single word. All I did was listen, while I bit my lip. I hung up and called another number. My ex-husband had called several times. My sister had called. My parents had called. I had many calls to make to assure everyone that both my children and I were fine.
The first to pick up the phone was my ex-husband.
“Darrell?” You’re good? I just saw the news, I can not believe it …
“I’m fine, Hawk, calm down.
”The children?”
“In bed. They did not go to swimming class today.”
“Maybe that saved their lives.”
“Maybe. Listen, I have to make a lot of calls. Let me call you later.
“Do you know anything?”
“I’ve talked to Nell, but they still don’t have a list of the victims.
“And the attacker?”
“They say he slipped away. The police is looking for him”.
“Call me right away if you know anything.”
I hung up the phone and called my sister. She didn’t pick up, but I left a voicemail to let her know I was fine. The voice of my parents relaxed as we began a conversation.

“We thought something might have happened to you. This is the first time … How could something like this happen? Do you know anything about the attack?”
“No, Mother.”
“They say more than 100 people have been admitted to nearby hospitals. Many have already died.”
“Nell told me to go to the office right away, and I have to call my ex. I’m sorry, I can not tell you anything else. I am so sorry.”
I hung up immediately. I did not want to know anything else, even though the death list would grow as the days passed, without any doubts.

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K. N. Johnson

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Pretentious, arrogant, little cliché. Novelist and poet. Sadness makes me write, and when I’m happy I do not write. https://www.instagram.com/k_n_johnson/?hl=es