Hang Ten

PART ONE.

JUAN RIVIERA. HANG I

I don't have a card, and I don't have a soul. I haven't got a piece of plastic the size of my palm, and therefore I don't exist. I am treated as if I were a dog, and am beaten, thrown, and killed. My body lies where it fell, with two holes in my belly the size of my thumb, and two holes in my back the size of my fist. I see a boot, black, walk past my blood-shot eye. I see another boot, black, fall in succession with the other, and as he walks past I see a badge. My blood is still, but I see through the dead of night a white truck into which the man steps. The omni-red and blue of the lights shine on my face. I can see my cheek light red, then blue. A sustained red, then nothing. A whole in the fence, Mexicana, 1994, and I am dead.

ERNESTO PAREZ. HANG II

Crack, crack, ends the night. My eyes open, and I haven't the time to feel tired. The bullets sound as though they were traveling through water, as they tear the walls in two. Beams of light shine through the open holes in the wall, and for an instant I am unafraid. I hear the screams, and the cries of everyone around me. I know my assailant. I know the reaper is about me. A bullet tears the skin of my throat, enters, and exits out the rear as I stand. I fall back, and as my chest rises and falls, I can hear the air whistling through the gap, now temporarily filled with my left hand. I have time only to think of the pain before I feel the hand of the reaper on my shoulder, and the life leaves my body as my lungs empty of breath and fill with blood.

PETA NOCONA. HANG III

The morning is brought in with the thunderous sound of hooves on the soft soil. My eyes open, and I hear the sound of a bugle sounding the charge of Cavalry. I climb to my feet to the sound of my infant sons cries, and the sound of hooves and hollars. I take my son in my arms, his face wet with both our tears. As I come out into the early morning light I see my people running, screaming, and dying at the hands of a mounted oppressor. I run to my left, and I see the eyes of my sister, wide with fear. With a sharp pain, and the now silent screams of my infant son, I join the ranks of the dead. A horse, and man, and a saber. Blood, germs, and steel.

AHMAD HASAN. HANG IV

As I gaze over the horizon at the setting sun, I silently admire the beauty of the colour streaming over the ground, and staining the sky shades of yellow and red. I can hear toward the east the city, and all its wonders. It's markets, it's structures, and the streets I know all by name. I look back to the west, and the glare of the setting sun is suddenly interrupted by a pair of Soviet warplanes that seem to rise into endless space as they approach and pass over me. With blistering speed, they scream over my head, their cannons tearing, and shearing the building to the sand. I hear my brother yell, and I see others running. As the second aircraft passes, I hear a thunderous noise, and I lift my head from the sand to see a cloud of dust moving away in every direction from the site of the explosion. A column of fire rises to the heavens, and streams of smoke move off in every direction, arcing toward the ground before disappearing. Everyone is running, everyone is dying, and the thought hasn't crossed my mind to move an inch. A stream of fire comes from the heavens, felling dozens, and I try to move, but I am unable. Death has taken me, and I feel as though I were alive. I try in vain to grip the earth. My lungs are empty, my blood is still.

CHINH HOANG. HANG V

I turned my head up from my bowl, and out of the trees came nine men, clad in green, carrying rifles. I looked to my daughter, off to my right, playing in the trees. I looked at her and she stopped, turned, and stared at the men. I turned back to my left, and the men began to scream. They spoke in French, and in my terror I could not understand. Several entered each house. They threw me out, on to the ground, and kicked me. One pulled me up, then pushed me down, onto my knees. The other pulled my arms back, behind my head. They were still screaming, and I knelt there, terrified. They lit a bundle of straw, and held it to the roof of my home. They turned my head back straight, and screamed in my face. He put his hand to his waist, and swung a pistol back to my forehead. I fell backwards, and rolled to my side. I felt nothing.


PART TWO.

JASON DOCKERY. HANG VI

Rushing to work, I fumbled my keys as I pushed the third from the keychain though the steel lock in my apartment on the third floor. I glanced briefly upon the newspaper I knew I had no time to read as I turned the key to the right, and waited for the low 'thump' I knew signified the locking the door. I don't know why I always locked my door. There had never been a robbery, and the only strange character was Miss. Roth three doors to my left. I entered the elevator with a woman I did not recognize. I pushed 'P,' and decided to inquire.'Hello,' I said.'Hello,' she replied.Second floor. I looked over again and inquired, 'Do you live here, or are you just visiting?' I said with a smile.'I'm just visiting my mother here,' she said, 'I'll be here until tomorrow, then I'm back to work in Chicago.''Oh, I'm from Chicago!' I said, lying.'Oh, really?' the woman said.'Yeah,' I said, 'I came here when I was offered a job at Pencey. I'm a commodities broker.'First floor. The doors open, and I quickly glance down her blouse before my eyes dart back. Surely noticing, she smiled politely and said 'I hope to see you around the building, then!''Ofcourse,' I said, 'perhaps we could go for some Coffee or drinks some time?''Well, I'll be pretty busy, I'm leaving tomorrow, but perhaps I could squeeze it in my schedule.' She replied, holding the doors open.'Great! So your in twenty-three?''Twenty-nine,' she replied, leaving the elevator. My mind suddenly returned to me, and I pushed 'P' twice more. The doors opened, and I stepped out into the garage. I turned left, past a Mercedes, and six spaces down, parked on a slight angle, was my car. I had just bought it, and the novelty of this new item was still with me. I unlocked the doors as I jogged slowly up to the drivers door. I opened the door, and in the corner of my eye I saw a blur of black and white. I looked up with my hand still on the door handle. There was a young man there, about 17, white, perhaps 195 lbs, 5'9. I took notice of these traits as I had been trained to through so many hours of watching 'Top 10 Most Wanted Criminals.' He said 'Hey man, gimme your wallet,' looking side to side. I reached back and slid my hand into my pocket.'Watch it, man, don't do any shit,' he said, pulling out a pistol, sounding aggravated. I pulled my wallet out and said ' I haven't got much.''Are you shittin'? I know who you are!' He yelled.'Look, I know you don't wanna kill me, so just calm down. Put away the gun, you don't have to do this!' I said, calmly, reenacting the many movies I had seen. There was a siren in the distance, and he looked as frightened as a child on a roller-coaster. Becoming increasingly more aggravated, he screamed 'Gimme it!' and briefly looked behind him, took a step backward, and fired. The truth is, I heard only half the sound when I fell over. I felt nothing. I saw nothing.

MAUNO AALTO. HANG VII

I open my back door and gazed out upon the pristine November snow, the surface of which being precisely eleven centimeters above the earth. I was invited yesterday to a Sunday lunch with my friend and his wife of twelve years, Aamu. My boots are on, and I walk out to see the rest of snow-covered Oulu. I move out into the alley, and turn to my left as I walk rather meanderingly down the sidewalk. I walk across the alley, and turn to my right. I walk up the back steps, and knock gently on the door. Noone answers. I open the unlocked door, and call out for my friend or his wife as I enter. I walk into the kitchen, and see a broken dish on the floor. I pick up the broken dish, and place is gently on the counter top. I call out again for my friend, and walk into the living room of the small, city house. I am startled to see a man, hunched over. He turns around, and sobbing, says 'I heard you come in.' beside him is the body of his wife.'What happened?' I ask.'We got into an argument,' he said, nervously, 'I didn't mean to.. She was screaming, and I was screaming, and she broke the plate, and I pushed her.. She threw the plate at me, and I hit her..'In shock and disbelief, I looked down on the sobbing, frightened man and said, 'We need to call an Ambulance!''No!' He said, with strange conviction. 'She's dead!''The Police then!' I replied.'No!' he said, 'Help me clean, noone will know!''Have you lost your mind?' I said, shocked. He stood up and grabbed me by the shoulders. She is bleeding badly, from many apparent wounds. He screamed 'Help me!''No!' I said, 'We need to call the police!'He pushed me, and I fell as I hit the counter.'We don't need the police!' he screamed, 'We need to hide her!'I stood up, and tried to move to the door as he jumped my back. I fell to the ground, and as I tried to stand, the air seemed to escape involuntarily. I fell back to the ground, and I realized I was unable to breathe. He stabbed me again in the abdomen, and again in the back. I looked foreward along the floor, with an expression of utter shock on my face. I could feel my life bleed through my wounds as the pain slowly subsided. I knew my life was stolen, and suddenly I drew a blank.

ANNETTE BARYL. HANG VIII

I turned the key, and the engine started with a bang. I shifted to reverse, and backed out of my driveway, into the street. I was headed to my grandmothers house. I turned left, out of the city, and down the street. I opened the window, and let the early evening air move throughout the car. I watched over the horizon, at the end of the long, empty road, the sun fall to the earth. The air became colder, and I glanced up to see the last beams of the sun bend over the horizon, and disappear. My car coughed, wheezed, and ground to a halt. I turned it off to the shoulder of the road, and with a sigh of depression, opened the door and walked to the hood. Completely incompetent mechanically, I opened the hood and peered in quizzically. I saw two headlights over the horizon, and walked up to the road and waved to get the attention of the driver. He slowed as he approached, then rolled past, and continued on his way. A near eternity later, I spied another pair of headlights. I stood up and waved. This time the driver pulled over beside me, rolled down the window and asked what the trouble was. I explained to him that I had no idea whatsoever, and he stepped out of the car. When he came out, I realized he had a shotgun. I stood deathly still, in complete shock. With a should of 'Take it, Nigger!' I fell over backward. He walked up to my still body, and fired again into my chest. He wrapped me in a large blanket and heaved me in the back of his car. After some time, the vehicle came to a stop, and he rolled me out onto the shoulder. He closed the door and rolled me to the side of the road, where I lay waiting.

ANATOLII KARATAEV. HANG IX

The brisk air rushes in as I open the door to a bitterly cold Izhevskian morning. I step outside and walk to the sidewalk. I rub my hands together as I walk to the small market just down the street. I step into the store and the clerk smiles and says 'goodmorning!' I have seen her before. She lives in my building, though I rarely see her. She leaves very early. I can hear her every morning, walking down the hallway, the old floorboards squeaking under her. Occasionally we will have lunch, or a few drinks together. She came here from the east, three or four years ago, to work with her father here, in the market. I remember when she moved in. She was so nervous, she cried once, on my shoulder, because she was under the impression everyone thought poorly of her.'Goodmorning,' I said, smiling politely. She's very sensitive that way. If you seem at all sad, or depressed, she will make it her mission to cheer you up. Sometimes it's best simply to pretend.'What could I find for you today, Antolii?' she said, smiling, looking right into my eyes.'Oh, nothing really,' I said, still smiling.'Than to what could I attribute your visit to?''Well, honestly, I just felt like dropping by.''I don't believe you,' she said 'You never just drop by.''Alright, well, now that my plan was entirely foiled, I suppose i'll just have to come right out and say it.''Say what? That your madly in love with me? I already knew that, Anatolii..''Well, I was just wondering if you would like to get some lunch, or a drink?''I'd love to,' She said, taking off her apron. She leaned over and yelled into the back room to Alina, the baker.'I'm going to go get some lunch, can you take over?''Well, I'm not certain,' She replied, ' I might need you around here.''Oh come on, Alina!''Alright, Alright, go on, I'll be fine here!'Down the street about three blocks, on the right, was a small resteraunt. It wasn't bad, the food was good, the waitresses were nice, and it was always nearly empty, whenever I was there, anyway. I ordered a Sandwich and a bowl of warm soup, she ordered the same. I heard a ding as the front door opened, and an old man with two younger men, came in. They sat at the table next to us. The waitress came over and took their orders before stopping at our table and asking if we would like our glasses refilled. We both answered 'No,' and she wen't to the kitchen to deliver to order. With the passing of the sixtyfirst minute, a car stopped with a screech outside the glass window beside us. The men all turned, and one of the young men pulled the old to the ground, behind a seat. A spray of bullets flew in, as we leaned over to get behind the seat. I felt as though I had been hit in the chest. I could hardly breathe. I pulled my arms tight to by body, and looked down to see my rib protruding from my chest. Saying I was shocked would be an understatement. I tried completely in vain to inhale. I could hear the bullets ricocheting around, tearing the walls, shattering everything in their path. I could hear the screams of the waitress, and the cries of my Anatola. Everything suddenly became silent, and I could hear only her tears striking the floor.

YASUO MORIOKA. HANG X

My eyes opened as the light seeped through the blinds and onto my face. I stared for a moment at the roof, in complete disbelief. I peered at the bumpy pale yellow ceiling in my one bedroom, one person apartment. I saw my entire life displayed in each ridge, and in each miniscule crevice of the drywall. I sat pondering eternity, pondering life, staring at my buttercup ceiling. I wondered if I should bother to live. I wondered if I should bother to die. I saw my beginning, I saw my end. I squinted, and peered deeper into the ceiling. I saw my life, I recognised my dreams; my ambitions. My eyes focused, and to my dejection, I saw all man.