Page 77 of The Summer Show
“Make the puppet do this.” My puppet open and closed its pretend mouth.
“Do I have to do a funny voice?”
“You can do any voice you like.”
“I feel stupid.”
“Sometimes our brains lie to us. You’re not stupid at all, and if a puppet helps you to express yourself, then it’s a sign of emotional intelligence that you can set the silly feelings aside and go with it.”
“I don’t see how this is supposed to work.”
“The puppet is a proxy. You’re having difficulty talking about what happened to you, so the puppet stands in for you. Come on. Be a wee little puppet man.”
My repeated Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel marathons finally paid off.
“I’m starting to see why you and my sister are friends. Do you do this with kids at your school?”
“Sometimes. It’s easier with children because they’re not afraid to be goofy, and most of the time they like puppets. More than once I’ve done the puppets to discuss important things with my library classes, like how to take care of books, especially if they’ve got a younger sibling at home, and why it’s important to bring books back on time. The answer is so other kids can borrow those books, too, and also so you can get more books.”
“What would you tell me? About my situation, I mean.”
I used the puppet. “Talk about what’s going on so that you can start healing and get your life back.”
“I’m not a talker. Not about emotions. I wasn’t raised like that.”
“And my mother raised me to believe no one would ever love me or want to spent time with me, but I don’t see you holding up a cross to ward me off.”
“She said that?”
“So many times I lost count,” my puppet told him.
He sighed and his head flopped back until it tapped the low ledge surrounding the roof.
“Being on the rooftop, I’ve seen a lot of shit. I’ve worked for companies that skimped on safety. I’ve worked for some real sticklers for doing everything by the book, too, so when I went out on my own, that’s the way I went. Safety monitors. Harnesses. Regular safety meetings and training. I make sure my guys are as safe as they can be. No skimping. If the job takes more time, it takes more time. Safety was—is—paramount. I fell once, you know? When I worked for one of those shitty companies. They didn’t want to spend money on harnesses for everyone, so we got to share. We were working on a barrel roof and another guy swung around while he was carrying a roll of plastic sheeting. I ducked, but not far enough. The roll clipped my hardhat. Knocked me backwards and I went straight over the edge. Only thing that saved me was the scaffolding. I managed to grab it on the way past and hung like that for I don’t know how long until I could pull myself up.
“Anyway.” His voice came out ragged. This time when he spoke, he didn’t use the puppet. Which was fine. Talking was the goal, with or without the help of cotton blend. “Three months ago we were working on a house. Merrick Roofing usually does commercial work, but business has been good and last summer I made the decision to expand to include residential. I hired some shinglers, trained them in safety protocols, and they’ve been doing great work. Three months ago, like I said, the shinglers were doing a roof in one of those newer housing developments. Ordinarily they’d be too new to need new roofs, but the original builders cheaped out and some of the insurance companies started freaking out after a couple were wrecked during last winter’s ice storm. The house we were doing was one of those places with high ceilings, so the roof was 25 feet at its lowest point. One of the guys on the crew—Bryan—had a sinus infection. He shouldn’t have been up there in the first place. But he and his wife have a new baby and he wanted the hours, so he went up on the roof without telling anyone he was dizzy. I’d swung by to check how things were going when I noticed Bryan wasn’t looking so hot. I told him to go home. He didn’t want to, but he was white as that sock on your hand. I wasn’t about to let him drive, so I told him I’d give him a ride home and get one of the other guys to follow us with his pickup. Then … I don’t know what happened.” Nick shook his head. “I guess he blacked out, maybe. Whatever it was, we were right by the ladder and he fell. Went right over the edge. I lunged forward to grab him, but I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t fast enough. All that training and I couldn’t keep one of my guys safe. The one thing I promised to do. I’m not much, and there are women out there who’ll tell you I’m an asshole because I didn’t call when they wanted me to, but I keep my word on the job. Bryan was my responsibility.”
The expression on Nick’s face was one of utter despair. My heart cracked in two. “Nick …”
“Don’t. Don’t say it’s not my fault,” he said.
What happened to Bryan was in no way Nick’s fault, but the least I could do was honor his wish. “Did Bryan … Did he … Was he okay?”
He shook his head. “He won’t get on a roof again, but he’s alive. A bunch of his bones broke when he hit the concrete patio. He, uh, they say he’ll walk again.” He looked at me, beseeching. “That’s why I have to win. I need the money.”
My mind leaped to insurance companies, lawsuits, and our country’s addiction to paying gobs of money every month so our insurance companies could give us the slow, rotating finger when we needed to make a claim. “Is he going to sue?”
“Nobody is suing anybody. Bryan had a sinus infection and I did the right thing by sending him home as soon as I found out, legally speaking. I’m on the show because I want to give him the money. For his family. In about eighteen years he might have a kid to send to college. I want to be able to make that happen for him, even though I can’t put him on the roof.”
Each word fell like a pebble in a well. One ripple at first, then dozens. What he told me disrupted my entire thought pattern with regards to Greece’s Top Hoplite. I couldn’t keep trying to win. Yes, my reason for wanting to continue each night and my hunger to win that massive pot of money was partially noble, but Nick’s reason for competing was even more noble.
He had out-nobled me. And I felt the decency of his cause all the way to my bones.
“I can’t leave the ground without seeing Bryan fall. When I close my eyes, the only thing there is that gap—the one between him and my hand when I tried to grab him. I was so close, but I couldn’t quite make it. I watched him hit the ground, you know? Slowly, at first, then all at once.”
“That’s why you’re struggling with heights.”
He leaned his head back and blew out a sigh that ruffled his hair. “I thought the plane would be different, because it’s not attached to anything. I was wrong. I’m not sure I could stand on a box without losing it. I don’t even like being on the third floor of Hotel Ble.”