Frankie paused, like he was trying not to feel what he was feeling.
“Then when Christmas break was over we went back to school and at first Gina was friendly to me, letting me walk her to school and home again. But as time went on she started making excuses to not be around me. I finally asked her what was going on and she said it was because I scared her. She said I was dangerous and we couldn’t be friends.”
“She said I was dangerous, Denny.” Frankie said, his voice thick with barely contained emotion, “I would never have hurt her. Not her. Not for anything.”
I thought of Carrie then and knew how he felt - it would kill me if Carrie thought I might hurt her.
“So, yeah.” Frankie took a deep breath and let it out, “I think I’m a little crazy. I scare girls when I just think I’m being funny.”
I rolled onto my back and stared up at the small white clouds that weren’t in the shape of anything other than clouds.
“I’m sorry that happened to you, Frankie. It must have hurt.” I said, “And I don’t think you’re crazy, but I know I am.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. So I told him about the sparkly shit that eats my vision once in awhile, and the hollow, numb feeling of shrinking and growing at the same time, and how I don’t know how to talk to people.
“You do better than talking to people.” Frankie said, “You listen. You actually listen to people when they tell you things. When most people are in a conversation they’re just waiting for you to stop talking so they can tell their story. Sometimes they even interrupt when you take a breath. You actually stay still and let people finish what they’re saying.”
“What about the sparkly shit and the numb thing?” I asked him.
“I don’t know.” Frankie said, “Did you ever think it might be because your old man slaps you around all the time? Like maybe it’s better to be numb than have to deal with that?”
I had never thought about it that way before and it sent goose bumps up my back. I’d never figured that my dad slapping me around had an affect on me, but maybe it did. Maybe it was having a huge affect on me.
Jimmy’s dad slapped him around too and his habit was to be slow and careful and that’s how it affected Jimmy; he was terrified of making a mistake and being beaten for it, so he was slow and careful about everything. He was even slow and careful around his friends who wouldn’t be mad at him for taking risks and messing up.
Carrie was shy and quiet and tried to blend into the background because if she stood out she’d be picked on by her older siblings, and when she was picked on you could watch her fold into herself, trying to be smaller than she already was so she could go back to not being noticed. It wasn’t until those moments of awareness sitting under the fir trees in Stanley park that I understood why Carrie was so happy that I pushed her on the swing that day that she held my hand as I walked her home; she knew I saw her and appreciated her as a person.
So maybe Frankie was right; that I disconnected from my body rather than feel anything, just like filling my head with a million stupid facts kept me from having meaningful conversations with people like I was doing with Frankie that day. It was a revealing moment for me as I realized I couldn’t fix a problem I didn’t know I had and now that I knew, I couldn’t go back to not knowing.
I stood up and looked down at Frankie as I started to walk down to the rocky shore where the little crabs lived.
“Where you going?” he asked.
“Crazy.” I smiled, “Wanna come?”
"Little Gangsters"
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