[Forte]

I wrote this as part of my english assignment. I thought it turned out pretty good. It is kinda long so be sure to sit down with a coke or something before you read it.

Sign Language
By
Patrick Casey

Hi, my name is Bill, and I have a predicament. For the past 29 years of my life my right and left hand have been fighting each other to the nail, and tonight is when I stopped it all for good.

I suppose I should introduce the two “children” that have been attached to my arms for my entire life. My right hand calls himself Strauss, and he is the evil one. He is the dominant one in this relationship and always gets what he wants, even if that means hurting me. My left hand calls himself Ichiro, and he is the quiet one. You know that rejected kid who you always see in the corner who won’t talk to anyone? Yeah, that is Ichiro. He never stands up for himself and has a slight case of alchaholism.

It was a Friday night just like every other one in my almost meaningless existence. The thick Tennessee air was prevelant in my dark hole of an apartment. I would have air conditioning but Strauss broke it a week ago when he was trying to, ” Make this house like his motherland of Russia.” Anyway I was sitting, watching the usual Friday night B movie reruns on TNT when Ichiro began to reach for the new bottle of jack sitting at my bedside. No sooner had he grabbed the bottle, Strauss made it apparent that tonight was not the night to get drunk by slapping Ichiro across the midsection and grabbing the bottle in one quick motion. I was rather surprised because Strauss is usually tolerant of Ichiro’s drinking habits. Ichiro began to protest in broken Japanese and English, while Strauss retaliated by smashing the brand new bottle on Ichiro’s thumb. Both Ichiro and I began to shout in pain while Strauss laughed away.

“Why do you always have to be such a fucking dick to everyone Straus?!” I yelled out.

“Why don’t you just cut him off? It would do us more good than harm.” Said Strauss rather menacingly. “You know he is the one that is holding us back, keeping us in this shit hole of an apartment, making you look awkward in public. Just go ahead and do it. Get the meat cleaver and do it.”

I hate to say it but he did have a point. Every time I was at a party or at a restaurant it was Ichiro that was reaching for someone’s drink. But I couldn’t do it. I had come to love the guy, even if he was the most socially inept person I have ever met.

Once again I went through the rituals of calming Strauss down enough so that he would help me fix up Ichiro. Strauss knows that without Ichiro we would be nothing. We wouldn’t be able to drive to the local bar, type as fast, or open our favorite jar of peanut butter without it being a hassle.

I finished bandaging up Ichiro and returned to my bed and turned on the news. Celebrity scandals, our President turned out to be a genitically modified ape, and no rain in the forecast. Nothing out of the ordinary tonight. Strauss slowly dazes off, maybe I will finally get a moments peace. My eyes begin to get heavy, and I feel myself dozing off.

I lurch up to find Ichiro drinking from his pocket flask.
“Damnit, what did I tell you about drinking while I’m sleeping. I don’t want to wake up with a hangover that I don’t remember trying to get.” I said in a hushed tone. I knew if I woke up Strauss it would all be over.

“Well I was thinking,” said Ichiro in a soft voice,” what if Strauss was right. What if I really was the cause of all of our problems? Wouldn’t it be nice for me to just go away and Strauss would wake up and me not be here?”

I couldn’t believe that I was hearing this.

“Wait so you are agreeing with him?” I asked. This amazed me because it was the first time they agreed on anything besides liquor and peanut butter. “So you wouldn’t mind having to live on your own?”

“Not at all.” Said Ichiro. “I have been thinking about pursuing a career in acting. I saw Thing on the Adams Family and I was inspired. How come he is the only successful hand actor?”

“Probably because Thing isn’t real.” I responded.

I sensed a deep sadness in Ichiro as if I had already fed his dreams through a paper shredder and burned them before his eyes.

“So, you mean to tell me that Thing wasn’t real? He was just a…”

Ichiro began to trail off and take a few more swings of his flask.

“Get some rest.” I told him. “We will talk about this more in the morning.”

I watched Ichiro put away his flask and roll onto his side of the bed. I tried to fall asleep but I kept contemplating the situation. They are finally agreeing on something, but can I part with him. Not that the physical pain of cleaving off a part of my body is influencing my decision, it is more of the mental scar that I will have, not the missing hand. I have known Ichiro my whole life, and it would be hard to live without him. What if m-

“Can’t sleep can you?” said Strauss interrupting my chain of thought. “I told you we should just get rid of him. He won’t mind.”

I can’t believe it. Strauss had been listening to Ichiro and I conversation. He heard everything.





“Come on, just do it. He will wake up and will be alone. Besides, if you need to find him again we just have to look behind the nearest liquor store and look behind it.” Said Strauss in a sarcastic tone. “But this will probably end like every other night. You will tell me to shut up and will fall asleep. Such a little pansy. If it weren’t for me you would never have won any of those fights. I’m always sticking my wrist out for you, defending you when Ichiro has been making you look like an idiot. Let’s just do it while he is sleeping.”

I was strangely comfortable with the idea. The two agreed on separating themselves. I quickly looked out the window to see if any pigs were flying or if a cow was making his decent from the moon.

I slowly walked into the laundry room to grab the iron, and then headed into the kitchen where I was going to perform the operation. I looked around the room for something that would make this quick and easy. Knife, nahh too messy. Huge scissors, the things could barely cut paper, much less human flesh. Out of the corner of my eye I spot a birthday present from an unknown aunt. The Bagel Cutter 3000 was written in huge letters on the box.

“Cuts bagels, pickle jars, tin cans, and chicken bones!” was written on the back in rather eye-catching font. I guess this will do.

Strauss helps me open the box and prepare the area for the inevitable blood splatter that will rival that of a Quentin Tarantino movie.

“Lets make it quick.” Said Strauss. “ He is still sleeping. Almost like shooting fish in a barrel.”

Something about that didn’t sound right.

“Are you enjoying this?” I asked.

“Of course I am.” Said Strauss with a huge smirk on his face. “After 29 years we are finally getting rid of the pest.”

At around this point in time is when I decide that I had it all wrong. Ichiro wasn’t a menace. He always meant well but his actions just never came out right. I knew what I had to do now, but how was I going to do it.

“Hey Strauss check inside that bagel cutter and see if it is still sharp.” I asked in a hushed tone. “We need to see if it will still cut, it has been sitting in that box for god knows how long.”

“So you want me to just climb in there so you can test it?” asked Strauss. “How dumb do you think I am? We are attached to the same body, I know what you are thinking.”

Damn, I thought this would happen. But how should I get rid of him? I can’t rely on Ichiro, he would probably back out at the last second and reach for his flask like he has done at every point of my life when I needed his help.

“Why do you want to get rid of me? Huh? You think I a-“ Strauss was suddenly cut off by a waking Ichiro.

“Wha.. What’s going on? Why are we in the kitchen?” said Ichiro in a very, very confused manner.

“Oh we were just having a friendly discussion on which one of us to get rid of.” Said Strauss. “Up until a few moments ago Bill, you and I were in total agreement of who to eliminate. But Bill, being the complete pussy that he is decided to change his mind. He wants to get rid of me.”

At this point of the night is when the shit was approaching the fan.

“What, do you think you couldn’t make it in the world alone?” asked Ichiro.

Wait, Ichiro asked that?!

“No, I don’t think that you two could survive without me. I am the strongest of us. Without me both of you would be nothing. You would be two little shits spinning down the toilet bowl of life.” Said Strauss.

Ichiro began to reach for his flask.

“Yeah that’s right, take another swig.” Said Strauss, noticing Ichiro reaching for his flask. “You are so pathe-“

Strauss was cut off by Ichiro’s swift punch to the side. I know I couldn’t believe it either. The two began exchanging hits and jabs as they fought their way through the apartment. The term “Bull in a china shop” would not do justice for what these two were doing to my apartment. It was already a shit-hole, but at least it was a moderately organized shit-hole. Anything that was on the walls or made of wood was soon broken and lying in pieces on the floor.

After what seemed like half an hour of solid fighting we found ourselves back in the bedroom, where this whole mess started. Strauss had become slightly winded when Ichiro kicked him through my table, and a broken window had gashed Ichiro’s left eye. The two stood and faced each other, wondering who was going to make the next move. Sure enough, almost on cue, Strauss began a monologue, which he had probably rehearsed a few thousand times in his head.

“So it has come down to this. Ichiro and I fighting until only one stands. I always knew I would get the better of you, you fucking Jap.”
Monologues were clearly not Strauss’s forte.
No sooner than Strauss had finished his speech Ichiro kicked him through my closet door. I could see Strauss rolling around in the remnants of my closet and old shoeboxes. Suddenly he stopped rolling. Was he dead? A slow, evil laugh began to fill the room as Strauss reached into a box of Ecco shoes. Wait, I don’t own a pair of Ecco’s.

Remember when I said the shit was approaching the fan earlier? Well, here is where it splatters against the fan and spreads itself out on the walls.

Strauss slowly pulled himself out of the closet and pulled out what I had been hoping he would never find. My fathers Colt Peacemaker.

“If I can’t kill you Ichiro, I will just kill all of us.” Said Straus in a menacing tone.

Strauss pointed the gun straight at me. Looking down the barrel of this gun, and at Strauss’s face I knew that there was no changing his mind.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked in an almost groveling manner.

Straus responded by pulling back the hammer of the pistol. Yes, he was sure. Suddenly my vision became blocked. Ichiro had moved himself in front of the gun.

“You are going to have to go through me before you take him.” Said Ichiro.

“Okay.” Said Strauss.

Darkness... all around me is darkness. I hear strange beeping sounds coming from my left and a dizzy feeling fills my head. Was I dead? Was this the dark tunnel that everyone is supposed to see before they walk into the light?

“He’s coming too doctor.” Said an unknown voice from my side.

“He’s lucky to even be alive. That shot went through the top of his skull through the cerebral cortex. He probably won’t be able to even remember how he shot himself.” Said a distant voice.

I shot myself?




The End