I Killed a Pumpkin – 4 October 2012

Posted: October 9, 2013 in Dialog, Prose
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,




4 October 2012

Sitting on the curb, at the park were Nick, Shakes, Andre, Little Jake, Willie, Wolf and Shaggy. Serge, who had been sleeping on a park bench on Elgin Street, came walking up the sidewalk with William.

I asked, “Does anybody know any details about Silver’s funeral? I’d like to go if I can.”

Andre said, “From what I’ve heard, it’s at Kelly’s Funeral Home on Somerset. The viewing of the body is at 10:00, and the service is at 11:00. You won’t see me there. I’ve been to too many funerals, dozens of them. I want to remember Silver the way he was, not the way they’ll have him in his casket. I can’t take that.”

I said, “Hi Serge, William. Serge, have you seen the doctor yet. You mentioned that you wanted to see him about your stomach and your shoulder.”

“My stomach is okay. I have an appointment next Thursday. It was arranged through Center 507, with a doctor at the Clinic on Cooper Street. William and I are just going for something to eat now.

“Shakes, how are you today? You didn’t look too good yesterday when the fire truck and the paramedics arrived.”

“I’m fine, I’m just tired that’s all.”

“How are you Andre?”

“Last night Joy, Jake and I were drinking at Jake’s new apartment. Joy and I got into a little tiff. We were both drunk. I decided to leave and I woke up in somebody’s garden. I was eating carrots, some kind of squash. I used a Tim Horton’s card to slice a tomato. That worked really well. I killed a pumpkin, a big sucker. I just wound up and ‘kapow’. Now, I got all these stains on my pants.”

I asked, “Did Joy find out when she’s going to be able to see a doctor?”

“Yeah, she’ll be going tomorrow.”

Andre said, “I’m just waiting for my worker, she’s supposed to be here at 12:45. She’s going to take me to see an apartment. Next week she’ll take me to see a doctor. She asked me, ‘Do you have any medical problems?’ I said, ‘How much time do you have? I can keep you writing for an hour with all my medical problems.’

“I walked into a clinic one time, there were all kinds of people in the waiting room. I walked up to the counter and said, ‘I’m in the middle of one of my mood swings. I want a doctor NOW! I guess I looked real freaky. The doctor saw me right away and gave me some medication. It was potent stuff. I felt like a zombie for three days. I didn’t want to take that again, I couldn’t do anything but sleep. When I was awake, it was like I was in a fog. I smoke pot instead. It keeps me mellow. If I don’t have any for about three days, I start to get wired up.

“One time the cops were chasing me and I pulled myself over a five foot fence. What I didn’t realize was there was a thirteen foot drop on the other side. I broke some ribs that time. I had a floating rib for a while. That really hurt. Sometimes, I wouldn’t be able to catch my breath.

“Another time I jumped out a second story window. There was a wooden shed below that broke my fall and my ribs on the other side.”

Wolf said, “Did I tell you that Shaggy bit me this morning. That’s why she’s over there in front of Nick. She started the day well, she walked all the way down here on her own. For a thirteen year old dog that’s pretty good. These guys get her all wound up. I reached in front of her and she chomped down on my wrist. It didn’t break the skin, but it’s so sore.

“That’s all I got to say to you.

“Andre, can I have a drink from your bottle?”

Andre said, “Yes.”

“You know, I don’t often ask you for anything, do I?”

“No, you don’t, Wolf. I don’t remember the last time you asked me for something.”

“Alright then, just so we have that straight.”

A skateboarder went by and Shaggy started barking and chasing him. Andre grabbed Shaggy’s leash, just in time. He said to the frightened kid, “She doesn’t like skateboards.”

Andre said to  a woman passing by, “That’s a beautiful shawl you’re wearing, sister. Has anybody told you today, that you’re beautiful too?”

To me he said, “See how tall she is, she must be six one or two. I love tall women. They can wrap their legs around you twice.”

Nick was chattering away to nobody in particular, mumbling something about, “I know how to survive. I’ve even slept in a snow drift with a piece of cardboard, newspaper inside my pant legs and in my sleeves. I was fine until the cops kicked me in the face.

“Can somebody throw me that bottle?”

Wolf said, “It’s not mine. I’m not going to throw it to you.”

It was time for me to go. I said my good byes and said that I would see everyone tomorrow.



  1. idiotwriter says:

    I am just floored by how stunningly you represent these people. So wonderfully written – intense. I just want to read on and on to gain more insight.


  2. idiotwriter says:

    Reblogged this on Idiot Writing and commented:
    If you are not following or supporting this blog – you should be – lets get REAL.


  3. kilaheem says:

    These photos are great


  4. hakariconstant says:

    Your friends are awesome, interesting people.

    I have attended a few funerals myself, and tend to try to avoid them (and viewings) as well, for many reasons, one also being my wanting to remember people as they were in life, and not lifeless in a box that gets put in the ground to be buried in dirt. I might want to be cremeated when I die, and be cast away in a sea breeze, so when loved ones feel a wind or swim in the ocean, they can imagine they might be feeling a part of me… literally.

    It’s weird, but it makes me a little jealous, funerals… I tried commiting suicide three times in 2008, and in years past have delibritly tried to poison myself by being delbritely careless with food, and etc. and have had bloodwork done, just to be told I’m “strong as a horse”. I am more careful now though, ever since my dog got a staph infection.

    I live in section 8 housing, and got this apartment when I did because I was homeless. In many ways I still feel homeless. I don’t like it here, but it’s far better than living in a shelter or on the street, so I try to count it a blessing. I was wondering, when your friends get apartments the same way, do they still feel a sense of still being homeless too?

    My heart goes out to those mourning the death of Silver.

    I am still shaken up by the loss of a boyhood friend, and live with regret about not being a better friend. Kid was obsessed with Star Wars, and his death has ruined Star Wars for me lol one of my earliest poems was about his death and my regret.

    Are any of the friends you write about poets? If so, I would love to read some of their writings!


  5. Very intriguing. Thank you for sharing it with us. Hugs, Barbara


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