"You need a little first-aid, man. I'm not gonna call anybody.”
He screams and faces my eye-cam, gritting his teeth, spit flying from the corner of his mouth. Just the sort of reality that excites my viewership.
“I'm gonna leave it right here,” I say, gently placing the first-aid on the bench beneath the canopy. “It's what you need.”
People walk by without noticing us. Two steely apartment towers form the background. Marky spreads out his arms as if he's about to charge me.
“I'm not your enemy. I'm here to help.”
Then he points at me. “I know what you want, Robby. Don't fucking give me this saintly act.”
“What're you talking about?”
“This is all a show for your fans to feel their skin crawl.” Marky spits and laughs for a moment.
“You're blaming me for what those thugs did to you?”
“Don't change the subject. And don't put my picture on your Page or I'll come for you when you least expect it.”
He's bleeding like a sieve yet amazingly coherent. A passerby stops and says, “Hey, do you need some help? Let me call an ambulance.”
“Don't fucking call shit!” Marky yells and the man recoils into the street lights. I’m at a loss as to what to do. Then he touches my arm and sighs. “I'm sorry, man. I don't know what the fuck's wrong with me. I deserved this shit—I don't blame those kids. I'm drunk off my ass, stinking up the corner, in their hood. I'm a piece of shit failure—I had tenure at one point, you know. Good for them for cracking me, I'm ready to start fresh, Robby. Those kids know what they're doing.”
hood. I'm a piece of shit failure—I had tenure at one point, you know. Good for them for cracking me, I'm ready to start fresh, Robby. Those kids know what they're doing.”
I shake my head. “Why don't you dab your wounds, man?”
“Don't fucking touch me, Robby. Don't even.”
“First-aid's right there.” I can hear his labored breathing.
“If I was those kids, I would've done the same. You know what one of them said, just before he cracked me? He said, 'You don't belong here.' And he was right in so many ways. Yet I wouldn't know how to leave this place. Not with nothing in my pockets.”
“I can get you a meal. But you should tend to your cuts or let me.”
Marky, bleeding and trembling, wrenches his other eye shut. “I just lay there, cut up, all these people passing me like I'm nothing, like they got somewhere to be. Then I blacked out and saw this weird bird leaning over me, with a long curvy nose, pointy brows and little fangs sticking out his beak. He looked at me then flapped away, the whole time smiling.”
“What's it all mean?”
“I don't know. I just need to watch out for that bird.”
“Marky, it's not your fault. Those little thugs have been wilding on lots of folks. They know people here have money.”
He shakes his head, leans against the side of the canopy, then crumples to the ground like a broken umbrella.
15