READ WITH Track Suggestion- "The Last Man"
By: Clint Mansell
"The last Man" Theme Link
Jolts in his memory repeatedly forced the images of explosion
in the shop into his head as Isaiah struggled to forget the events. When he remembered, he beat his hands on the
floor, the process was not working.
Frustrated, Isaiah stood on his knees and decided that keeping himself
busy would help him forget. He hummed as
he crawled over to his mother to fix the blanket draped over her knee. He had found that blanket days earlier in the
alley he called home behind Jedynka, the Ukrainian owned night club. He eyed the short gray blanket as he fixed it
over his mother’s knee and let if fall behind her back. His back ached and though he knew the gray
blanket would help alleviate some of the tension, she needed it more. The alley behind Jedynka had been his home
for the last three months. He realized
that if he seemed deprived enough or if he caught one on a good night, the
cabaret dancers would provide him with some of their work costumes, food, maybe
even some of the tip money they made that night. Isaiah especially liked Caroline. She was the second most beautiful Jewish woman
he had ever met; he adored his mother too much for her to relinquish that
title,
especially since he helped make his mother beautiful.
He would dab any of the discarded make up on
her that he could find. He felt as
skilled at applying it as the cabaret dancers and their makeup washed look. Caroline was also the dancer with the most
compassion for she would give him the most.
He had gotten shoes, socks, a jacket, and even started a small allowance
from Caroline. Isaiah was anxious. Tonight he knew Caroline was dancing at
Jedynka. On other days he would search
for goods himself at nearby alleyways but strolling Germans looking for Jewish kids to bully made it dangerous. The streets were also becoming overcrowded
with other homeless families searching for goods. Luckily, he and his mother were alone behind
Jedynka. He felt safer there because he
trusted Caroline and waiting on her was more welcomed than the cries, coughing,
and fighting just yards away in the open street of Opole.
So Isaiah waited, and as he waited he tended to his mother after she
would cough.
He waited…
and waited…
and
waited all afternoon for Caroline to finish her performances and then retreat
to the back of the club to smoke. That
was when he would corner her and smile so she would give him a small portion of
what she had. Isaiah did not want it all
however. She was a Jewish woman, and he
understood Jewish women in Poland
were as worse of as he and his mother were.
As he waited the long afternoon, cleaned the dry spit around his
mother’s bottom lip, and forced the images of the explosion out of his mind,
Irwin arrived at the time he always did and asked Isaiah to play with him. Isaiah pitied his young lad because he was the
boy who spoke staring at the floor. Irwin
was also two years younger than Isaiah; a short, pale, and skinny boy who wore
a stained burlap sack as a shirt. Isaiah
would sometimes wonder why Irwin chose to wear the heavy beat up sack,
though when winter hit, Irwin beamed because he felt like the smartest on the
block. Irwin’s blue eyes would also
startle Isaiah by how they pulsated due to the veins on the corner of his eyes. One upward stare and those blue eyes told Isaiah of
Irwin’s anguish and hunger.
It was getting darker
and Caroline had still not visited him.
Isaiah felt she would soon charge out the club to relax and smoke, but
Isaiah also enjoyed giving Irwin a bit of his time because after they played,
Isaiah understood Irwin would leave to a separate alley to sleep where he hid
all his things. Irwin was Isaiah’s eyes
and ears of Opole. He managed to attract a lot of goods from
willing people since his decomposing look demanded what was understood as
“street” praise. Even the poor in Opole welcomed Irwin
until he stole from them. Since Isaiah
first met him in an alleyway, searching for food in a dumpster, Irwin had
always been a confident and direct boy, young but very recognizable from the
same large burlap sack he always wore with his quick snappy judgments and loud
talking inquisitions.
“You waiting for the blonde lady again?” Irwin asked Isaiah
with both hands in the makeshift pockets of his sack. One close glance and anyone could tell the
pockets were cut too wide to reveal some of Irwin’s inner thighs. As soon as he asked, Irwin picked up a rock
and chucked it to the door of Jedynka and both
boys watched as it landed at a
spot Isaiah felt was too close to where his mother rested.
“Ya” Isaiah spoke while staring at the rock. “Don't do that.
You should wait for me… I promise I will race you.” Isaiah’s promise appealed to Irwin as a
slight smile beamed at the corners of his mouth and his eyes flared up. Isaiah smiled too for he enjoyed seeing Irwin
smile. It was an impression that was
surprisingly convincing; it comforted Isaiah and assured him that he didn’t
need to feel sorry for Irwin. The young lad was
well liked and supported by a lot of the poor Jews on the streets of Opole, but he was also
unlucky. As Irwin slowly walked away and
kicked up rocks with his bare legs, Isaiah ogled his back and thought how the
Germans had taken Irwin’s parents and left him and his bigger brother, who
later passed away, to take care of each other when they were both five and
six. Isaiah especially liked Irwin
because they shared the loss of family at the same age. The minute Irwin had turned the corner while
now lifting and chucking the rocks as high in the air as he could, Caroline
sprang open the door and rested on the rail attached to the short stairs, eyes
sorrowful and head pointed to the heavens as if surveying the top of the alleyway
for God himself to reassure her everything will be fine. She did not see Isaiah at first as he beamed
with a deep impressed smile right under her feet, his head raised and his eyes
on her chin. Caroline then faced down
and, for a second, seemed to jump back at the sight of Isaiah.
As he suspected, she was beautiful.
Her large eyes glowed and pierced through him. He felt she knew his story by just the way her eyes rested on his. The heavy blue shade around her dark eyelashes matched perfectly with the green and bluish glow from the club. Her glittery skin, feathered leggins, and glossy lips made the cold chill in the alleyway simply, disappear.
She looked warm, rich, someone he felt he could shower with his collectibles. He immediately glanced at his opened jacket
and torn shorts. He knew he should have
changed for Caroline.
“It’s you little lad.” She said with what seemed to be a
sigh. “It is too cold to be out here” She
spoke as she eyed the heavens once more and then huffing as she threw her
cigarette away. Isaiah remained smiling
and staring at her cabaret gown. Caroline
seemed flustered as if she was in a hurry to get back to work. He wanted to ask if she was in a hurry but
remained frozen and smiling at her.
“Look, lad, you have to understand, I cannot be seen giving
you things. Ma employer would put me
back on the streets.” Caroline turned
around and stared at the metal door opened slightly ajar, with her hands on the rail, swaying
back and forth as if ready to jump to her death. She then turned back to Isaiah with a worried
look that stung a bit in his chest. He
sensed fright in her voice.
“Sorry if I get you in trouble Ms,” he said shamefully
dropping his head.
“No, its okay, its not you.” She spoke softly and dragged her words as
someone would when attempting to apologize for a mistake they had made. She even tried a smile to mask her nervous
expression to comfort the solemn boy.
“Thank you,” Isaiah blushed and uncurled his toes in his
socks. His bunions hurt and short jabs
of pain raced up his legs when he tried moving his toes without moving his
feet. He began wanting to run and leave
Caroline standing at the exit of the club before she could disappoint him as
others had done in his past, but he knew he could not leave his sickly mother sitting
in the alley. “I was just wondering if
today you had any-”
“I’m sorry no. And I
cannot keep giving you what I have.” Her
quick confession pained him in his chest as if the stabbing jolts in his foot
had raced to his heart. Her answer felt
rehearsed. He thought to himself he had
already lost Caroline. He had to keep
her, anyway he could he wanted to keep talking to her, he understood this was
the last time since she wanted nothing more to do with him.
"Oh I understand, well do you have any medicine for ma mum?”
“Medicine?”
“Your mum?”
“Yes,” Isaiah turned and pointed in the direction his mother sat
resting with her legs spread straight in front of her. As he looked at his mother, he began smiling.
For once, she seemed peaceful there. He then turned back to Caroline who he saw
had a different expression. She was
looking in the direction of Isaiah’s mother but with a gaze like the
German soldiers give when they curiously speculate the fitness of the Jews they wish to put to
work. She kept her hands on the rail and
inched her body closer, almost falling over as if trying to get a better look
at the resting woman. She frowned as she
turned back and gawked at Isaiah with a befuddled expression on her face.
“You need medicine for your mum?” She slowly raised her head to Isaiah and then
stared back at the mother. After what
felt like the longest minute, Caroline relaxed her shoulders as she slowly took
her hands of the railing.
“Oh son…” Caroline mumbled under her breathe and then reached
into her bosom to draw several bills.
Isaiah was less concerned with her perplexed manner than he was with the
items she was able to remove from a hidden breast pocket. “Here, you need to leave. It is cold out here. Take these bills.” After gently tossing a ball of money to
Isaiah, Caroline reached once again into her breast pocket to retrieve a small
torn piece of paper.
“You can find him at the Cove passed late.” He may be able to help you.” Caroline gestured
to the paper as Isaiah read the name Sparrow sloppily written in black ink.
“Be careful with him lad, he is a dangerous fellow if you git
on his wrong side. I shouldn't even be
given you his name, so if he asks tell him Caroline sent you and she will give
him double.” She then turned around, and
after straightening her back and radiating a confidence that seemed to re-energize the color in her rainbow streamed cabaret uniform, she strutted back into the club. She did not wait for Isaiah to thank her as
she loudly closed the door, completely shutting Jedynka’s rhythmic beat from
the quiet alley, where Isaiah stood with mouth wide open and grinning at the
loot his love just handed him.
▼
As Isaiah played with the money in
one hand and stared at the piece of paper in his other, he repeatedly expressed
his gratitude to Caroline even though she had already retreated inside. He remained smiling and skipped to his mother
to show her what he had collected. Upon
reaching his mother, Isaiah dropped to his knees and drew the torn paper close
to his face.
“Spa-r-o… sparrow?” Isaiah read again to himself the name Caroline
had handed him. He retuned to smiling
and glanced at his mother who he was happy to see smile back at him through
half rested eyes. His heart raced.
“We are going to get you some
medicine mama. I think Caroline just
saved us. She saved us mama, God bless
her. See mama, there are good people
still living in Poland. You know mama she is just like Irwin… she is
nice and sweet, just like Irwin. And you
know what; this person, Sparrow, must be nice especially if he knows
Caroline. Don’t you think so mama?” Soon after, he relaxed his grinning face as
he watched his mother cough. As he
watched her, he thought to himself that he could not wait to get her the best
Christmas surprise that will be better than rough blankets, and better than
money, but a trip out of Opole.
Isaiah slumped over the mattress
and waited for his mother’s eyes to close so he could run to find Irwin and
join him. He played with the socks on
his feet and took in the smell of dirt and lead from the cemented alleyway. As he watched his mother’s eyes, he listened
to more explosions in the distance. He
could hear the fast beating music reverberating from the club, though the
distant bombs were more deafening. The
bombs drowned out everything and swallowed the city of Opole into complete chaos and desolation. Isaiah bit his cracked lips as he grew more
scared of the fighting that he sensed was drawing closer to him. He wondered why the Germans insisted on
fighting and grew more furious because he suspected they were coming to take
his mother away. The stark realization
that his mother may be a sitting target caused him to struggle his way up from
the cardboard, and after dusting of the jagged rocks from the asphalt that
stuck to the palm of his hand and the bottom of his chin, Isaiah climbed into
the club’s dumpster. The wind grew
colder as the air in Opole
glazed into a dark and smoky fog. Isaiah
searched for a cloth he could share with his mother. Sharp edges of tossed cardboard and boxes
stung him as he searched. He smeared his
blood from the small cuts on the moist and sticky sides of the dumpster. It was a process he became accustomed to. Dried blood on his fingers from past
scrounging relieved the pain from the blisters and the deep wounds on his hands. Finally, he stumbled across a thick garb that
he then tore in half and draped over himself before climbing out of the
dumpster to place over his mother.
“I’ll be back mama just rest and
relax, going to play with Irwin okay?” Isaiah slowly inched closer to his
mother’s face and gently kissed her on the lips. He thought to himself that she must be
getting very sick, her lips felt like a wet and cold slab.
Isaiah ran as fast as he could in
his race against Irwin, with the same intensity he watched the Jewish men run
from the German soldiers. He was already
tired having to track down Irwin whom he found in a bustling alleyway down from
where he kept his mother, shuddering and tossing rocks on the wall adjacent
from him. There were many Polish and
Jewish people there, mostly men pushing and shoving their way into the door of
a dilapidated building. Other men lounged
on short stairs or smoked cigarettes while leaning on the walls in front of the
entrance. When they remained still, they
resembled lifeless silhouettes as their gray and damp looks fell in place with
the dry dullness of the bricked shops and homes. Oddly, they looked right at home here in Opole.
“Why are you waiting all the way
down here?” Isaiah had asked Irwin when
he found him.
“The rest of the street is cold and
quiet. At least here there are people
like me.” As they raced, Isaiah stared
at the back of Irwin’s shirt as it flapped in the wind. As he chased Irwin, he thought the boy was
small but a lot faster than he looked.
Isaiah wondered how many times Irwin has had to run from Germans. The two friends had decided that for their
race, they would start from where Isaiah’s mother stayed and run to the busy
alleyway with the Polish and Jewish men.
As the boys ran, their bare feet tapped at the pavement and for several
seconds, some men watched them and were pleased to see the playful competition
by two boys. For that split second, the pleasure
the men had in seeing the two boys run resembled the joyous parades that once
gave Opole life.
One man in particularly, who wore an
overcoat that covered his neck to his shoes, grinned at them as he calmly smoked
his cigarette. There were no German
attacks or screaming mothers, only the soft beating music from Jedynka in the
distance, the rustle and competitive jeers of the men on the other end of the
street, and the joyous laughter from Isaiah and Irwin.
Isaiah had now caught up to Irwin and was
running beside him. Soon after, a slight
grin formulated at the sides of his mouth when he realized he increased several
paces past his friend. Irwin was fast,
however since the two met Isaiah had never lost a race to Irwin. For Irwin, the race was playful and a way to
challenge his friend Isaiah. For Isaiah,
beating Irwin was a matter of life and death.
As the two boys ran, they neared the finish by the crowded
alleyway. There was nothing stopping
Isaiah’s victory, not even the thick garb around his neck was going to slow him
down. Isaiah’s grin turned into laughter
because he was going to reach the end before Irwin. He wanted
Irwin to know that he was still faster than him, though a sudden abrupt stumble
on the garb that hung loosely around his neck and fell to the floor caused Isaiah
to stop running. Irwin hurriedly passed
his friend but also stopped before nearing the end to turn to Isaiah.
READ REST WITH...
“Isaiah what’s wrong why did you
stop?” Irwin slowly crept back as if
expecting Isaiah’s abrupt standstill to be a trick. Isaiah remained dazed, however, and was not
answering Irwin’s calls.
“You okay Isaiah?”
“I do not think we should race to
there.”
“What? Why?” Irwin stopped walking towards Isaiah
and turned to face the crowded men who were still jeering and beaming for the
race to finish.
“My mama, she is not safe I need to
go back to her.” As Isaiah spoke, he too
was unsure as to why he suddenly did not wish to run to the men in the
alleyway. The two had gone racing up and
down the streets by Jedynka many times before, though a burning feeling in the
pit of Isaiah’s stomach warned him to turn around, something has happened to
mother.
“I have to check on mama,” Isaiah mumbled
to himself as he stared with teary eyes at Irwin.
“Why
am I crying?”
“If this is a trick you do not win
this race. You cannot cheat, Isaiah!”
Irwin angrily glared at Isaiah before deciding to turn and carry his worn feet
to the finish line.
“Stop, Irwin I don’t feel right! We should go check on her, I think we have
been away from her too long,” but Irwin was already determined to finish and
was farther away from Isaiah. Isaiah
grew frightened; his stomach tightened and began to agitate him the same way it
had soon after the explosion that took his father and two sisters. Confused, he hesitated and inched closer to
the crowd of men Irwin was now a part of.
Isaiah panted as he turned back as if searching for his mother.
“I
need to check on her”
After several hesitant paces in the direction of the crowd,
Isaiah once again decided to stop and turn to where the race began, where he
left his mother. As he focused his gaze
at the alleyway he remembered leaving his mother, he began retreating towards
her and then…
Shrieks and ominous yells engulfed from the crowd of
men. Isaiah, startled, turned to face
them. He noticed the bulky man with the overcoat
now holding what looked like a metal box in one hand and a string of wires in
the other. The crowd seemed to be
fleeing from him and so did a teary eyed Irwin who ran in the direction of
Isaiah.
“Irwin!” As soon as Isaiah called his young friend’s
name, an explosion shook the windows from the buildings surrounding the bulky man
as Isaiah dropped to his knees in the middle of the street with his hands
covering his eyes. Everything and
everyone beside the bulky man however were swallowed by the explosion and the
already damaged cars and street signs were carried from their posts and
scattered in the air, ultimately landing in new muddled positions. Irwin was fast, but unlucky. His small feet was carried into the air as he
was engulfed by the rising orange and red flame that swallowed him like the
blast that took Isaiah’s sisters.
“What is happening?”
Amidst car horns, screams, and moaning, Isaiah hurriedly
retreated to the alleyway where he left his mother. The explosion was deafening and vibrated in
his ear, his legs shaky and smeared with blood that was not his, his eyes a blood
shot red and nose also trickling with black, dry blood. Isaiah did not care. He had to make sure his mother was still
safe.
