She probably had no choice as I was threatening the life of her brother at the time.
I told her I had him confined at an undisclosed location. At first she didn’t believe me. She thought I was bluffing.
I have your brother, I said.
She said, What do you mean you have him?
I have your brother, I said, that’s exactly what I mean.
Where do you have him?
I have him confined at an undisclosed location.
I don’t believe you, she said. You’re bluffing, she said.
This is when I showed her a Polaroid of her brother tied up and gagged at the undisclosed location. I propped up a copy of that day’s newspaper on his chest to prove this was actually happening and I meant business.
I saw someone do this in a movie once.
In the movie they didn’t leave a telephone for the hostage to answer. This is how what I’ve done is better than the movie.
I’m not exactly sure how it’s better but I know that it is.
I told my friend not to get any big ideas about calling the cops. I told him if he called the cops I’d have to do unspeakable things to his sister.
This is how they talk in the movies, so I figured I should do likewise.
He knew I meant business. Still, he said I should reconsider. I told him I thought this all the way through, that I knew what I was doing.
The sister said again, I can’t believe this.
I said, What can’t you believe?
She said, This, what it is you’re doing.
I said, It’s a regular day for real people. Nothing more.
The sister said, I don’t know what that means.
I said, No one does.
I told her it was something to do, a reason to live. I told her everyone needed a new way of life and this was the beginning of it. I talked about purpose, something to look forward to, goals and dreams. I talked about what I’d seen from my window, how I couldn’t imagine any of it. I talked about defenestration, said it might not be the right answer, but it was indeed an answer. She said, But I don’t understand the question. I told her, You and me both.
I knew the sister was a great tennis player, which was part of the thrill, to play someone on that level, to challenge myself like this with something at stake.
I’d seen her play years before. I think this is when my plan started to come together, watching her toy with those overmatched teenaged opponents. The skirts she wore back then, that ponytail bouncing behind her, as playful as a little dog.
But this plan never took shape until recently. Back then it was an idea, a best guess, something akin to fantasy, one that I’d never realize, in all likelihood.
I guess things changed after I realized that life was everyday tedious and who cared anymore.
Part of the deal was I’d release her brother either way, after the match, regardless of the outcome.
Still, she might’ve felt a certain pressure to throw the match if she cared at all about her brother.
I didn’t discourage this.
I may’ve even said, I hope this works out, for your brother’s sake.
To make it more cinematic, I had to tune up her brother a little. It’s more effective if the Polaroid indicates the hostage has been beaten.
I took no pleasure in beating my friend like that.
I told him this. I told him, I take no pleasure in having to beat you like this. I told him I had no choice.
He took the beating like a man, I’ll say that much for him.
The match started early in the morning, before the sun could get vindictive, before the rain could go sideways and the wind, as well.
The weather promised to be an issue all day. They were calling for temperatures in the mid-90s come early afternoon, with the possibility of thunderstorms.
We warmed up together, as tennis players do, starting with mini for a few minutes, then to the baseline for ground strokes. Then she came to the net for volleys and overheads, then I did, then we served into both courts, both deuce and ad.
I could tell she was focused.
There was a buzz as the crowd gathered. Apparently, word had gotten out.
I was a legend by the time I turned fourteen, so it’s no surprise. By then I was already the biggest and strongest in our neighborhood and could serve upward of 140 miles per hour.
I was on the lookout for a film crew, as I’d heard that a famous documentary filmmaker had gotten wind of this.
But that was years ago, I think. I hadn’t played since the injury, since my friend low-bridged me during a friendly game of touch football.
I did think of this as I tuned him up earlier. I may’ve even said this out loud. As I broke his jaw, I may’ve said, Remember the friendly game of touch football in the park.
He said he was sorry, but I didn’t believe him. He said it was part of the game, that he didn’t mean it, that it wasn’t illegal.
I spun the racket and said, Up or down? My friend’s sister waited a split second and said, Up, and when the racket fell to the court, the logo was indeed pointing up.
