Category Archives: America

Friday Flash: Flight from the Battlefield

angel

As my knife sinks into the apple, I hear my neighbor screaming. His pain vibrates the sheetrock between us. I lean against the counter with a sigh.

He has only been home two weeks and already his wife has dropped ten pounds, forgot to wash her hair, formed bruises under her eyes and hefted a landfill load of worry and sorrow onto her narrow shoulders.

They have a child; a blue-eyed waif of a little girl, who seems to be disappearing into the background of their lives, pushed aside by the ghosts he has brought home with him.

I saw her yesterday. Her eyes have grown round with shock. My heart shattered, splintering right there in the hallway, in front of her silence and her headless doll.

“Where is her head?” I asked.

“I didn’t want her to get headaches like daddy,” she whispered back.

A box came through the door, followed by two people with tight faces and wide eyes. Haunted, I thought. The ghosts were busy. Peeking in the box as they passed with unsmiling faces, I caught a glimpse of a paint ball gun on top of rope and kitchen knifes. A black stick with a trigger was clutched in the tall, crumpled man’s hand. His knuckles were white.

I send over an apple pie and a note to call me if they need anything. I feel helpless.

The knock comes at three in the morning. A frantic pound pound pound. A wild noise pushed from her throat, a scream forming words, “Call 911”. The pale, wide-eyed child in a dirty nightgown is pushed into my leg by her mother, Karen. “Please,” she chokes, then turning away, she barrels down the stairs.

I know what has happened, I just don’t know how. Tentatively, I step into their apartment with the child clinging to my arm. The place smells like Lysol and old grease. Moonlight is pouring through the open window along with a light mist of rain. A lone white curtain billows from a gust of wind. I see it as a thinly veiled flag of surrender.

Their worn leather couch is turned on its back, pillows stacked neatly in rows across it. Evidently, something the maddening ghosts built. The people carrying out the box didn’t realize they were leaving the most deadly arsenal behind. I shake my head and look down at their victim, stroking her pale face. She is staring at her doll.

“Where are her arms?” I ask, a bit shocked her doll is disappearing piece by piece.

“She doesn’t need arms anymore,” she whispers, dropping the broken doll to the wood floor.

     No, I think, as sirens scream below the open window. Wings. She needed wings.

Collapsing onto the floor, I pull her down into my arms and begin to sing quietly to her.

Her tears finally fall and I think about gravity. The ground’s pull must be infinitely stronger than human will. It is, after all, the place where we all end up.

A Different Kind of Victim

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I’ve been following a different kind of serial killer case here in Florida. A case of serial cat killings in Miami.  An eighteen year old by the name of Tyler Weinman was arrested for these cat killings and charged with 19 felony counts of animal cruelty and 19 counts of improperly disposing of the bodies, among other charges. (Disclaimer: he has not been proven guilty yet)

If you haven’t heard about this, here’s a few facts about Tyler:

–His parents are divorced.  His father is a dentist in Palmetto Bay and his mother is a life coach in Cutler Bay, these are the two neighborhoods where the cats were killed.

–He told police he despises his father.

–Miami-Dade Police Department’s psychological services concluded that Weinman fits the profile of a sociopath.

–If convicted of all charges, Weinman could get up to 158 years in prison.

Now, the thing that fascinates me the most about this case  is reading the reaction of the public.  Words like “subhuman” and “evil” were being used. People wanted him hung, skinned alive, locked up for life.

Well, okay…I can see the locked up for life thing. I was just as horrified by the cruelty of these acts as everyone else and killing animals does put him at a higher risk for moving up to people.  Besides, we Americans feel that our pets are members of our families. It’s not like it is in countries, like China, who consider cats livestock. (And don’t get me started on China)  So, the outrage is justified.  But there’s something else here to remember:

This is a child that WE failed as a society.

This is a child with deep, deep psychological problems. A child without the ability to feel empathy, to feel guilt, to feel love. If he feels anything it is rage. Who’s fault is that? Who’s responsibility is it? His parents? His kindergarten teacher? His doctor, neighbor, friend, aunt, coach, boy scout leader? I’m willing to bet someone along the way noticed the fact that this kid was in trouble.  In fact, I’m willing to bet a lot of people along the way noticed and turned their backs. Not their responsibility.

Would you want your son to end up like this? Because somebody’s son did. We owe it to our future children to figure out WHY.

So, yes–the deaths of these family pets breaks my heart and I hope the victims of these crimes can find peace in their good memories.

But the life of the human being named Tyler Weinman is one that we should all be mourning, also.