Mark Falkin - The Late Bloomer

JLM: No no no. Not at all. That’s not it at all.

KGM: Johnny’s pacing. My brother paces back and forth. He’s agitated, he’s—

JLM: Stop. Always talking. All you ever did. Your world. Talk talk talk.

[sounds of children humming one note; loud close surf]

[sounds of the ocean; whales rubbing against the pier; sounds of gulls crying]

KGM: Yes. We talked. I talked. I had to tell the story.

JLM: Why?

KGM: I can’t explain it.

[children’s humming falls away]

JLM: Yes you can. Tell us.

KGM: He waves his hand like a game show host over the huge crowd of kids surrounding us.

[sounds of the ocean; whales rubbing against the pier; sounds of gulls crying]

To understand, I guess. To try to understand. To make a record so we can remember what happened.

JLM: Blah blah blah.

KGM: You’re holding your head. [sounds of children humming low]

JLM: I don’t want to remember. Stop making us…

[sounds of the ocean; whales rubbing against the pier; sounds of gulls crying]

KGM: Why did you bring me here, then?

[long pause]

KGM: You’re looking around. Your face is desperate. The faces around you look back with cold indifference—

JLM: —I don’t want to do this!

KGM: Do what, Johnny?

JLM: You want me to explain? You want me to talk ? So you can understaaannnnnd ? Well, I won’t do that. [JLM sniffing [37] In my normal voice, I sound upset here. ] We do. Kevin? Do you understand? We just do. We take care of each other. Each and every one, all the time. We know each other’s faces intimately. We don’t have names for each other. Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you get what that means? You call me Johnny because that’s all you know and I respond to it with words right now because I have to.

[long pause]

[sounds of the ocean; whales rubbing against the pier; sounds of gulls crying]

KGM: You think this will last?

JLM: It just is. There’s no thinking to do. The morning of, as you call it, it all changed. Simple.

KGM: Simple.

JLM: That’s right. But you can’t understand that.

KGM: It’ll break down, Johnny.

JLM: There’s nothing to break down. We just are, and we just do. We exist, we sing and then we die. So simple.

[sounds of the ocean; whales rubbing against the pier; sounds of gulls crying]

[long pause]

JLM: [the voice wet and flangey] It’s time.

KGM: Johnny? All these kids are milling around. Lining up. Johnny?

JLM: It’s time. And that’s all.

KGM: [voice sounding clipped and panicked; sounds of heavy breathing] Why not just let me and Kodie go? What’s it matter?

JLM: Because we can’t.

KGM: Why? Is this the beginning?

JLM: No. You were lied to. No. This… this is the end. And that’s all.

KGM: We can do this together. Or you can let us go and we won’t bother you. We promise.

JLM: It’s not a task I want, Kevin. You must know that. I need you to know that.

[long pause]

[sounds of children humming]

[sounds of KGM’s amazement; a quick intake of breath; the ocean wind booming hard on the microphone; voices obscured]

KGM: That thing out there… it’s moving… oh, it’s… oh, Johnny what is that thing?

JLM: [whispering] Don’t look at it, Kevin. [38] I say this in my normal voice.

KGM: WHAT IS IT?!

JLM: It doesn’t matter.

KGM: Does it come for me?

JLM: It doesn’t matter.

KGM: [ocean wind cuts out the voice] You’re [unintelligible] Johnny. [unintelligible] just happen. You can’t [unintelligible] won’t let you [unintelligible] controls you. [39] I have listened to this innumerable times and have employed different techniques to bring up the sound clarity. Knowing my brother’s voice, vocal inflections and what he was trying to say, I am confident that what he said here was: “You’re a liar, Johnny. Things don’t just happen. You can’t talk about it because it won’t let you. I know it’s not you. It’s making you do this. Just remember that. It controls you. It needs you to need it.”

[sound of many many children humming, growing into a note] It needs you to [unintelligible].

KJL: [her voice far away; some of it lost in the wind] What is that? Jesus Christ, Kevin! Johnny!? What is that out there? [her voice a shriek]

JLM: It doesn’t matter. [very flangey voice now]

KGM: Kodie! I’m here! Let me see her! No! Move! They won’t let me by. [speaking into the microphone] Johnny’s eyes are fluttering, closing… he’s raising his arms like he’s done before, like, heh, his goddamned Wayne Rooney poster on his wall… the thing out there… it moves, dear reader. Mom! Dad! Martin! Mr. E!

[pause; heavy breathing]

[whispering loud and close into the microphone] Grandma Lucille— help me! It moves. No such thing as luck. Oh my God, it moves so terribly.

[the humming note rises, changes form, rises again]

It’s… coming. Close close close.

[the microphone cuts out]

[sounds of the ocean; sounds of gulls crying]

JLM: Kevin. It’s over now. Kevin, wake up. [40] I believe I hold the recorder and have started recording.

KGM: [voice groggy] What?

[long pause]

JLM: It’s time.

KGM: [pause] It’s not… Where’d it go?

JLM: It’s time.

KGM: Time? Time for what?

JLM: It’s time.

KGM: I don’t understand.

JLM: It isn’t to be understood. It just is.

KGM: What?

[the mass of children begin humming again; a different, darker note, unlike any other on this recording]

KGM: [voice cracking] Why? Oh no no no no. God, why?

[voice emotional but collected] My brother holds a plastic grocery bag. [sound of sniffing] Oh god he’s tearing it open.

[pause] [sounds of sniffing] [sounds of the ocean; sounds of gulls crying]

He holds the stone. The price sticker from the HEB…

[pause] [sounds of sniffing] [sounds of the ocean; sounds of gulls crying; children humming low and thick]

KGM: Johnny, wait. Can I… Will you let me play a song? Can someone get my trombone? It’s… I don’t know. Somewhere.

[long pause] [sounds of sniffing] [sounds of the ocean; sounds of gulls crying]

[close sounds of KGM opening the trombone case; sniffling]

JLM: [voice wet and flangey, through crying] Play, Kevin.

KGM: Where’s Kodie? [Kevin sounds strong now, resolved]

JLM: She couldn’t watch.

KGM: [big deep sigh]

[sounds of the ocean; sounds of gulls crying]

As I’m about to raise my horn to my lips I see ten thousand children step aside together to reveal many small piles of stones. They each stroll over and pick one up. Each of them with a smooth brown stone. [voice hitched, sounding surprised] Ah, oh —[breathing quickly] they snap into a line that goes down the beach. They all put their hands behind their backs. Johnny steps up to within several feet of me. I will now raise my horn to my lips, dear reader, and I will play for you “When the Saints Go Marching In”. The jazzier, snappy version Grandma Lucille really liked.

[loud and close to the microphone, [41] Apparently I hold the recorder close to the mouth of the trombone. the song [42] Also known as “The Saints.” Though KGM plays an instrumental, the opening lyrics to this famous song of the old world are as follows: Oh, when the saints go marching in Oh, when the saints go marching in Lord I want to be in that number When the saints go marching in plays]

[tussling sound; scratching on the microphone]

KGM: [his voice clear and loud directly into the microphone [43] KGM has snatched the recorder from me and speaks into it. ] Dear reader! You! Don’t keep this between me and you! Don’t you do that! You’ve got to know what happened. You must remember. And you must fight back! This isn’t the way it has to be! It can’t be! You’ve got to remem—