Wednesday, March 26, 2014

A Story About Frankie



Frankie thinks he can see through walls if he looks long enough. He’d practice at the shop on his breaks until the other guys started making fun of him. During lunch he’s taken to folding the newspaper into quarters and pretending to do the crossword. All the while he’s looking over the top of it, fixed on the other end of the room.

I asked him about it before he got all secretive. He was taking a smoke break, but just letting the cigarette turn to ash while he stared. Why walls? I said. Frankie jumped. A guy my size, Frankie’s the only one I can sneak up on. What? He said. He looked flustered. May it’s because those were the first words we ever spoke to each other.

-I heard you’re trying to seeing through walls.

Frankie shrugs. I go on.

-Why not try something easier first, like paper or cardboard or something.

One of the other guys laughs.

-It doesn’t work that way, he says. It’s got to do with the molecules, and- I read this thing about walls and how the molecules and there’s like this probability and if things align right, and like it said, just because something is improbable, don’t make it impossible. You know? …It was explained better in this thing I read.

Jim caught the tail end of this answer. Oh yeah yeah yeah, he says, cigarette in mouth. He lights, puffs and continues. Makes perfect sense. I heard this guy who found a way to see through walls… it’s called a window.


Frankie drops his ashy cigarette and stomps it out with his boot. He leaves before I can ask him what I really want to know – What wall does he want to see through?