Terminal Visions by Richard Paul Russo

Author:Richard Paul Russo
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780965590136
Publisher: Golden Gryphon
Published: 2023-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

View from Above

Tomczak wished he were drunk. Then maybe he could stand it, this damn job.

From ten stories up, on a platform of wood and rope, supported by more rope from the roof above, Tomczak looked down at the lunch crowds walking past below him. Businessmen, businesswomen, secretaries and clerks, delivery people. Let one of them come up here and wash windows!

He thought about kicking the large pail of soapy water, tipping it onto its side, spilling gallons of water onto the people below. Oh, so sorry, an accident, my sincerest apologies. Maybe if he were drunk he’d have the balls to do it.

The platform swayed in a sudden gust of wind, and Tomczak grabbed onto the rope rail for support. Of course, if he were drunk he’d probably get sick up here and vomit, sending his breakfast spraying down ten stories, scattered by the breeze. Tomczak smiled at the image, turned back to the window.

He stared at the glass, trying to remember whether or not he’d washed it yet. It didn’t look too clean, but that didn’t mean much; he was never very thorough. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t been fired yet, for Christ’s sake. Probably because he did clean every damn window, he came into work on time every day, stayed late if he had to, and never called in sick, not once, even when he felt like hell. With his wife and kids at home, no way was he going to take a sick day.

Well, he decided, the window looked clean enough, whether he’d washed it or not. Screw it.

Tomczak stepped across to the rope controls, prepared to lower himself one floor, when a familiar, high-pitched voice called up from below.

“Daddy! Daddy, lookit us!”

Tomczak’s head jerked, he leaned over the rope and looked down into the crowds, searching. Then he saw, on the sidewalk across the street, two waving arms flanking three very familiar faces.

No, this was just too much. Ten stories below, backs against the stone wall of another tall building, faces turned upward and looking at him, were his wife and two boys. Marta was holding their hands, and the two boys each waved at him with a free arm.

“Daddy! Daddy, we’re watching you!”

No kidding. Why had that damn woman brought them here, for Christ’s sake?

Tomczak noticed that other people on the sidewalks, hearing his two boys, had stopped and were looking up at him. Wonderful. It was going to be a show now, was it? Damn her. He turned away from them, focused his attention back on the ropes and pulleys, began to lower himself to the ninth floor.

“Daddy, can you see us?”

Not a chance, kid, I’m blind and deaf. Tomczak tried to ignore the two boys, tried to concentrate on the ropes, prayed to God his wife wouldn’t start up, too. That’s all he’d need, that grating voice yelling up at him.

He worked the platform down to the ninth floor and secured it, then turned his attention to the window in front of him.

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