Brooklyn Half - 3

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Tompkins Square Park is full of conscientious dog walkers, hipster students and pram pushing parents. At 3.28pm on a Thursday afternoon there is absolutely nothing to fear from this gentrified plot of recreational land. So why couldn’t Brook shake the sensation that she was being watched? The Elm trees that had soothed her in her childhood suddenly felt sinister.

She sat on a bench seat next to the dog run waiting for her friend Shaun who was running late. Nothing unusual there, he was always late and Brook usually compensated by turning up fifteen minutes late herself. But today she couldn’t stand to be at home, with her Dad brooding and angsty and trying to remain sober, trying to be strong for her, his wayward and possibly deranged daughter.

They had sedated her and when she came to, told her that there was never anyone sharing her hospital room. That she had dreamed the conversation with the boy and then woken up afraid and confused. A not unusual side effect of the pain killers and all of the emotional pressure.

Brook could tell that behind the rationalization and concern they thought she was mad. ‘Kookie’ as her friend Shaun would say. She couldn’t really blame them. First the ears and then the attack. And what she hadn’t told them was even weirder. Even in her terrified state she had known enough to hold that back.

When the pain had dulled enough they put her through the psych ringer. She lied her way through three separate evaluations before they let her go home with Judd. And even then she had a newly assigned social worker to keep tabs on them and an appointment with the psychologist every other week. She could tell Judd was pissed about this but he was doing his best to handle it and didn’t seem to blame her. Judd said he blamed himself. Brook thought the only thing he was to blame for was not letting her have that stupid operation years ago.

Once she was home the whole thing seemed less real. Maybe she had dreamed it. Or maybe she was as crazy as they all thought. She was Judd’s daughter after all, it was probably genetic. About time she started seeing demon boy apparitions.

And now the squirrels were making her nervous. A particularly beady eyed black one was making its way toward her bench. She reached into her bag and found her can of mace and then Shaun finally turned up.

‘Wassup earless,’ he said as he sat down next to her. “Go on show me. That’s some f#$%ed up s!@# right there. What’d you use to get’em off?

She slapped his hand away. In a normal situation she would have jibed straight back at the unfunny prat but things definitely weren’t normal right now.

“Oh, oh, oh. You know I love you, I always got your back, but damn girl, you really walkin on the wild side with this s!@#.”

‘Knock it off. Do you see that squirrel?’ she hissed.

‘I can see a fricken hundred squirrels, the damn rodents are everywhere… c’mon wassup with you?’

It had disappeared, Blackie was gone and the squirrels rummaging around the trees were once again just innocent vermin making their way in the city.

She looked at Shaun and wondered if her best friend, her only friend really, would understand what she was trying to contend with…

“Shaun before you turned up I was just about to mace a squirrel and I think I’m going insane.”

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