stop children, what's that sound

There are a lot of things that make a good story on paper. Or the stage. Or a movie screen. Drama. Conflict. Violence. But put them in real life… it’s not so entertaining. No. It is real. Seldom neat and tidily wrapped up.

Maybe you noticed my Facebook posts today. Maybe not. It’s not really my life… just the setting for eight hours of five days out of my week. And on one of the days that I’m not here, there was a deadly shooting in the building next door.

It’s weird. That’s all I can say for today. I shook a little last night when I read the initial reports. I’ve been in that pizza place. I’ve shared banter with the flirty owner. I’ve eaten their pizza. And I walk down that sidewalk many many times. Like hundreds, thousands of others in this part of Boston. This event made the normalcy of this location… weird.

Oddly enough, I was skulking on my computer last night when I first read the news on Facebook. Prior to that I was watching an episode of Torchwood (this has relevance, trust me). The plot was about ‘ghosts’ or, rather the energy of emotion -and the fact that energy does not always leave a place even when the human who felt the thing does. I know it’s science fiction. But, well, that’s really what I believe ghosts are. Shadows of emotion.

So… what is the shadow lingering in the air today? It’s still a pretty regular Monday. I’ve got lots to do at this computer to keep me busy. But I’ve also got five news vans outside my window, obstructing my view with the towering satellites. The sirens still go by. They always do, but I hear them differently today. The car speakers are still vibrating their alternate hip hop/Latino/broadway tunes. But… go outside… and intermingled with it all… is a chill. A stillness. A… ghost, if you will.

I really felt it when I went to get my lunch. Not on edge. Just… edgy. Tense. A collective apprehension about being five doors away in a public eatery from the scene of the crime. None of us expected anything… but there was that shadow. That unspoken albeit understood fear that the reality of this drama could have happened sixteen hours later. Because it all was so random.

And maybe… that’s the frightening bit. I keep reading and hearing how this is the safe part of JP. It is. I still think it is. It’s full of so many good people. People who are just like me. People who love and hate and hurt and get angry and sometimes lose rationality and do something they will regret forever. Or as a consequence… lose forever. So it could happen anywhere. Not just the city of Boston. Not just the city. Horrors like this happened in my wee little hometown. People lose control. People lose sight. And people make horrible decisions that ripple not just directly, but indirectly throughout an entire community.

One could say this is the spotlight on a different reality. That it helps me to understand the ripple effects felt by so many of the kids who go through our program. That it makes me feel why our organization is so valuable and necessary in this city. Right. Now. But… it is also a lesson that anything can happen at any time. 

I’m sure the insanity of holidays and scurrying to the grocery store tonight will allow the weirdness to drift back to the recesses of my mind. But… well, I do wonder if that weirdness and shadowy presence of ghosts made things clear for a fleeting moment or two.