Motherless Brooklyn
**spoiler if
noir isnt your gamejazz isnt dont
bother anif ya do bother understand that your opinion
isnt worth shit so you might as well keep it to yourself
the film is stitchedheld together
by its music
the music holds it in its arms
like a swaddled babe
if the music hadnt been so
compelling his interest would have wanedbeen lost
noir hes watched it since he was a kid those made in the 40s 50s yes in glorious black and white
Motherless tried
it fell short
the film reminded him of a winter
night when he was a teenager
he and his kid brothernot a year
younger were walking home from a bowling alley on Milwaukee Avenue
rather than walk into the bite of
the wind and cold they took a shortcut across the frozenover Des Plaines River
fingers crossed
they walked onto it sixseven feet
apart shuffling their feet and listened devotedly
they were consciousthey talked
about it on the bank before stepping onto the glazed snowswirled ice if one went through it they wouldnt take
the other with them and possibly the other might have a shot at pulling the
floundering brother out as long as he
didnt get swept under
or
so they thought
they were pretty stoned
but being stoned made them feel light as feathers
if they were drunk they would have been heavier
andrunk they would have
walked the extra quarter mile up Milwaukee and crossed over the Des Plaines on the traffic bridge
stoned
they werent so disposed
obviously they made it
it was stunning how hard he listened as they walked listened to the snowmuffled creaks and cracks like an old abandoned house breathing sighing waiting patiently for someone who would never come
under them he listened to the
water run running black and cold
he imagined what tumbling
might look like if the ice gave way could he
find up could he punch up through it to gain a handhold before his breath ran out
he didnt think so
so he quit imagining and listened harder yet
he never knew what his brother
thought
he never asked
maybe because reaching the other
sidealmost to the bank his brothers leg went through the ice up to his knee
the river was shallow there
he had already made the bank
he grabbed a fallen limb held it
out and pulled him up onto the snowy ground
all his brother said was
Goddammit
that was thanks enough
it had been his idea to cross the ice
they walked through the trees and
eventually found the road that meandered through the forest preserve
they were familiar with it
lots of family summer and fall picnics and
barbecues were held there at the different open-air pavilions picnic tables anchored to concrete slabs beneath
corrugated iron roofs some even had wood
dancing floors lots of footstomping polkas
to accordion players
as they walked past the pavilions on the ash and graveled
road he could hear soft howls bits and pieces faint ghost music playing he could see his younger self playing egg
toss and water balloon toss the
winning two won a homemade fruit pie or cake or fruit preserves relishes
pickles
hed won better than his fair share
hed won better than his fair share
they walked briskly
his brothers
sodden foot and frozen pant leg kept a striking cadence
thensuddenly his brother stoppedhis eyes
darting left and right You hear that?
he listened
nothing
he shook his head no
his brother stood fast listening
then he shook his head no too
they struck off
then
his brother pulled up There. That?
he listened
nothing
he shook his head no
his brother listened
he shrugged
he shook his head no too
they struck off
thensuddenly again There. That.
he almost slippedfell onto
his face stopping abruptly
he listened
no nothing
he shook his head
You
didnt hear that?
he shook his head No
You
sure?
I
havent heard a thing
Alright.
they walked threefiftyfourhundred
meters
his brother pulled up again That?
That What
You
don’t hear that?
No
his brother stood listening You
don’t hear that?
No
Then never mind. Must be my soundtrack.
1541, Saturday,
2 11. 19
1052, Thursday,
7 11. 19
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