hell is a half acre

heaven ain't the rest

While dreaming and (apparently) screaming and thrashing and being restrained for trying to rip out the needles and tubes saving my life this month, my fever dreams reminded me of the greatest fear I knew as a child.

That the world is an illusion. That outside of the house where Doberman Pinschers bite me (I was 5) and the Son of Sam was under the bed, in the closet, and able (not unlike Bela Lugosi’s Count Dracula) to appear and disappear at will (it was the summer of 1977 and part of 1976 - we lived in 2 parts of Queens and my mother was a nurse). Berkowitz wounded and killed a nurse, a nursing student, and a medic among his victims.

I had a library card from the age of 4 (“If he can sign his own name then he can have a library card. He can check out what he can carry” said the woman at Glen Oaks Library whose name I wish I knew).

So I was able to read the papers and understand enough to worry about my mother walking to Deepdale Hospital.

I was so scared that what was out there, everything became illusory. So I went outside. I sat on the steps. The stoop. I watched people play games. I played on the swings. I refused to let the cool air and the trees and the world be a dream.

As the feeling subsided, outside the house became the closest thing to Heaven.

Inside? Locked inside? Hurting? In pain? Like the NYPD Sargent my mother cared for (Walter whose son was very upset when Elvis died locked himself in his room), until he was able to see the world again. He bought me a Bionic Man action figure. The arm fell off but I glued it back on. I wanted that Steve Austin action figure enough to voice that desire.

For my birthday that year my mother’s friends, Lupe and Yvette, bought me Star Wars action figures too.

I asked my mother why. She said: “Because you finally go outside”.

Now as I am housebound, except for short car rides and walks to the mailbox (with help and supervision), I am reminded of that boy.

The difference?

I am no longer afraid of what might be out there. Or what is in here.

I am not afraid.

I will not ring that bell.

I will not go quietly into any night, good or bad.