Cyberpunk

When I went outside, there was another long line.
    Now I’m sitting in my apartment, crying, and thinking about my father. He died when I was four. I remember his wake. I remember crossing my arms over my chest and not letting anyone hug me. Everyone tried. I remember being bored and mad. I remember trying to hide under the casket presentation. An uncle that I’d never met before pulled me out of the mini-curtains below the casket. He pulled too hard on my arm and I cried. I think my tears were the equivalent of the four-year-old me saying fuck heaven, I want my daddy back, and I don’t want to die .
    I’ve turned off comments for this post. I’ve posted, and deleted, and then re-posted this a few times. I’m going to leave it up and as is. But no one else gets to say anything about Grant or me or anything today.
Grant Lee, RIP
    Becca Gilman • May 10th, 20__
    It finally happened. A very close friend of mine, Grant Lee, died two days ago. He was twenty-four. I have been unable to get much information from his family. I talked to his older sister, Claire. Grant died at work, at the Pizza Joint, two blocks from my apartment. She said his death was sudden and “catastrophic.” I asked if he died from an aneurysm. Claire said the doctors told the family it was likely heart failure, but they wouldn’t tell them anything specific. I then asked for information about the hospital he went to, but she rushed me off the phone, saying she had too many calls to make. I called the Pizza Joint, wanting to talk to the co-worker who had found Grant dead, but no one answered the phone. I’m going to take a walk down there after I post this. It’s awful and terrifying enough that Grant died, but it looks like his cause of death will be covered up as well.
    I met Grant in a video store a week after I’d moved to Brooklyn. We rented Nintendo Wii games and old noir flicks together. Grant ate ice cream with a fork. He always wore a white tee shirt under another shirt, even if the other shirt was another white tee shirt. Grant was tall, and slight of build, but very fast, and elegant when he moved. I’d never seen him stumble or fall down. He worked long hours at the Pizza Joint, trying to pay off the final four grand of tuition he owed NYU so he could get his diploma. That debt wasn’t Grant’s fault. His father was a gambler and couldn’t pay that final tab. Grant had a crooked smile and he only trusted a few of his friends. I think he trusted me. Grant liked to swear a lot. He liked fucking with the Pizza Joint customers whenever he could. Sometimes he’d greet an obnoxious-looking customer with silence and head nods only. Invariably, the obnoxious-looking customer would talk slow and loud because they assumed Grant (who was Korean) didn’t speak English. They’d mumble exasperated stuff under their breath when Grant didn’t respond. Finally, he’d give the customer their pizza and make some comment like, “You gonna eat all that? You leavin’ town or somethin’?” and his voice was loud and had that thick Long Island accent of his. Grant drank orange soda all day long. Grant would be too quick to tease sometimes, but he always gave me an unqualified apology if I needed one.
    Grant was more than a collection of eccentricities or character traits, but that is what he’s been reduced to. I love you and miss you, Grant.
4 Responses to “Grant Lee, RIP”
    Jenn Parker says:
    May 10th, 20__ at 4:47 pm
    If you are telling the truth (sorry to sound so callous, but I don’t know you, and given your blogging history, your agenda, it’s entirely plausible you are making this up to bolster your position, as it were), I’m very sorry for your loss.
    I don’t know what to believe though. Look at your first sentence: It finally happened. Maybe this is just a throwaway phrase written while in the throws of grief, however it seems like an odd line to lead your post. It finally happened. It sounds like not only were you anticipating such an event, but are welcoming it so your version of reality could somehow be verified.
    I find it impossible to believe that doctors would give the family of the deceased no cause of death, or a fraudulent cause of death as you are implying. To what benefit or end would such a practice serve?
    And please see and respond to the links and aneurysm statistics I quoted in your earlier post .
    squirrelmonkey says:
    May 10th, 20__ at 7:13 pm
    I’m so, so sorry to hear this, Becca. Poor