Avishai Sol

Ogre Garth was so ticked off he had to go downtown and eat a child. Walking down Fifth Avenue surrounded by tops of heads reminded Garth of the crowd he’d left at the firm, all smiling white faces guzzling shitty wine for Amanda’s birthday, or Sue’s birthday, Garth didn’t know. What he did know was that there had certainly been invites, and he did not receive one. It was the same situation with the Secret Santa project or the New Years party or the office fantasy football league. So now he walked the streets. Garth enjoyed the city, it was one of the few places he could blend in, become part of the throng. New York made Garth feel small; it gave him company, and space to spread out. Picking at the bit of corduroy still stuck in his teeth, Garth passed another hot dog stand. One of those big Greek carts where everything is large and drippy, and falls apart in your lap. Garth was also large, large and ugly, with loping arms and shoulders like a desk. Maybe that was why he thought, maybe that was why those scarecrows at the firm hadn’t invited him. Maybe because Garth’s pointed, bald, head always hit the doorframe on the way out of his cubical. Maybe because Garth’s voice matched his teeth, crooked, and bricklike, and black. Garth jammed his hands into his jacket and crumpled up the loose receipt tucked into the corner pocket. He threw it over his shoulder in the same loose wristed motion with which had been addressed with at the birthday party. Garth then gave a passing taxi a sarcastic little wave, mirroring the way a group of his cackling blond coworkers had ushered him out of the office. A pigeon flew overhead, gargling a low hoot. Ever since Garth was a little boy he had dreamed of eating a pigeon, though was yet to realize the ambition. Garth didn’t really have quick hands, and he was far too clever to go chasing pigeons down Fifth Avenue anyway. As he neared the Empire State building the street began to thicken. Garth waded through a river of heads catching a couple eyes, but they never stayed for long. Ducking slightly as he entered the rotating glass door, Garth emerged into the bustling foyer and proceeded to another line, then another. All the security folk knew Garth by now. His regular visits to the building had ensured Garth’s face was not one that the blue-coated men and women of the Empire State foyer would forget. Garth had been there so often that he knew many of the guards by name. He caught the eye of a new face as he passed under the metal detector. Pausing to read the guard’s nametag, Garth’s voice rumbled out in friendly greeting. “Good morning Ezra.” Ezra looked startled to be addressed by name and nodded jerkily in Garth’s direction, but said nothing. Garth wondered why he’d had wished Ezra a good morning, it wasn’t morning; it hadn’t been morning for a long time. Garth nodded at a couple more of the guards, none of them nodded back. Garth knew nearly all of them by name, but to the security staff Garth was just what he looked like, the lonely giant, with the black teeth. Garth always enjoyed the long elevator ride up. The many buttons on the spacious lift were entertaining enough, but combine that with the wide berth other riders gave Garth and the elevator became downright roomy. Perhaps it his intimidating stature that drove the people away, perhaps it was his stench. The lift would go four or so floors then stop, five more, sometimes as much as fourteen. Motion sickness was inevitable on a busy day like today. Garth did not enjoy all the stop and start, and took note of the gurgle in his stomach and the heat of the elevator. Garth stood in the left corner of the lift with his head inches away from the ceiling. Taking a sweeping glance around the room Garth heard a blowing noise to his right. Looking down to buttoned side of the lift, Garth watched a small brown skinned boy make explosion sounds as he smashed two toys together. Garth could smell him. The boy would swing one around his head making a whistling sound as he did, and then would slam the toy into the other, blowing spit out of his puckered mouth in a raspberry. Garth was fascinated. He followed the boy’s story with rapt attention, each clash was more violent then the last, each meeting of plastic combatants had more grit and determination then the one before it. After many doors and floors the boy finally smashed the toys together with enough force that one of their arms flew off. Garth gave a little gasp and clapped his hands together in delight, causing a few of the more distracted people in the lift to jump at the noise. Garth was treated to their sideways glances for the rest of the ride up but he didn’t care. What a finale, Garth thought to himself, as the boy was led out of the lift by his hairy-wristed mother. A few more floors passed in stop and start fashion. Garth farted. Garth decided on a whim to get off at 98 and walk the last few floors. The remaining few riders looked relieved to see the back of Garth’s neck crane through the double doors as they dinged open to let him out. Going three steps at a time, Garth was almost alone in the stairwell. A few ‘no exit signs’ and an occasional fire alarm lined the white drywall, but only the distant echo of squeaky shoes broke the quiet. Breathing through his teeth as the topmost platform came into view, the door swung open even before Garth could reach the push-pole handle. A young couple came blushing and giggling out from behind it. The girl’s face changed when she saw who was striding up the stairwell towards her and the smirking boy put his hand on her back as he ushered her past. Garth climbed the last few steps one at a time. The top of the Empire State Building was coated along the edges in young people, school field trips, and a camera wielding Korean tour group. Garth squinted in the glare reflecting off the Gatsby Enterprise building and blocked out the sun with his hand. Moving out from the doorway, Garth waded through the gaggle of Koreans to get a better view of the surrounding buildings. Craning over the edge he could see down to the sidewalk and the multi coloured grains of rice scurrying along below, each of them washed orange in the light from the Gatsby Enterprise. Garth wrapped his long fingers around his gizzard and leaned against the railing. He took a deep breath through his nose and blew out threw his protruding lips just like the boy had done. Just as he was about to try and hock a loogie over the edge of the building Garth heard woman shriek from behind him. Quickly swallowing his snot, Garth turned and looked to see the Korean tour group create a semi circle around two figures, one of who was in the middle of proposing. The two hugged as all the Korean women on the balcony simultaneously swooned. Camera clicks and laughing followed as staff emerged from inside the Empire State Building carrying bottles of wine and plastic cups. All of the school field trips converged on the wine despite their chaperones’ protests, the Korean tour group took turns congratulating the giggling fiancés and smiled and danced and drank and stayed at the Empire State building for much longer than their schedules said they would. It took Garth a minute to crack a smile; the movement made his cheeks creak. Watching the mismatched crowd sheepishly boogie across the Empire State balcony put a beat in his step. As the volume got adjusted his tap became a two-step, then a shuffle. It wasn’t until a peck of pigeons took off together off the railing that Garth hoisted himself off the railing and sprang into the crowd. Towering above the rest of the dancers, Garth couldn’t help but laugh as he slid and skipped across the concrete floor. He shot his black teeth around at everybody in the room and everyone smiled back. Garth danced with the rooftop crowd as long as anyone there, longer than the Korean tour group, longer than the fiancés. He bobbed around like a pigeon or a ball, catching child-flavored burps in the back of his throat.