Hanged Man

It all began the day the hanged man said 'Hello' to me.
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Back in those days I still lived at the church. I wasn't training to be a priest or anything of the sorts, to be honest it was far from it. I was only there since nobody else didn't care or didn't want to be burdened with the load and shame of being bestowed to the town orphan. It's because of that I was shoved into church under the watch of the ever present, Sister Caterina. It was Sister Caterina's self-imposed duty that she made me of my burden to her everyday, and fairly recently she has also tacked on new lectures about my neglecting the available work force for me. From the stories I've heard in town my father was much the same when he was my age. I guess that's where I get it from.

On that particular morning Sister Caterina was venting off her temper on me due to a lackluster mass service the day before. Apparently the prison had the 'audacity' to hang a man off the town bridge on the day of God. The whole town had made the hanging a spectacle, one of which the town has yet to eclipse to this day. It's a popular myth now that once the neck had cracked the champagne had been popped open. The hanged man himself had been invited to event hanging from the spot he had died. Sister Caterina had successfully screened the nature of the crime performed by me. In a further attempt in Sister Caterina's shielding she had forbade me to witness the hanging and had literally glued me to my seat during mass so that I could not escape that day. So it was on this morning that I was resolved to at least scavenge the remains of the dimmed spectacle.

After Sister Caterina's traditional mid-breakfast lecture I was sent to my room, as usual, to do my readings. Once in my room I managed to slither out of the window and down to the street as I had done many times before then. As I remember the weather had been fairly casual, but also rather dark in a seemingly foreboding manner. However I hadn't taken that into deep consideration for that was how weather had been like when I still lived at the church. It didn't take me long to reach the lot where the town had staged the spectacle. It was quite clear this was the spot; the ground was covered with littered garbage and food remnants. Above all the garbage was the man, still hanging off the bridge. It was once I had progressed slightly that the voice had come to me.

"Hello, boy! spoke the foreign voice. The voice had baffled me for I had gazed the plane of the lot several times without spotting a single soul. It was then that the voice had returned. "No silly boy! You should be quite aware that there is no one down there besides yourself. Now look up! And there above me was the hanged man gazing down at me with a queer smile plastered on his face. He was dressed in a regular attire and besides his queer smile on his face there was nothing abnormal about the hanged man. But in some way I was filled with a dreadful fear of the much ordinary hanged man.

"Y-You're supposed to be dead! I said to the hanged man.

"Silly boy are you blind? How could a dead man be talking?

"I-I¦I don't know¦B-But it shouldn't be possible for a hanged man to be talking as well

"All too true! You're a sharp one, boy! Now to clear up your jitters of my talking it would be rather nice of you to cut me down from my hanging

"B-But I don't know how to-

"Simple! Go up upon the bridge and cut the rope. That's it. Now go! spoke the hanged man. Entranced by fear of the hanging man I made quick to follow his orders, rushing to the top of the bridge by a pathway that started in the lot.

It was a short run from the path to edge of the bridge where the rope had been tied to the railing. At that time nobody went on the bridge. Not many people did. The bridge had never had any particular use; it didn't go over any water or hazard and such. In fact it would have been simpler just to put the road through the lot the man now hung above. The bridge was at the edge of town, a town in the middle of an industrial wasteland. Most people worked in town so they had no need to leave. That particular morning was no exception.

When I arrived at the knot on the railing I noticed that it was fairly loose, especially considering that it was holding a hanging man only fifteen feet below. I had no trouble undoing the knot. As soon as I let go off the last tangle the rope quickly slid from my hands, and the hanging man fell to the ground as fast as the rope slid. "Are you okay?! I said, my head leaning over the railing. Then quickly following the path down to the lot to where the no longer hanging man fell.

"Not a scratch, my boy! the man said soon getting onto his feet "I am quite fine. I truly appreciate you getting me down.

"No problem I said, feeling a part of my fear of the man slip away from me.

"Would you like to go for a walk with me boy?

"Sure. But wouldn't you like to first take off the rope from around your neck?

"This? the man said, holding up a part of the rope in his hand. "Sure. I don't foresee a problem with that. And so the man then removed the knot from his neck, much at the same ease in which I removed the knot from the bride railing. "Shall we go now then? The two of us slowly migrated out of the littered lot. "Quite the celebration they held for me, wasn't it?

"I wouldn't know, I wasn't there I said, looking around the lot. "But I'd assume so. The man remained quiet for quite some time after this. Once out of the lot we both started to walk towards the center of town. Neither of us spoke to one another and gave no contact to one another. Like the bridge the streets remained barren at that time most sleeping and recuperating from the exhaustive drinking yesterday. It was a while before the man spoke again.

"So, boy. What name do you have? he asked.

"A name? I said.

"Yes, a name. I'd assume most boys and others your age would most certainly have a name by now. And I'm quite curious to what yours might be so I can stop calling you 'boy.'

"Well you might as well continue calling me 'boy'. For I have no given name.

"Didn't your Ma' and Pa' give you one when you were younger?

"I had no such people to give me such things. I live at the church close to the bridge I said. "And Sister Caterina has no such desire in giving me a name. Much the same as you she calls me 'boy.'

"Oh. I see. Boy it is then! After that we continued walking in silence, continuing our invisible pact of no contact. We soon arrived at square where the market is usually held. The square also served as the main center of town. Still no one besides the man and I were out on the street. By now it was mid-morning and I was thinking how odd it was that still no one had wandered out on the street. By now some people had began to inhabit the streets. That really must have been some party after all. We walked into the center of the square and there the man just sat down. I was unsure if something was wrong with him so I asked.

"Of course not, Boy. I like sitting where I can. Can't a man sit where ever he wants? the man asked.

"I guess so I replied. "May I sit as well?

"Whatever you want, Boy the man said. I then sat with him on the ground. It was rough, bumpy, and hard, but it was always dirty. The city had always been too lazy and the citizens unrelenting to pay for new paving. The two of us sat there for a while before my grumbling stomach broke the silence.

"You hungry, Boy?"Just a little

"'Just a little' he says. Boy, you really are a funny one. Now let us get us some food! the man said. I then followed him outside of the bakery that was on the other side of the square. It was the only bakery in town since everyone so feasted on the delicacies of the butchers, who were plenty.

Still no one was out at on the streets. And now I was feeling that there was something wrong within the town. By now there surely be should be some people on the street. But there was not, and like all the rest the bakery was no exception.

"Meal time! he said.

"But they're closed right now I said."Not a worry, Boy! he said. "Not a worry! He then walked closer towards the bakery. Once he had reached the wall he then walked completely through the wall as if the wall had not existed, I was flabbergasted at the man's feat. Through the window I could see him go behind the counter and grab two loaves of bread. And then as easily as he went in through the wall he had come out of it. "Here you go, boy. Then he handed me one of the loaves, which I then took reluctantly and began to eat slowly.

"How did you do that anyway? I asked.

"Do what? he replied in question"Going through the wall. Oh that. It's a little trick I know he said. Unable to think of anything else to say I resumed eating. We both ate slowly remaining quiet from one another after that until both loaves of bread were gone. Still no one was out on the street. Then he spoke again. "Well I believe it time for me to take my leave.

"Leave?

"Yes.

"Where to?

"That is a secret, Boy he said. That was last thing I ever heard from the man ever again. He placed his hands on my shoulders then turned around and began to walk away from me. When I blinked and opened my eyes again the man was gone. Suddenly the square had become alive with people who were absent not a second before. I searched the square up and down trying to find where the man had gone, but I failed to find him. I even searched the bakery where he had earlier gotten the bread. The two loaves he grabbed were now in whole behind the counter. The same before the man had come to grab them. But I still felt quite filled from the piece I had just eaten.

I began to retrace the walk the two us had taken earlier. I searched alleys and shops, but again I failed to find the man. I eventually returned to the lot where he had been hanging earlier this morning. There he was, in the spot in which I had discovered him earlier. Hanging on the bridge above the littered lot. Bearing the same look he had brandished earlier, only that his queer smile had been replaced by a despaired frown. This time I felt no fear for the hanging man., quite the contrary. I felt as if I had earned respect for the man hanging beneath the bridge.

It was time for me to leave and I started to walk out of the lot. Before I left I made sure to get one last look at the moment. I was surprised to see what looked a smile in the place of the despaired frown I had just seen. I then walked off with my own smile on my face.