Fiction From Fact

     In my quest to better my literary skills I decided to have some fun with creative writing. I have had plenty of near death experiences. The law of averages would suggest that I shouldn’t be alive. Ive written about three. Only one of the threeis factual. . Can you figure it out?

Happy hunting.

     Story 1: I was about 14 or 15 living in Central Islip. My uncle who's 2 yrs older than I and my sister decided to ride our bikes we had just recently stolen to the back of Mulvey elementary school. Behind it was one of those swamps that people shouldn’t have access to but cats keep cutting the fence open. What was a swamp area was now just a sandy area where people would ride their bikes. There was this one down ramp where we would go down to gain as much speed as we could. I went down this ramp on a bike that I don’t remember if it was stolen or not but I remember that it was old as feces. I began to ride down this hill at an amazing speed! I was coastin! Whoever was there were cheering on and what not. What was ahead of me that I didn't see were 3 small sand dunes. (Don’t ask how I missed them.) I go over the first two rather rough like. The third one sends me into the air. Into the air. I see the bike go ahead of me into the sky and I drift off the left of it. I remembered while in mid-air to do a roll when I land to minimize the injury and so I did. I did a tumble and came to a stop posing like a ninja who just jumped from a 5 story window running away from an assassination job. My uncle told me that the bike and I did a 360* in the air and then the bike went one way and I the other. I came close to breaking my neck that time.

     Story 2 : The day after we had a snow falling here in Long Island, I was working at the carwash. I was speaking with the Spanish folk who worked there. They were helping me pronounce my words en espanol. I can pretty decently but I can roll my r's the way they do. I can but I just have a different method is all. It was a slow part of the day and there were no cars so we were kind of standing in a circle. I was reading out of these Spanish words for the business traveler book (found in mi abuela's possessions) when the wind kicked up something fierce. I hate the muthafuckin' cold and I said literally "FUCK THIS!!!" And decided to go inside the building to stay warm until a car showed up and I can get my upselling commission. We didn't realize the significance at the time but we heard a big ass plane overhead. We couldn't see it due to the low-lying clouds but we heard it but we paid it no mind. So like I said I began to go inside and the circle we had began to dissipate. I didn’t take but 2 steps when I hear a loud as thunderous crash and feel shit hit me. I scream out "OH SHIT"!!! I likely sounded like a bona-fide bitch but I really don’t care. After running a bit I realize that what had fallen was a huge chunk of ice. More like a block. About the size of a small motorcycle engine. Now I had mentioned the plane because it was the logical assumption as to where the Ice came from as we could still hear it overhead passing us. Thank god I was wearing a thick ass coat cause the fragments and chunks whooped my ass bad enough. There was even a shard of ice that had pierced my jeans. It didn’t cut me but it effed up my knock-off Denim. The Ice Block landed exactly where I was standing.

     Story 3: I can remember as far back as 3 yrs old. I think I have a very vague memory of when I was 2. But that is a moot point. I used to live in Brooklyn at 96 Ridgewood and later at 268 Ridgewood if memory serves me correct. This was circa '83-'84. Mi abuela was bringing us home from Pre-k at Blessed Sacrament. Just a couple of block from home and we hear a car skidding with police in hot pursuit. The car literally crashes about 30-50 feet where mi abuela my sis, uncle and I were heading. A tall scraggly Z.Z. top looking mutha fucka decides ok. Lets have a shootout with the fuzz. So the man was buckin’ shots at them and the cops returned fire. There wasn’t the fear of lawsuits then so they did as they pleased pretty much. Now the guy was heading towards us. People were running and abuela tried to grab me but there was a mob running away from the shots as abuela was trying to get me and almost as if scripted she and my sis and uncle are being dragged away. I can still hear her screaming my name. I couldn't move an inch. I was petrified. Crying so much and so loud. I remember seeing the guy come closer to me and with each step he took to me the louder and harder I cried. Cops were just unloading. This kind-hearted man did the unthinkable. It was a Chinese food deliveryman on a bike. He saw me and ran to me to pull down and out of harms way. To be honest I don’t remember seeing him until I was on the ground with him covering my head and saying something in his native language. I remember he reeked of a strong odor, which I later in life learned to be shrimp. I never forget a smell. You see he covered my head because I was bleeding. As he pulled me down a bullet was coming for me and would have hit me square in the chest. Instead it grazed my forehead in-between my eyes almost tracing a slight arch by my right eyebrow. A scar I still have to this day. Those who know me see the scar on my face. It was like the matrix as in how close that bullet came to ending my life. I remember my head feeling hot as hell. I went home (no hospital). My mother and abuela told me not to go to sleep and wrapped my head in tons of gauze. I looked like a had on a turban They put some ice and a little bit of water in some sandwich bags and taped it shut and had it pressed against the gash and having my gauze turban hold it in place. If it weren’t for that deliveryman I would have died for certain.

Ok now. Tell me. Which one is the real McCoy and which is completely false? Story 1, 2, or 3.

                            This should be fun.

Douglas S. WIlliams