SOMETIMES FOR HANDBALL

By Ben Greenman

from forthcoming collection, as yet untitled

Leo Perry came yesterday to Cants Hill to charm John Reeves, the owner and proprietor of the local garage, into fixing his car for free. Perry stated that he was driving yesterday through the winding roads of the Playborne Heights area when a child whose age he estimated at eight darted out from a copse of trees directly into the path of his automobile. He swerved up onto a curb and damaged one of his axles. Perry, who allowed his insurance to lapse two months ago and consequently is fully liable for all damages to his vehicle, carried a letter that contained an emotional appeal. “Mr. Reeves,” it read, “what if the child in the street had been your child? What if the man in the car had not been me? I can imagine a situation when you would not be here today to read this, because your world would have been shattered to such a degree that you would not have been able to rouse yourself from your bed and make your way into work. And as that would have been a far poorer world for you, I implore you not to make this a poorer world for me. Wretched as each individual life may be, it can be elevated by a moment, and a humanity that doubts that abdicates the possibility of redemption from despair. Modern man suffers from the absurdity of the world. Moments that turn away from that absurdity by wrenching the wheel suddenly should be preserved and protected.” The letter had been written not by Perry, but by Henry Arrup, the Nobel laureate, whose daughter had once dated Perry and who remained a close friend, sometimes for handball. Reeves, who had already decided to repair the car for free, took the letter and threw it out without reading it.