THE
DOMINO EFFECT
by Ella Draven
Danny could hardly contain his
excitement. His anticipation for this
day had been building for four months and now October 25th was here.
Danny and his three best friends, Marco, Sam, and Cesar, were loading up Marco’s
multi-colored Civic hatchback, just about ready to leave for Andalusia,
Alabama, for the World Championship Domino Tournament. The four friends had
gotten together many nights under many moons to talk, joke, and argue while playing
dominoes in Cesar’s garage. Danny and his boys had been friends since
elementary school, and they all looked so much alike—short, faded haircuts,
medium-brown skin, skinny builds with long arms and legs—that most people
thought they were brothers. They had attended the same schools all the way up
through high school, and even had their graduation pictures taken
together. They’d always said that they
would marry quadruplet girls and have one big wedding together; and Marco’s
mother even joked that their first children would probably all be born on the
same day.
There
were many times when Marco had given Danny rides to school, or when Sam had invited
him over for dinner when Danny’s parents didn’t make it home most nights, or
when Cesar had given him a place to crash when the drama got to be too much.
This was Danny’s opportunity to pay them back for all the times they’d been there
for him and made him feel like he was still a part of someone’s family instead
of an employee. Also, he felt the time had come to test their skills as
professional dominoes players—and to take a long-needed vacation from living
under the enormous shadow cast by an ever-present ghost.
Bobby,
Danny’s older brother, worked with their father, Roberto, for a small gardening
business. He was prized by his Danny’s parents, especially Roberto, for being
such a hard worker; even after dropping out of school at 15 to work full-time. Danny was the scholar of the family who
brought home good grades, art awards and special recognitions for his citizenship
and humanitarian services, but still felt like he lived in Bobby’s shadow. His mother Delia’s adoration was always just
out of reach-- while Bobby was greeted with smiles and affection every day
after work, Danny would come home to a sandwich on the table and Delia talking
on the phone. There was a huge dinner and celebration with aunts and uncles
when Bobby gained three new clients for the business, but only a handshake when
Danny graduated as the valedictorian for his middle school class. Although that
dark space in Danny’s sunlight was vast, he never felt anger towards his big
brother. He looked to Bobby as a hero just like any little brother would; he followed
him around, waiting for the chance to be
like Bobby.
During
the summer before his 15th birthday, Danny’s nubile curiosity led
him into sneaking out to follow Bobby and his girlfriend, Josie, to an abandoned
tract of land filled with trees. He wanted to scare them as he often did when Roberto
and Bobby came home from work every night. He climbed a large tree a few yards
from where Bobby and Josie lay, and quietly jumped from limb to limb until he found
one directly over the kissing lovers. As he made silent gagging faces while
they sucked face, what Danny discovered next wove a secret into his psyche that
froze his orbit of earth: the image of his big brother drawing a needle and a
tiny envelope, shimmering in the moonlight, from the utility pocket of his
green cargo shorts. In the dark Danny couldn’t make out what the envelope
contained, but when Josie tied a ribbon to Bobby’s arm while Bobby burned a
spoon with his lighter, the bright fire melted away Danny’s doubts into the clear
liquid. Bobby shot up into his arm with the needle and then, rolling up the
sleeve on Josie’s red shirt tight enough to serve as a tourniquet, and did the
same to her.
Danny
sat quietly on his bough above their heads as they slumped down, catching his
tears so they wouldn’t rain down over their euphoria. He watched as they did this 3 more times
during the night, until they’d both stopped moving. When it seemed like they’d fallen asleep,
Danny slowly climbed down and sat down Indian-style between the two lifeless
bodies holding hands. He turned to look
at their sinking faces, holding his hand over their mouths and feeling no
breath. He hugged his legs, allowing
his tears to saturate his dirty jeans, and looked up at the giant tree over
them. He saw their initials surrounded by a jagged heart carved into the tree:
RM+JC. Danny got up and punched the carving in the tree until his knuckles
bled, and kicked Josie’s corpse in the stomach, screaming, “I hate you! I hate
you! I hate you….”
Danny
worked every day the last six months running the business he helped build with Roberto
after he graduated from high school. Roberto, his father, lost his job with the
gardeners after his depression accelerated his drinking habits, so he began to
work for himself. Once Danny had joined the family business, he expanded beyond
gardening to full landscaping, and now had begun a new venture in brush and
tract clearing. An old friend of Roberto’s had thrown their names in for bid on
a contract with an up-and-coming Lamborghini dealership to clear tracts of land
for 3 locations. After winning the bid
and negotiating the deal, Danny hit pay dirt and could not only pay for all
their entries, but also a road trip from L.A. to Andalusia. Of course, he would
have to do much of the work since his Roberto was more interested in how many
bottles of Buchanan’s Scotch he could afford now with this big payoff. Roberto’s priorities of being a husband and
father had changed along with Delia’s, and now they would be much too busy with
feeding their ever-growing addictions.
When
Danny reached the final tract, he found that it was the open land where Bobby’s
tree was. The client had asked for this particular tract be cleared of all its
trees save for one—the tree with the carving of the initials. The eccentric client wished to keep it
because she valued the sentiment of such a carving and thought it would bring
good luck to her business. I wouldn’t bet
on that, Danny thought to himself.
When the clearing of the land was complete,
Danny reflected on the sole tree drooping with sorrow after having witnessed
all its brothers chopped down and thrown into the wood chipper. He noticed the
branches eerily swaying, as if to reach for their family’s remains, whose trunks
were piled and ready to be sold for firewood. Trees don’t have feelings, he thought. It’s my guilt for clearing such a beautiful space, and I’m tired as hell. My eyes are just
playing tricks on me. He ran his hand over the carving, remembering the sirens
and flashing lights, the gurneys and black bags, and the anguished weeping from
his mother. He felt the pulse of pressure in his foot when he recalled the
sandbag-impact of meeting his black Chuck Taylor shoe to Josie’s stiffening
gut. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate
you…” every syllable moved through his mind, and thumped the ball in his
throat to the rhythm. Good riddance.
Maybe this is the closure I need.
Goodbye
Bobby, he imparted to the tree one last time.
The
night Danny had told the boys about the tournament, he’d taken them all out to
dinner at El Tepeyac and ordered Manuel’s monster burritos and beers for
all. Marco had been surprised to see
Danny pick up the whole check and had asked what the deal was.
“Well
amigos, I have some news that will
finally get you all to shut your big trompas,”
Danny said proudly.
“What,”
Sam said with a smirk, “You found a viejita
who wants to make you her boy toy and leave you all her money when she dies?”
The other guys cackled in unison.
“No,
but I might find one in Andalusia, because that’s where we’re all going,” Danny
retorted, beaming with pride.
The
three friends all stopped laughing, and turned to stare at Danny. He pulled out
the tickets and paperwork for the tournament. They passed the papers around to
each other, each touching their names on the contracts like they were etched in
gold.
“Holy
shit, Danny!” Cesar finally responded, still in utter shock at the news. “How
the hell did you manage to pull this off…? Hold on… Is this why we haven’t seen
much of you throughout the summer?”
“Yup!
This is my gift to you all, and a chance to finally put your money where your
mouths are. Now, stop staring at me like you all want to make out with me, and
let’s celebrate!”
Before the celebration began, he had
them all sign their final contracts. The
following morning, Danny mailed out their paperwork. It’s official.
For the next few weeks, they spent
every night in Cesar’s garage playing dominoes and plotting their strategy.
When the day had finally arrived, the boys were loading up the tiny car when
Marco’s mother came out, her hands full with the lunch bags she prepared for
her boys. Danny’s mouth began to water
when he smelled the salt-seasoned aroma of the beans coming from his burritos
in the brown sack.
“Estan
listos, hijos?” she asked.
“Si,
Ma, we’re ready. You didn’t put garlic in mine, did you? Last time I bit
into the ajo, and my breath smelled
for a week,” Marco whined from under the hood of the car.
“That’s because you never brush your
teeth, cochino!” Sam yelled from the
backseat of the car, where he had been helping Cesar arrange their backpacks
and Igloo chillers so they’d all fit inside the car. After they had a good
laugh at Marco’s expense, and Marco’s mother had given them a bendicion for a safe trip, the four
friends piled into the car. The muffler
gruffly scraped the ground as they backed out of the driveway and, with a good-bye
honk and four skinny, brown hands waving from all windows, they were off.
A few hours later, the drive was
going better than Danny ever dreamed: they sang the songs they knew that came
from the fuzzy radio, and even began making up new lyrics to songs they didn’t
know or couldn’t hear over the buzzing.
Sam and Cesar sat in the backseat, planning their attack on the
tournament, while Marco drove and Danny navigated. The boys had previously
planned all the stops they would make along the way and were quite excited to
get to the first destination point: Tempe, AZ. They were making good time, had
just missed rush-hour traffic, and now the sun was beginning to set behind
them. Danny closed his eyes and leaned
back in his seat, relishing the wind hitting his face from the half-open
window. He took a deep breath of the dry
desert air and gazed out at the kaleidoscopic horizons of the oncoming Arizona
desert—such amazing hues of orange, blue, and purple skies, the robust browns,
reds, and grays of the desert, the brilliant yellow of the dead-end sign… Wait, dead end sign?
“Marco, STOP!” Danny yelled out, and
Marco slammed on the brakes. Sam and
Cesar, who had fallen asleep in the backseat, were suddenly jolted awake by the
sound of the tires screeching and nearly catapulted through the windshield.
“Danny, que te pasa, guey! What the hell is your problem? You almost made
me crash into the ditch!” Marco yelled,
still panicked at almost becoming the meat in a metal sandwich.
“Dude! You didn’t see that dead end
sign? You’re going the wrong way!” Danny shot back.
What dead end sign? We’re on a HIGH-WAY!”
Marco argued while he pulled over to the side of the road. “Look, pendejo—it says HIGH-W… Wait, where’s
the sign?”
They all jumped out of the car to look
around. Danny ran back to look at the sign post and was confused when there was
nothing posted on the sign. “What the hell is going on? This said ‘dead end’
before. Now it’s blank.”
Cesar, irritated by having been
awakened by near-death, ripped into Danny. “You’re supposed to be the
navigator! How did you miss Marco driving off the highway?”
“I didn’t drive off the highway! I haven’t
gotten off anywhere. This dumb-ass is seeing things, and he’s trying to get us
all killed!” Marco snapped back.
Danny’s head began to spin, and he
started to feel nauseous. “I SWEAR this sign said ‘dead end’… I don’t know
what’s going on, but I don’t feel so welllll…” He felt his face and hands grow
cold and, as his body crumpled and fell to the ground, the world turned white before
his eyes.
Brightness.
Where is everyone?
When Danny opened his eyes, he no
longer saw his friends, the road, or the car. He awoke on the most comfortable
bed he’d ever laid upon. He slowly
picked his head up from the cloud-like pillows and realized he was surrounded
by gray, murky water. He shot up all the
way in the bed, bewildered as he looked around. He was in a strange place, like a world he’d
seen on a Dodo episode of Looney Tunes.
The sky was a sick greenish-gray color, and his nose was swamped with the smell
of hot metal and garlic that came up from the water that gently rippled beneath
him.
“Where the hell am I?” he said out
loud, but there was no one around to answer him.
He swung his feet around and off of
the bed, and after feeling for solid ground between him and the low level of
water, he stood up. He began wandering
around, looking for the guys.
“Marco!”
No response.
“Sam!” Still nothing.
“Cesar!” Dead silence.
The ground began to slightly tremble
and the water, which had previously only been slightly rippling, began to turn
into larger waves, tossing around up to his knees. He held on to the bedpost to
keep from falling into the water. Once
the shaking died down a little and he gained his footing, he began wandering
around. He was scared to death of this foreign place, worried for his missing
friends, wanting to find someone—anyone—who could give him answers. Becoming
increasingly frustrated, he began yelling out into space at no one.
“Where am I? Is there anyone here?
What am I doing here! Someone please tell me what the fuck is going on! Can
anyone hear me! Answer me, God Dammit!” Danny’s throat began to tighten, around
the lump that formed. What will Delia think
if no one finds me? What about Roberto? Everything I worked for will be washed
away. I have to find a way out of here.
Suddenly, he heard the faint sound
of a woman’s voice singing a shrill tune and began running toward where he
thought it was coming from. With the
ground trembling under his feet and the sky beginning to turn red, he ran and
ran for what seemed like hours. He looked down and realized that the water began
to turn a dark blood-red in reflection of the sky. He gasped loudly and began to run faster. He
ran so fast he covered an extraordinary amount of ground in only a few minutes.
The ground stopped shaking, and the sudden stop nearly knocked Danny off his
feet. As he stopped to regain his balance, that’s when he saw the woman.
She levitated in the sky while lying
on an enormous clock with no hands. She had
long, black hair with pale grayish skin, and wore a red, sheer curtain over the
mid-portion of her body. She was still singing, softly and slowly, and Danny
inched closer to the red shadow her bed-clock cast on the swaying water. He
stretched his ears to try to figure out what she was singing, but he still couldn’t
make it out. As he drew closer, he began to make out the woman’s face. Josie?
“Josie!
What are you doing here? Why aren’t you dead?”
Josie didn’t seem to respond to
Danny’s questions; in fact, her song got louder.
“Excuse me,” he shouted, “I don’t
want to interrupt you but, can you tell me where I am, and how to get back to
my friends?” When she gave no sign that she’d heard him, he continued. “Can you hear me at all? Where’s Bobby? Tell
me!”
The volume rose louder, and louder,
till she hit a piercing note that stung his eardrums. Danny covered his ears and tried to run back
to the bed, but couldn’t find it. As he
went into full panic mode, with his breath beginning to run out and his heart
beating out of his chest, he looked back to see if he’d made any distance from
the screaming Josie, and SPLAT! He ran right into a giant tree. He fell on his
back and made a slapping splash in the bloody garlic water. He looked up at
what he had run into and immediately recognized Bobby’s tree from the newly-cleared
tract. As he gawked at the tree, it lowered its branches down around him
tightly and enveloped him until he was completely covered in its leaves. Now completely terrified, he knelt down in
the water, unable to run, his tears streaming from his fear-stricken face and
making ringlets in the small waves.
Danny turned to face the trunk and his face met with the carving right
in his face: RM+JC. Danny shrieked
out as loud as he could, and began scratching at the carving, ripping off the
bark piece-by-piece, yet the carving wouldn’t disappear. The vines enclosed him
tighter until he was pressed against the tree.
“God, please, get me out of here. I
swear, I will never kill another tree again, just please let me live. I don’t
want to die yet.” Danny wanted to close
his eyes but feared he would never wake up again, so he struggled to keep them
open while his vision blurred away. He began to feel faint and nauseous again,
and as he faded into darkness, he saw the blur of a pair of green shorts before
him.
“Bobby,
it’s dark. Help me. Am I dead?”
‘No,
you’re not. You have to go back, Danny. Take care of Mami and Pops. They need
you.’
“No!
I need you, Bobby! Please, come back…”
Danny
woke up again, this time to a slow beeping sound, and found himself in a
hospital room. He tried to get up, but felt detached from his body, and he couldn’t
move an inch. He looked around, and
realized his head hadn’t moved, just his eyes. He smelled the familiar scent of
perfume, beer, and grass. I’m Home,
he thought. He inched his eyes over
to the corners as much as he could, and saw Delia sleeping on a cot next to
him, while Roberto was snoring, with his head tilting way back, in a chair.
Danny wanted to get their attention, but couldn’t talk or move. He tried to
wiggle around, to get something to move, but nothing was working.
An elderly doctor walked into his
room, and gently tapped Roberto on the shoulder. He woke with a jolt and a long snort, and then
leaned over to wake Delia. He could only
hear muffled words from the doctor, as if he was speaking through a wall. He tried
screaming out, but he could only hear his words in his head. I’m here! I’m alive! Look, my eyes are open.
Look at me!
Delia began to cry, and Roberto
wrapped his arms around her. The doctor walked over to the side of the bed, and
began reading a metal clipboard hanging from his bed. He desperately tried to move a finger, a toe,
his nose, anything. Why can’t he see that
my eyes are open?
The
doctor scribbled something down on the clipboard, and laid it on Danny’s lap while
he felt his legs. Danny began to really panic when he could see the doctor touching
him, but couldn’t feel anything. When he finally accepted that he could not
move, he diverted his eyes to the clipboard on his lap. He read the underlined
words that the diagnosis sheet screamed from the metal clipboard:
Quadriplegia:
severe damage to cervical spinal column. Concussion. Sole survivor of highway
accident. Prognosis: unclear.
Delia sat beside Danny and held his
hand between hers and wept. I can feel
that! Danny thought to himself. This
isn’t permanent! I am going to make it...
“You
hear me, Bobby? I’m going to make it!”
