Knockout by John Jodzio

on someone, while we discuss how this person is a bastard or how that one is nice.
    â€œI saw Cal with another woman,” I tell her. “A blonde. I heard Cal call her ‘honey’ and saw him slap her ass.”
    After I say this, I see Ellen’s eyes bulge a little, but she catches herself quickly, focuses them on a spot on the wall above my shoulder.
    â€œYou’re lying,” she says.
    â€œAsk him,” I say. “Just ask Cal and see what he says.”
    T he next morning, I go to the party supply store and I purchase two large helium tanks and a bunch of balloons. I roll all of this stuff over to Frankie in the park.
    â€œNo helium until later,” I tell him. “Okay?”
    Frankie nods. I walk back to my apartment building and kneel down in the bushes by the front stairs. The window of our apartment is open and I can hear my sister yelling at Cal.
    â€œHe says he saw you with her,” Ellen says. “He described her in detail.”
    â€œHe’s a liar,” Cal tells her. “He’s jealous of what we have. He wants you back and he wants me out of here.”
    â€œYou’re still seeing her, aren’t you?” she asks. “You said you weren’t but you just can’t stop.”
    There’s more yelling and then the door slams and Cal bursts out the front of our apartment building. I slide out of the bushes and walk up behind him with a two-by-four.
    â€œHey, Cal,” I say.
    Cal turns around to see who’s calling out his name and before he can lift his arms to protect himself, I swing the board and nail him on the temple and he crumples to the sidewalk.
    F rankie comes across the street with the wheelbarrow and we throw Cal inside and roll him over to the park.
    â€œWe’re all set,” Frankie says.
    I see the hundreds and hundreds of balloons that Frankie has blown up.
    â€œIs this going to work?” Frankie asks. “Is he too big?”
    We tie balloon bouquet after balloon bouquet onto the wheelbarrow. For a while we think it’s not going to work, that Cal’s too heavy, but soon he lurches a couple of inches off the ground. We tie one more bunch of balloons onto the wheelbarrow and then Cal lifts off, climbing up into the air, over the trees.
    I turn and look up at my apartment window. Ellen is standing there, looking down at us through her binoculars. I push the helium tank toward Frankie.
    â€œKnock yourself out,” I tell him.
    Frankie puts the nozzle from the helium tank up to his mouth and inhales.
    â€œYour turn,” he tells me.
    I wave him off, but he won’t take no for an answer.
    â€œAll right,” I say. “Just this once.”
    I take the nozzle from Frankie and put it up to my mouth. I take a deep breath in. I see Cal floating out over the city, higher and higher, heading out toward the ocean.
    Soon Ellen runs out of our apartment building, not using the cane, not wearing her sunglasses. When she gets close, I call out to her. I yell out to my sister in a voice that is my own but that is also much higher and much more fierce.

ACKERMAN IS SELLING HIS SEX CHAIR FOR TEN BUCKS

    I t’s a garage sale and Ackerman is selling his sex chair for ten bucks. It dangles from a beam in his garage. Underneath it there’s a set of cross-country skis and a bread maker. The sex chair is brown leather. I check the tag—it’s Swedish—very high quality. I inspect the various fucking holes—it’s in great shape, very gently used.
    â€œThat’s priced to sell,” Ackerman yells to me.
    I had a weekly thing with Ackerman’s wife, Elaine, before she died. Every Tuesday night we met at a motel and screwed. She kept telling me she was going to leave Ackerman, but she never did. One Tuesday Elaine didn’t show up at the motel and when I drove by her house a few days later I saw a hearse and a bunch of people dressed in black.
    â€œWhat happened?” I asked