We Would Have Been Safe

I grabbed the flashlight from my backpack and aimed it at the book. I saw maps and drawings, pictures from magazines and newspapers and the Internet, pictures I'd taken with Grandpa's camera. The whole world was in there. Finally, I found the pictures of the falling body.

Was it Dad?

Maybe.

Whoever it was, it was somebody.

I ripped the pages out of the book.

I reversed the order so the last one was first, and the first was last.

When I flipped through them, it looked like the man was floating up through the sky.

And if I'd had more pictures, he would've flown through a window, back into the building, and the smoke would've poured into the hole that the plane was about to come out of.

Dad would've left his messages backward, until the machine was empty, and the plane would've flown backward away from him, all the way to Boston.

He would've taken the elevator to the street and pressed the button for the top floor.

He would've walked backward to the subway, and the subway would've gone backward through the tunnel, back to our stop. Dad would've gone backward through the turnstile, then swiped his Metrocard backward, then walked home backward as he read the New York Times from right to left.

He would've spit coffee into his mug, unbrushed his teeth, and put hair on his face with a razor.

He would've gotten back into bed, the alarm would've run backward, he would've dreamt backward.

Then he would've gotten up again at the end of the night before the worst day.

He would've walked backward to my room, whistling “I am the Walrus” backward.

He would've gotten into bed with me.

We would've looked at the stars on my ceiling, which would've pulled back their light from our eyes.

I'd have said “Nothing” backward.

He'd have said “Yeah, buddy?” backward.

I'd have said “Dad?” backward, which would have sounded the same as “Dad” forward.

He would have told me the story of the Sixth Borough, from the voice in the can at the end to the beginning, from “I love you” to “Once upon a time. . .”

We would have been safe.

(note: my scanner wasn't working properly and so the picture of my drawing makes it look much worse than it actually is)

My illustration shows Oskar's book, exploding out a dream of the falling man being lifted by a flock of birds (even without a birdseed shirt) back up into the air, back into the tower, like he wished his father could have done. The outline of the dream is the lyrics to the song "I am the Walrus" backward.

I chose this passage because it is the final message of the novel and the reader gets to see Oskar's innermost feelings. It's one of the passages that stuck with me after I put the book down.

There are many times in which a similar scenario plays in my head. I lost my father, like Oskar (although not nearly in the same way) and I often think about how I could just go back in time, reverse everything, and try to make it work again. Unlike Oskar, I don't remember my worst day at all. I never knew what it was like before he passed away, but I just knew that something went wrong in order for this disaster to happen. I often imagine different scenarios about what could have happened and how my life could be different, but the past doesn't change, and we have to eventually move on.