Another one

Talus woke to the sound of sirens. Looking out his window he realized that the commotion was caused by another jumper. Someone, yet again, thinks he/she can fly. Sometimes Talus wondered if Castle apartments mysteriously drew people to it. Come, my sick, my weary, my suffering and climb my stairs, step onto the platform of transformation and life! Twice, Talus actually witnessed the attempted flight. The first was when he was eight. He had just rounded the corner with his grandmother. They came from the subway after Talus's violin lesson. His mother didn't see them as she stood looking-up into the sky. She stepped forward as if she was stepping onto a train that Talus had seen her do a thousand times. And then she was gone. His grandmother, torn between running to see about her daughter and keeping Talus from seeing her, stood for a moment frozen. Talus took her hand and pulled her forward. She looked at him, told him to stand next to the fruit stalls at the corner grocery and not move. He watched her hurry toward the crowd. Talus sat on a crate and took out his violin. It was his mother's when she played. He started playing, not paying attention to the song or the people who looked curiously toward him. They were drawn by the music and the crowd. Talus notes hung heavy above him. The grocer came out, saw the scene, asked a bystander about the crowd, and then looked at Talus. He stood listening for a moment. Then sat on a crate next to Talus.