Squirrel Hill

Trees of Life, Liberty, and Social Death

Abstract

The danger zone is everywhere, but not in my neighborhood.

That’s how I saw it when I put Carter’s Halloween costume together. He was twelve and wanted to be the Punisher from the comic books, movies, and streaming shows. Black cargo pants, store-bought Punisher t-shirt like the one in my closet, Goodwill mid-length black leather jacket, remarkably similar the one the Punisher “really” wears, except that it was a woman’s coat. Carter didn’t notice that the buttons were on the wrong side. He’d have refused it had he understood.

Blackened his hair with spray, gave him a five-o’-clock shadow with makeup and then filled the holsters I made to accompany the previous year’s Deadpool costume. Dollar Store armaments: .357 magnum under his left arm, .50 Caliber Desert Eagles on each thigh, KA-BAR USMC Straight Edge on his right calf. Even fashioned him a black bulletproof vest with a white skull spray-painted on it that looked just like the one Jon Bernthal has on the TV show, but he wouldn’t wear it because he could see traces of its previous incarnation as body armor from his brother’s Batman costume. He’s always been so particular about his costumes, it’s very frustrating, but whatever, he’s the one wearing a girl’s jacket.