‘Hole’ by Andrew Porter

Hole by Andrew Porter, 2008

The magic trick:

Surprising the reader with a late pivot toward considerations of memory

We’re doing a weekend double of Andrew Porter, who has written two excellent story collections this century, separated by nearly 15 years.

The SSMT-featured stories this weekend are companion pieces of a sort. “Hole,” is the first story in Porter’s award-winning 2008 debut The Theory Of Light And Matter. Tomorrow’s feature, “The Disappeared,” is the final story in Porter’s 2023 collection of the same name. So there is some nice symmetry there. But even more than that, both stories share the same dramatic, fatalistic opening, in which the first-person narrator tells us about the last time he ever saw his best friend. The stories go in different directions and aim for different effects from there. But it’s an interesting common thread to pull.

In “Hole,” the story is tense and gripping and tragic. The narrator shares exactly what happened the day his friend dies. It’s awful. Where the story really takes off, though, is near the end, when suddenly it’s clear that this is a story about memory as much as it is loss or grief. The narrator begins to get fuzzy with specifics when he gets to the part of the story about his role in the tragedy. Is he really not sure? Is he lying to himself? Is he lying to us? Or has the lifetime of grief and guilt since his friend’s death left him feeling so broken up about it all that it doesn’t even matter what specific parts of his memory are true?

These are questions the story leaves you asking, which – because it’s great literature and literature is great – soon find you asking yourself similarly harrowing questions about your own past.

And that’s quite a trick on Porter’s part.

The selection:

The hole was at the end of Tal Walker’s driveway. It’s paved over now. But twelve summers ago Tal climbed into it and never came up again.

Weeks afterward, my mother would hug me for no reason, pulling me tight against her each time I left the house and later, at night, before I went to bed, she’d run her fingers through the bristles of my crew cut and lean close to me, whispering my name.

As always, join the conversation in the comments section below, on SSMT Facebook or on Twitter @ShortStoryMT.

Subscribe to the Short Story Magic Tricks Monthly Newsletter to get the latest short story news, contests and fun.