The Room (6 page)

Q
. They put you in solitary?

A
. Well, no, not exactly. That is, it was not what the others refer to as the hole. But I was locked in a 9 x 6 cell in the t.b. suspect section of the jail.

Q
. That sounds very uncomfortable.

A
. To say the least (smiling) Its quite an experience to be locked up all by yourself in any size room, no less a little cell. But I managed to survive (looking around the room at the others) and here I am.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling, still seeing the look of complete and absolute approval on the faces of Donald Preston and Stacey Lowry. He swung his body up and around and sat on the edge of the bed nodding his head slightly from time to time and feeling contented.

He got up and went to the sink. He looked in the mirror and stretched the skin around the pimple. He squeezed it gently then touched it with the tip of a finger. It seemed to be a little more tender than the last time he touched it. But it still wasnt ready. He went back to the bed. He stared at the wall creating images with the cracks. He lay on his back and shielded his eyes from the light with his arm.

He was indignant when the cops put him in the car and demanded to be allowed to call his attorney as soon as they arrived at the police station. He called Stacey and told him what had happened and then refused to say a word until Stacey arrived. They conferred briefly then Stacey went to the Captains office and demanded that his client – friend – be released immediately. The Captain told him he couldnt do that, that only the courts could release him. And anyway, I dont even know what the situation is or why the man has been brought in. Stacey told him he did not care what the Captain knew or did not know about the circumstances, that he was a friend of Staceys for many years and he knew he was an honest man and that it was ridiculous to arrest him on suspicion for simply standing on a street corner. When the Captain repeated what he had previously stated, Stacey called the Police Commissioner and explained the situation. The commissioner spoke to the captain and in a few minutes they were in Staceys car.

I am sorry I had to bother you Stace, but I did not know what else to do.

That is perfectly all right. After all, that is what friends are for. I would have been highly insulted if you had not called.

Well, anyway, thanks, slapping him lightly on the back.

You know, I was really surprised to hear your voice. I thought you were not getting into town until tomorrow.

Well, I did not expect to, but I got an early start and made good time. I got in town a few hours ago.

Then you can come over the house tomorrow night for dinner.

I am looking forward to it. It has been a long time.

I bet the kids have grown.

Grown? You will not recognize them.

They both smiled and continued to his hotel.

He stirred slightly, adjusting his body to a new position, smiling contentedly.

After the commissioner ordered his release he conferred with Stace about having the 2 arresting officers reprimanded in some manner. You see Stace, it is not that I want to be vindictive, but I would like to see them be more careful in the future. It is not right to allow them to do such things. If they can do it to me they can do it to anyone – and probably have. You understand.

Completely. You know how I have always been fighting injustices of all nature – just as yourself – and especially the misuse of authority.

They went to the captains office. He asked the captain if he could speak to the 2 officers. He could see by their faces that they were worried and he felt a slight twinge of joy inside him. He told them that he had no intention of pressing charges or taking any form of official or formal action, but that they should be more careful in the future. There are times when overzealousness can be just as dangerous as dereliction of duty.

When he and Stace left the office the 2 officers were still standing in front of the captains desk looking extremely worried, the captain upset and angry. The door had been closed many seconds before he started to speak. Whats the matter with you assholes? You trying to have me kicked off the force, or put out in the sticks someplace? You have to be a first-class imbecile to arrest a friend of Stacey Lowry that way. But we didnt know – then youd better learn, pounding the desk, his red face thrust at theirs, and real fast. You ever cause the commissioner to get on my back again I/ll throw
your
ass in a cell. Now get the fuck out of here.

He put his arm even tighter against his eyes so he could see their faces more clearly. The red of embarrassment turned to a white of fear and panic. The joy surging through his body was so intense his throat constricted and he sat up as he started coughing. He sat on the edge of the bed trying to restrain the image of those
frightened faces, his anger increasing as the coughing continued to destroy the image. Eventually the coughing subsided and he lay down and tried to bring the faces back, and though they were blurred, he could see enough of them to allow the pleasure to once again flow through his body, but then he started coughing again and the beautiful scene dissolved.

He sat on the bed, back against the wall, his body still tingling with the feeling of joy. He glowed as he watched the startled look increase and increase on the captains face as he listened to the commissioner; and the look of utter and complete rage as he yelled at the 2 cops.

Even after he opened his eyes and stared at the cracked, gray wall he continued to feel good for many minutes. Then the cracks became closer and larger, as did the walls.

He got up and started pacing. He looked at his feet and the floor as he carefully paced from wall to door (step on a crack and break your mothers back) and door to wall. For a time he was void of feeling, then slowly his body tightened with anger. He stared into the mirror for a moment then continued his careful pacing. It was a stupid game. Dont know why in the hell we ever played it. Hopping all over the goddamn street. Wonder if we ever believed it?    Balls.

He sat on the bed and covered his eyes with his hands.

The officers looked concerned and frightened as he chastised them and they were visibly shaking as they left the captains office and the captains face blew up with rage as he laid down the law to the 2 cops and then had a wonderful evening with Stace and his family before everything blurred with light and he got up and started pacing again.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, the door. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, the wall. 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and 5 and 6 and the door – glance through the little window – no one, nothing, just walls and floors. 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and 5 – almost took too short a step, lengthen final stride – and 6. Back and forth. Back and forth. Forth and back. Count the goddamn steps from the fucking
wall to the sonofabitching door. Again and again. Make sure each foot falls in the proper place in each direction. Keep in own footprints. Dont vary. Always the same. Just like everything else is the same. Always gotta bug ya. 1 step and 2 steps; a tick and a tock. Back and forth, a tick and a tock. Dont step on a crack, youll break your mothers back. I/ll fix them when I get out. I/ll fixem all. Even that sonofabitch that broke my hand. Someday I/ll even get him. I/ll wrap his fucking club around his head. Who does he think hes fucking with the rotten mothafucka. And those other 2 pricks. I/ll getem kicked off the force. You bet ya sweet ass I will. Cant fuck with me.

He stopped pacing and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment before stretching out and covering his eyes with an arm. He had to wait for the beating of his heart to slow before the image could form.

He was playing catch with a few friends in the alley behind the apartment houses. Angelo came over to him with his 2 older brothers and said he hadda fightim. What for. I doan wanna fightya. Whats amatta, ya afraid to fight my brudda? Na, Im not ascared. I just doan wanna. Aaaa, youre yella. Wont even fight a guy thats smalla thanim. Yeah, but hes oldern me. Hes 9. So what? Hes still smaller. Ah, go on. Youre ascared. Yeah, hes a mommas boy. I aint not. I AINT NOT! Ha, ha, hes a mommas boy. Ha, ha, hes a mommas boy. I aint. I AINT!

They continued to chant as they formed a ring, Angelo standing in the middle as he continued to back away screaming he wasnt afraid. The others kept shoving him forward as he stumbled away, face red and tears forming in his eyes. Finally Angelo hit him and he screamed and lunged at Angelo, his arms flailing, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were granite white. Angelo couldnt recover or repulse the sudden rush. Angelo fell down and he fell on top of him, still screaming furiously. He was dragged off, only fighting for a few seconds against the restraining grips. When he stopped resisting he felt weak and was almost happy he was being held. He stood like that for many moments while Angelos 2 older brothers inspected red puffs on Angelos face.

Look whatcha did? Yeah, ya giveim a shiner. We just wanted to box a little. Ya didnt have to hitim so hard. Ya no good hittin a guy thats smaller thanya …

the voices and jeers continued, but he no longer understood the words. He broke free and ran home, crying. When his mother opened the door he ran past her and into his room and fell on his bed. His mother quickly followed him and sat on the bed beside him and put her arms around him and rocked him back and forth listening to his sobs. Its all right son. Dont cry. Mothers here. Mother will always be here.

He removed his arm and allowed the light to filter through his closed eyelids. He opened his eyes then sat up on the bed. He stared in front of him for many minutes then smiled slightly. They just shouldnt have pushed me. But I sure did teach them a lesson. Cant fuck with me.

Then the smile started to broaden as an excitement started to build up within him. Then he heard the door clang open and a voice yell, chow time.

He was almost oblivious to his surroundings, the clanging of metal trays, the babble of voices. He was aware of eating, but not the taste of the food. He stayed in the mess hall as long as possible, savoring not the food, but the feeling within him.

He sat on his bed after having walked slowly from the mess hall. He heard the door clang shut and the grinding of the lock as the bolt was shot, but it didnt bother him right now. Now he had something to look forward to. A dessert of sorts. He would sit and enjoy the anticipation as long as possible. It felt good. So good he could taste it. He waited and waited, the excitement and enjoyment almost painful. Yet still he waited. And the pleasure increased until it was almost critical.

He luxuriously lowered himself on the bed and put an arm over his eyes.

He was standing on the street corner looking up and down the avenue and street. Which way to go? Which way to go? Think I/ll stroll up the avenue. Can I see your i.d. 2 officers behind him. Hard hats glowing from faint street light. (no. no.) Hey buddy, what are you doin here. The cops had a hard scowl on their faces. Nothing. Just looking around. I am afraid I am lost. Lost? Dont give me that shit. Well, it is the truth. I just got into town and went for a walk and I do not know how to get back to my hotel. Cant you think of a better story than that? Lets see your i.d. – get against the wall. He was shoved hard against the wall. Now see here officer, I am not doing anything and you have no right to do this to me. O, we dont? We/ll show you what rights we have. The back of a hand against his head. Are you crazy or something? You cannot do that. I know my rights. Listen wizeass, you do like youre told or we/ll split your goddamn skull open. I am advising you against hitting me again. Hit you, we/ll kill you. 1 of the officers reached for his gun and he suddenly hit them both on the side of the head with open hands, their hard hats clanging loudly in the night. Their eyes rolled and the gun fell from the officers hand. He banged their heads together again then took their helmets off before thudding their heads together once more. He stepped back and calmly watched them crumble to the ground. He then put them in their car and strolled away. Yeah      hahahahahaha      thats the way to do it. Wonder what they would think when they came to. Bet they wouldnt fuck with me if I ever met them again. Just slam them around.

Riding the subway during rush hour. Morning. Lousy mood. A lousy weekend. Crowds all jamming and pushing. Smells of newspapers, clothes, breath and bodies. Woman with 2 large bundles standing by the door. She has scraggly hair and lumpy clothes. Shes stained and has large, hairy moles on face. Looks like she stinks. An old guttersnipe. Wont move when people want to get off or on. Like she owns the goddamn subway or something. Have to squeeze past her. Shes big. Heavy. Repulsive. Should at least stamp on her foot. Kick her shin. Still there when he wants to get off. He body checks her as hard as possible. Shes propelled from doorway. Hits the wall of the station. Bundles fly from cruddy arms and contents are strewn on platform. He smiles as he walks away

he watches her bounce off the wall and fall to the ground. Makes believe he stumbles over her. Steps, hard, on ankle. Falls and knee hits her in stomach. Hand hits her throat. Adams apple. Presses hard on stomach and chest when he gets up. Shakes head sorrowfully. Sorry. Aglow inside.

When the cop drew his gun he chopped him hard on the wrist with his hand, and with almost the same motion he kicked the other one in the groin. Even before the gun hit the ground he hit the first one on the back of the neck and he fell to the ground, then the other as he was curled in a fetal position holding his stomach. Just a few karate chops and it was all over. He leisurely put them back in their car and looked at them for a moment then took their badges and guns. Walked to the corner and dropped them down a sewer. He strolled away, his grin wide.

His grin was still complete as he lay on his bed, his knees bent and legs crossed. Let them explain that to the captain. Yeah. Especially when they dont answer their radio.

It was an all-car alert. A gun fight with robbery suspects just a few minutes from the corner where the 2 officers were slumped, unconscious, in their car. Their number was blasted from the radio over and over. 1 officer killed. 3 wounded. Assist
immediately. Repeat. 1 dead. 3 wounded. Assist immediately. Repeat. Assist immediately. Please respond. Please respond. Pleas unheard as they remained slumped in the car. Still unconscious, badgeless and gunless. Pleas from radio roaring down the street. When questioned about failure to respond they were afraid to tell the truth. Eventually they were forced to stammer and stutter the truth, but their story was not believed. They were loathed and despised by their brother officers. The heros funeral of the officer killed that night was covered by the television and radio networks, and many times during that day, and the days that followed, reference was made to the 2 officers who were only a few blocks away at the time of the killing, but did not respond to the pleas for help. They were suspended and allowed to resign from the department. Their faces and story were known everywhere they went. Silence and disgust greeted them when they applied for jobs and when they got home at night. Their wives were ashamed to go to the store. Their kids had to leave school. Soon their families left them, unable to bear the burden of shame. The ex-cops finally disappeared and the story forgotten until the body of one is found, slightly decomposed, in a junkyard.