More Light--pg 3

The darkness continues for days. And the lights go out altogether. No more daylight hours. Meditation doesn’t do much to take me away, anymore. I’m too gripped with so little sleep, and I start hearing the screams while awake, or while I think I’m awake. Everyday I get a visit from Gabriel or Mike or the other dark-haired guard twice. They bring the MREs and don’t say a word. I wait and watch for the beautiful sight of the flashlight marching down the hallway. It’s the only light I know anymore.

From time to time, they haul a body down the corridor. From time to time, they a shot can be heard echoing through the halls. Moaning. Hysterical laughter. And the fucking screams.

I eat the MREs, gobble them down, without knowing what it is they’re supposed to be. Sometimes I taste what is surely supposed to be peanut butter, and there is the texture of processed meat, but very little individual tastes without seeing it.

Finally, I can see the flashlight getting brighter and brighter and I get ready for my one pleasure of the day, eating the beige-tasting food.

“Stand up,” Gabriel says. “You’re coming with me.”

We march past the cells, many empty, all smelling and dark. We get to his office, which is lit by a lantern.

“You remember the bus stop?” Gabriel says to me, sitting behind his desk.

“Yeah. Cold mornings. Dreading school. That bus stop?”

“You remember the day that The older kid was going to kick my ass? He said I looked at him dirty and he was going to kick my ass for it?”

“No.”

“You up and hit him. You don’t remember that?”

“Gabriel,” I say, “I can’t remember all the people I hit. My temper has ruled my life. It’s always come easy to me to hit someone.”

“Well, you hit this guy on this day.”

“It could have been you,” I say. “I could have easily taken his side and hit you, Gabriel.”

“You didn’t. He was the bigger guy and you hit him for me.”

“If you had been bigger, I’d have hit you.”

I can hardly see his face for all the shadows in the room. “Well, I never forgot it. I wanted to thank you.”

“No problem,” I say. “Can you tell me what’s going on yet?”

“Listen,” he says. “I’m going to ask you the same question I asked you last time. Do you want to live or not?”

“I don’t see why I should change my answer now,” I say.

“Okay,” he says and he starts to stand up.

“No, no,” I say. “You don’t just stand up and leave. You tell me what the hell is going on out there that it’s okay for us to suffer and die like this.”

“Are you losing your temper now?” he asks.

And, amazingly, I’m not. I’m not seeing red. I’m don’t feel my muscles quickening. I feel absolutely nothing. “No,” I say.

“I’m saving you by not telling you,” he says. And then he laughs a terrible half-cry. “I’m your fucking savior, now.”

“I’m coming with you?”

He shakes his head.

“For Christ’s sake, tell me, Gabriel.”

“I won’t. I won’t do it to you.”

“Nuclear war? An asteroid? The apocalypse? What the fuck is going on out there?”

“If that’s what you think, I want you to go on thinking that,” he says. “What is happening out there is millions of times worse than that.”

“Tell me.”

He bends down and bends towards me. He’s small, weak, frail, and I see the boy at the bus stop. I feel his breath right on my face, and he says quietly, “I’m saving you. I’m saving you by not telling you.”

Then he stands upright again, and I see the prison guard that he has become. “We’re not taking anyone. We’re leaving now. I can put you in the largest cell we have. I can give you the rest of the MREs. That’s all.”

“You can’t just let me the fuck go?”

“I told you,” he says. “I’m saving you by keeping you in here. I’m repaying the favor, now.”

“Will I live in here?”

He shakes his head. “Not long.”

“Why not let me go?”

“I’ll take you to your cell,” he says. “And I’ll ask the question one more time,” he says while he puts his hand on his gun.

“Don’t bother with that,” I say. “You know my answer. Just do something for me.”

“What?”

“Leave this lantern with me. I’m sick of being in the dark.”

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