by Marc Horn
‘Course she’s safe, ’cause you’re in here.’ It is Hallam’s voice. I ignore him. ‘She ain’t got your shit in her head no more.’
‘Is that a fact?’
‘Yeah, it is. She’s been on telly. She’s recovered.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘You will.’
Footsteps. He is walking away. I have to be strong. I have to resist his evil. But he touches a nerve with Elizabeth. Anything other than Elizabeth and I am fine. But I know he will not stop unless I convince him that I do not care. I must keep my insecurities to myself.
About two hours must have passed when Hallam drops something in front of me.
‘This was in the freak’s mailbox.’
I hide my reaction as best I can, but I am certain he must have heard the start of my gasp. Elizabeth? Is it from Elizabeth? It must be! It surprises me that I have not been inundated with mail from many people. In fact, if I am honest, I am very disappointed about this. Had I been asked weeks ago to identify the source of my mail at this point in time, I would have said with utter certainty that it would be an impossible task due to its sheer volume. Now though, presented with one letter, I am sure, and I hope, that it is from Elizabeth. I slide my finger beneath the flap and carefully tear open the top of the envelope.
‘Seems you’re not the only sick fuck around,’ Hallam rasps.
I slide my fingers across the paper.
‘Regret cutting your eyes out now, do ya?’
I remain strong, visibly anyway, keeping my head rigid and facing forwards. ‘No I don’t, Hallam. Neither do I care what this person has to say. This author is in turmoil and he chooses to deal with it by chastising others.’
‘And what have you got? A sick fanbase?’ His voice is urgent, loaded with anger. ‘All you fucking freaks should be hung!’
It is true that when one sense is missing the others are more responsive. The senses are extraordinarily powerful. Synaesthesia is a condition where sensory messages are mixed. A sufferer may smell what he sees and taste the words he reads. We all receive information somehow. I can read sounds now, and Hallam’s hatred is clear, as is his pain. ‘I would like to see the senior officer,’ I say. Anyone relevant to my cause and me would write to me in Braille, not pen.
‘I am the senior officer. You got a problem?’ He is in my face again, looking for an excuse to strike me.
‘I have a problem with Hallam. I think he is dishonest.’
‘You got proof, freak?’
His chest touches my ribcage and his breaths are hard and fast. I feel no fear. To the contrary I feel his. ‘Speak to the postman,’ I say.
I crash into the wall a few feet behind me, but manage to stay on my feet. I grab Hallam’s hands, not to retaliate, but to feel him. He screams at me as I clamp my left hand around his wrists and then pat his body with my right. ‘You are a small man,’ I say and then collapse to the floor as my knees buckle. I am then subjected to a barrage of kicks. I spread out my arms to my sides, allowing Hallam free access to my vulnerable points. He stops and does not take advantage of this. He is out of breath.
‘You are-you are fucking nuts,’ he says. ‘You’re a masochist, that’s all you are. You mutilated yourself ’cause you like the pain!’ Deep breaths. ‘I ain’t gonna satisfy you no more, freak.’
‘I don’t like pain, Hallam. But it is your lifeline.’
His foot presses against my ribs. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
‘Pain is your air, Hallam. You wear your insecurities wherever you go. People only have to look at you to know how weak you are.’ His foot presses down harder. ‘You do not have the weight to break my ribs. You will have to resort to a quick blow.’
The foot is removed. He steps back. ‘Your mind games won’t work on me, Moonface. I ain’t some dumb teenage bitch. You’ve been assigned to me ’cause I’m the hardest, coldest guard in ‘ere.’
I smile. ‘You can keep repeating it, but you’ll never believe it.’
Silence. A minute’s worth. His breathing becomes normal. ‘I told you to put those glasses on.’
‘They don’t suit me.’
‘Not funny. Put them on your hideous head, or I’ll make you starve.’
I laugh. ‘I welcome publicity.’
‘You really do belong in hell. You will not beat me, freak. No one beats me.’
He closes the door and walks off. His steps are slow. He is deep in thought.
The brute is keeping my mail from me. He said that I have a fanbase. I was right, after all. But right now this means nothing to me. I want to know, I must know, if my Elizabeth has written to me.
43
The strong sunlight hurts me, but it is no burden when compared to the pain it has replaced. My glasses lay abandoned in the corner of my cell. Someone has just opened the door. As that person steps into my room I can tell from the sound that it is Hallam.
‘Good morning, Hallam.’
‘Is for me. I’m getting paid to do this.’
‘You mean you wouldn’t supervise me for free? I thought we were becoming friends?’
‘Stand up straight. You’re a fucking disgrace. Hold yourself like a man.’
I smile. ‘It’s great, this world – it has no mirrors.’
He approaches me in a leisurely manner. And then, suddenly, he stamps his foot into the side of my kneecap. It gives way and impacts the floor hard.
‘Seems you were wrong about the friend thing, don’t it?’
The pain is bearable. I had braced myself for an attack and was as ready as I could be. I fill my lungs with air, wanting to sound composed when I speak. But then I change my mind and exhale hard. I want to sound normal. There is only one actor here. ‘No, my friend is a jealous one.’ My voice is hoarse.
‘You ain’t gonna wear those glasses, are ya?’
‘I look better without them.’
‘Know how much they cost the taxpayer? Any amount is more than you deserve, you piece of shit.’
‘Society owes me much more than money,’ I say, slowly pushing myself back against the wall.
‘You’re just a bitter reject, that’s all you are, all you’ll ever be.’
‘Not anymore, Hallam. I have dealt with my issues.’
‘By kidnapping a schoolgirl?’ Initially, his voice was controlled, but now it fluctuates. ‘Fucking paedophile. I bet you wanked over her, didn’t ya? You fantasised about fucking her, but it’s never gonna happen. You’re never gonna see her again!’
I shake my head. ‘She offered herself to me, but I declined.’
‘Bollocks! She was fucking brainwashed! She never wanted you, no one wants you!’
‘What about my “sick fanbase”?’
‘You don’t have no fans!’
‘We both know I do. You have all their letters.’
‘Do I fuck! No one would waste their time writing to ya.’
‘You’re lying. I can read it in your voice. It reveals guilt too.’
‘You’re full of shit, Moonface. Your “assumptions” are always wrong. You’re wrong about Elizabeth, you’re wrong about your fans and you’re wrong about me. But don’t worry, you’ve got many years in here to realise that.’ He leans in closer and whispers, ‘Many years of total isolation. You do ever get a letter and I’ll burn it in front of ya.’
My heart sinks but I hide this. ‘I can help you,’ I say.
‘I don’t want nothing from you.’
‘You need help. You, Hallam, are suffering.’
He laughs. It is high pitched and fake. ‘What, shall I cut my eyes out like you did?’
‘You think you are fighting nature, don’t you?’
‘What–’
‘Your size, your lack of physical strength and presence – that is what you think you rebel against.’
‘I don’t wanna change nothing about myself.’
I smile. ‘You said that with no conviction. That statement was crawling with uncertainty. It is a fac
t that you are small in stature and that people do not fear you, but it needn’t be the case that you are weak in your mind.’
I hear shuffling. I imagine that Hallam shakes his head. ‘I told you, you won’t beat me.’
‘You want to be relieved of this duty, Hallam. You want to be reassigned, I know you do, but you do not have the strength to ask. You think I am a threat to your self-preservation, but in truth I am a blessing.’
Two seconds silence. ‘Like you were to Spinney?’
I nod. ‘I made something useful out of him. In life he was a bully. But it was in response to nothing. In your case it is your size.’
‘... I always knew you’d be mine. Way back when I heard about your arrest. I wanted you to be mine.’
I shake my head. ‘Just to circumvent the problem.’
‘What the fuck are you on about, freak?’
‘You thought I would help maintain your pretend image. You couldn’t wait to tell your mates, could you? Moonface was coming to you, Hallam, and you would give him what he deserved. Perhaps you should tell them that all you have actually done, now that I am here, is present to me an insecure, pathetic and feeble specimen.’
More silence. At least five seconds of it. ‘You don’t put those glasses on, you’re in for a world of shit.’ Footsteps and then a crunch as the glasses crumble beneath his foot.
‘Try to tell them the truth about that, Hallam. It will help you to admit your insecurities. Resist the need to tell them that you did it to cause me pain.’
‘How long’s it gonna take you to realise you can’t break me, freak?’ He sits down in front of me.
‘You’ve shown me too much to the contrary, Hallam. I am well on course.’
‘You just keep telling yourself that.’
I inch closer to him. I think I have noticed something important. ‘How long have you worked here?’ I ask.
‘Seven years.’
‘And how long have you been a senior officer?’
‘Two years.’
‘Why are you not looking at me, Hallam?’
‘... ’Cause you’re fucking hideous.’
‘You will get used to my appearance.’
‘I don’t fucking think so.’
He will not face me. I can tell that when he speaks. ‘You didn’t want me to come to you. You feared that it would happen. It was “just your luck”...’
‘Think what you want.’
‘Look at me, Hallam.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘Do you dream about me? Rather, am I in your nightmares?’ Deep breaths from him. He is uncomfortable. I have penetrated him. He does not answer. ‘I haunt you in your sleep, don’t I, Hallam?’ No answer. ‘I can stop it, Hallam. I promise you.’
‘You’re boring me.’ Very weak and emotional.
‘I can read as much in a voice as you can in an expression.’
‘Who gives a fuck?’
‘You do not sound disinterested, Hallam. You sound desperate.’ He sighs. ‘Sleep deprivation cannot cease until the anxieties do,’ I explain. ‘You have to accept the way I look.’
‘You’re a fucking freak!’ He shouts, rising to his feet. ‘You’re not normal, that’s why I can’t fucking look at ya. You don’t deserve to be looked at!’
‘Face your fears, Hallam.’
‘So you can fuck me up like you did Elizabeth? I ain’t that fucking weak!’
‘Do you scream out in your sleep? Do you wake your family?’
He dives onto me and clamps his hands around my neck. I hold his wrists to avoid choking.
‘Don’t you ever talk about my family,’ he rasps. ‘Understand, you fucking animal?’
‘I understand, Hallam.’
He releases me and storms out the cell. It is not just insecurity that is the cause of his behaviour towards me. He must have a daughter...
44
Three days pass before I am next able to speak with Hallam. His replacement during that time, Todd, informed me that Hallam was on his rest period.
My treatment of Victor’s corpse intrigued Todd, and, during his first day with me, he made it clear that he wanted to hear all the minute details. He offered me concessions for imparting such information, but I turned them down. I did, however, answer his questions, as nothing I had done was unjustified or regretted.
‘I heard that maggots were pouring out of his eyes and his ears and his nose,’ he said.
‘Not quite. They were visible in his orifices, but I coated them with cotton wall to soak up the fluids. With the exception of his eyes of course.’
‘That must have looked...fascinating.’
I shook my head. ‘He looked harmless.’
‘... When you...stabbed him, you watched him die. This bloke you hated more than anything. How did that feel? When the fucker was dying on the floor?’
I paused. ‘I felt concerned for Elizabeth.’
‘But you made her watch him decompose.’
I swallowed hard. I was so sensitive about Elizabeth. Without her reassuring words, encouraging me that I was right and that she agreed with my actions, I felt vulnerable. His statement hurt me. It was a fact that I had done that, but I had to, I had to remember that he was one of them – he fed on poison. He was uncured. For all of them, it was a shocking and inexcusable act. Nothing I had done to Elizabeth was inexcusable, I knew that, but I wanted to hear it from her.
I felt that in time, her absence, our separation, would become unendurable for me. I had spent days in here and already guilt had infiltrated me. What would I feel like in years, if, as Hallam had threatened, he kept all my mail from me? And even if he did not, what if Elizabeth was not one of the authors? It was a fear that I did not want to face. I would deflate if I thought too much about it.
‘No I did not,’ I respond. ‘I forced... I...encouraged her to accept the human form without eyes.’
A laugh. Dry and cough-like. ‘Fucking love her, don’t ya? It cracks me up. You know, Chalk, you should write a book and call it “Mr Romance”!’
I do not respond.
‘She’ll ’ave a wicked story to tell ’er school mates about her summer holiday!’
‘I do not share the humour.’
‘Nah, course you don’t. You’re fucking mad, Chalk. Serious, you’re barking, I know you are. I’ve dealt with loads of nutters. All of ’em, they all think they’re right, no matter what they’re told. One bloke was convinced Blu-Tack was smurf shit.’
‘Really?’ Todd reminded me of PC Collingwell.
‘Yeah. You’re the same. You think what you did was right. Even though everyone else knows it’s wrong.’
‘Why then are you so interested in the events?’
‘It’s done now, ain’t it? You might as well tell me about it.’
‘Why did you choose to be a prison officer?’
‘It’s a job, ain’t it?’
‘And how do you feel about the prisoners?’
‘They interest me. Their versions of events, their thought processes.’
‘Perhaps you would be better placed as a psychiatrist.’
‘Nah. I just listen. The stories fascinate me, that’s all.’
‘And what about Hallam? He does not share your enthusiasm.’
‘Hallam don’t give a fuck about nothing. He’s solid. You want ’im on your side.’
‘I don’t think I’m there yet.’
Another laugh. ‘You won’t be. He hates you cons.’
‘How old is his daughter?’
A long pause. ‘We don’t discuss our personal lives with you lot.’
‘Yet I am expected to divulge my experiences to you?’
‘Well you don’t have a life no more, do you, Chalk? All you’ve got is what you’ve done. Only I’ll talk to you about it. None of the others will. They’d rip your throat open if they could. But I find you guys interesting. ’Specially you, Chalk. What you did was fresh, it was unprecedented. At least you can relive it with me.’
‘I had expected a far larger following.’
‘Oi!’ His voice turned stern. ‘Listen to me. I’m gonna tell you this just once. I don’t agree with nothing you did, you’d better understand that. I just think we can learn from it. That is the fucking score, d’you understand?’
I nod. ‘Everything we did was for educational purposes.’
‘At the end of the day, Chalk, you tortured a little girl. You took her away from her friends and family then you physically and mentally abused her. All because she turned you down in a pub. In fifty years’ time, when all the hard-ons have gone soft, that’s what you’ll be remembered for.’
Again, a positive indication of my current public profile, albeit conveyed in Todd’s blunt, stunted language. ‘So the public are supporting me?’ I ask.
‘Course they’re fucking not! But every sick bastard’s understood by some demented dickhead. Don’t feel flattered.’
‘Hallam is keeping my mail from me, that’s why I asked.’
‘Yeah, he does that.’
‘What can I do about it?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Does he burn it?’
‘Nah. He’ll give it to you when he’s calmed down. Depends how much you piss him off.’
‘He seems to particularly dislike me.’
‘I can tell.’
‘Can you offer me any advice?’
‘No. Hallam’s my supervisor and he’s a mate.’
‘Can you tell me if Elizabeth has tried to communicate with me?’
‘I ain’t supposed to talk to you about nothing.’
‘But since you are–’
‘Since I am what? I choose what we talk about. I ask the questions and you answer ’em. That’s more than you deserve.’ A minute’s silence. ‘So tell me, after you cut out your first eye and you realised how painful it was, how were you able to cut out the other one?’
‘Because it was a burden. Now I am free of burdens, unlike you.’