by catt dahman
“Is everyone, I mean, does everyone have a foot or an arm in his cage and then the opposite is in another cage?” Mike asked.
“Who cares?” someone yelled, “I want out.”
“We all do. No, Mike, I have my hand pinned, and then a hand is pinned here in my cage,” said Lovie as she mustered herself. She noticed that besides Skot, no one cared if she had been picked up in a bar. No one berated her, and she felt bad for Kimberly who had been just as fooled. She was glad Jake was next to her. He was comforting when he asked about how they felt.
“I am both feet,” a woman said from next to Mike, “I’m Carina.” She had stopped muttering and rocking herself as she cried. The soothing voices made her feel a little better as she listened to them, trying to figure out where they were; at least, they were trying to help.
“Hi, Carina,” Mike said. He was using everything within himself, all of his determination, to stay calm and to connect with everyone else. It was all he could think to do.
“How are you, Carina? Doing okay?” Jake asked.
“Okay. Not okay. I don’t know, but thank you for asking, Jake,” Carina said. “That was Jake? Yes?”
“You got it. It’s me with the big ole voice.”
“And probably a little bitty….”
“Be quiet,” Ruth told Skot before he finished the insult.
Jake chuckled.
“Lovie to Jake, to someone, to Skot, to me,” Ruth said, “then Andre, Kimberly and finally Nick. Where are you, Mike?”
“Somewhere across from you. He patted the hand that extended into his cage again. “Hello? Are you okay?”
“I wanna go home. Leave me alone. I wanna go home. Leave me alone.”
“Did you have to get her going?” Skot bellowed, “and she’s as bad as the other one with the loud prayers.”
“Sorry,” Carina said.
Mike sighed and replied, “I doubt prayers hurt, Skot. They might help for all you know. Leave her alone.”
The woman next to Mike jerked and fought again as she repeated her own mantra. Jake could have told them the repetitions that some latched onto were normal and an example of light shock, which was also expected in a situation like this where people felt higgledy-piggledy and uneasy. The woman was making herself bleed as the metal cuff dug into her skin and added to her anxiety, Jake surmised. No matter what Mike said, she refused to stop repeating herself, and she didn’t stop fighting until she had exhausted herself. She was too terrified to listen to Mike or Jake or to stop fighting.
Mike and Jake were of the same mind set and figured each of them was very close to being in the same mind set of pure panic. A few so far were helpful, a few were causing more problems, and the other few were up for grabs. They could go either way.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Jake,” a voice said. It was a new voice somewhere across from him.
“I’m Terri. I’m next to you, Nick, and beside me is Owen. He ain’t one to talk yet, so he whispered it to me a while ago. Let him settle in. He’s scared. Shit, I’m scared. I can’t do this. Iffin’ I get outta here, I’m gonna beat someone’s ass,” the woman’s voice was full of despair, and she rocked her cage a few times and screamed to be freed.
“Terri, hey, calm down. Please. Don’t hurt yourself, okay,” Nick said. “Guess what? Girl, when I get out of here, I intend to beat some ass, too. I bet Mike and Lovie and everyone else would join in a good, old-fashioned ass beating.”
“Yeah?” Terri asked softly.
Nick nodded, but she couldn’t see that. “I am sure of it. Thank you for speaking up and telling us that Owen is there. Hello, Owen. I know you’re afraid, just like the rest of us. Some of us are talkers, and some, like you, are taking it in. Just stay calm, and listen to our voices. It’s good Terri is there to help you.”
Those listening thought Nick and Jake sounded similar in the way they adapted and headed off potential break downs. Ruth noticed it immediately and wondered what Nick did for a job. Maybe he was also in the medical field.
“You people crack me up: so calm, so helpful. Tell me you aren’t shakin’ in your boots, too,” Skot said.
“Okay, but when I get out….” Terri began, shaking her cage.
“You and I are going to beat some ass. It’s a deal, Terri,” Nick called. He could have throttled Skot for chiming in.
No one came to release her. In a few minutes, she went still again and stared into the darkness. She had said all she wanted to say.
A few of those listening began to process the situation. Mike was logical. Jake was centered on making sure they were as unharmed as possible and cared about people medically. Ruth was a thinker; Lovie was scared but helpful; Skot was a jerk; Andre was calm; Kim was in a bad way and crying. Nick seemed to adjust to various personalities and tried to make a connection. His way of speaking changed with whomever he spoke to, and he used names a lot.
“Then, we are missing three names and seem to be,” Mike concentrated, and said, “in a circle.”
“A circle?”
“A circle, jerk,” Ruth told Skot.
“Circle jerk?” a voice chimed in. He was the man between Carina and Lovie. “They’s messin’ with our heads, yo. Dumb shits don’t know Vinnie Gambino. I’m going to get out of here and fuck them up; let me tell ya, yo. I got this. Hey, whoever you are, come and face me. Let’s rock.”
“I’m with you,” Terri said.
“Terri, Vinnie, and me, we have this…better look out now,” Nick called.
Ruth smiled and chuckled, despite her situation. Between Skot and Vinnie, this was amusing; if she let herself, she would giggle hysterically, and she knew that would cause her to fail. There was such a fine line between smiling at the men and their bravado, false at that, and falling into a puddle of hysterical goo. She was sorry others were suffering, but it felt so much better to hear the voices at least and to know people were there with her. That thought kept her fear at bay.
Having a leg pinned in Kimberly’s cage must have caused Andre terrible pain, but he reached around without making a moan or whimper and squeezed Ruth’s foot. It wasn’t sexual or anything, but he rubbed her instep first and worked around the Achilles tendon and then her heel. In a few minutes, he began on her sole and then her toes. He worked gently but then made it a massage; she realized that he was causing the blood to flow better and her muscles to relax. It hurt for a second, but then her foot stopped aching so fiercely. When he paused a few times, he just squeezed her toes for moral support.
He understood she was in pain, and that touch, a human touch, made her spirits lift a little. Some of her pain lessened as he rubbed her foot. She realized she had been making bleats of panic as she was lost in her own thoughts. He got it. He was kind enough to give her succor. Her hysteria sank, and she felt a little restored and told him, “Andre, thanks. You’re a nice person, and I appreciate you. That helps the pain so much.”
“Getting sexy, Ruthy?” Skot smarted off.
“Ha. Nope. I am getting medical attention. Jake isn’t the only one who can give first aid and moral support. If all of you can, rub the hand or foot that is pinned in your cage and get the blood flowing and muscles soft. Right, Jake?”
“Good plan.” He reached for Lovie’s hand and did the same. Several others shifted and tried to give comfort to their cell mates. Jake wished he had thought of this but knew the contact would improve the mood, no matter who had thought of it.
Mike stayed with the woman next to him and rubbed her palm carefully, not wishing to scare her again. He rubbed her palm and then the base of her thumb and felt her relax a tiny bit. He stroked her fingers, made a fist for her, and then opened it and rubbed again. She didn’t speak, but that also meant she didn’t begin her mantras again and she didn’t scream. It seemed she wasn’t crying, just sniffling and sobbing. It was working.
“I don’t touch feet,” Carina said.
“That’s okay,” Mike told her. He smiled to himself. Not everyone was a giv
er, and that was normal.
“Feet are great, but hands work. Each has little parts that correspond to your organs, eyes, sinuses, body parts, and glands. It has been proven to help.” Andre worked over the center of Ruth’s sole and massaged, helping her liver. He knew all about foot massages and thought they improved the entire body. He rubbed, willing Ruth’s liver and other organs to be healthy.
“This is for your liver.”
Ruth smiled, and it was heard in her voice, “My liver thanks you, Andre. You’re good at this. How do you know all that? About what parts corresponds to what organs?”
“It’s my business,” he said simply, “and it’s how I make a living.”
“Rubbing women’s feet? Perv,” Skot snorted.
“Jealous? Feeling pervy yourself? Ah, Skot, I won’t even ask what enemies you have who might have wished this upon you, my friend. I bet your list is long, indeed,” Andre said.
“You talk gay.”
Andre chuckled and said, “That’s priceless. I’m not, but if I were, what would it matter when we are in the same situation?”
“Well, if you are, then you’re missing out on women; they’re all bitches, but they have their places: in bed or making sandwiches, yanno.”
“Pig,” Ruth said.
“Oink,” Skot remarked.
Ruth didn’t know what the massage really did while Andre rubbed her foot, but she was much more calm even if Skot baited her. Her head also felt clear, and the headache was gone. She ignored Skot’s hand, and he didn’t ask for her to help him. Good because she wouldn’t do a thing for him. In some ways even if he were in a cage, Skot frightened Ruth.
Ruth wished Jake were on her other side instead of Skot, whom she disliked already. She wondered if the order of cages mattered to someone and what it meant for her to have hateful Skot on one side with his hand in her cage and caring Andre in the other cage. What could it mean? It was surely planned.
“You’re a hateful man, Skot,” Ruth said.
“It’s his usual,” Mike told her.
Skot huffed and said, “All of you are so ready to say things about me, but ya’ll don’t get it. What I say is what everyone is always thinkin’ and too afraid to say. I do and say what scares you chicken-shits. Hate me all you want, but I am just the person that says what you wish you could say. I don’t care if you make me the bad guy.”
“No, you make yourself that all on your own,” Ruth added.
“Fourteen of us are in a circle in cages; we know that. We can try to figure out why some have feet pinned and others have arms pinned, or we can wait to consider that situation. It is strange, and I can’t think of a reason for the arrangement or for any of this.” Mike thought aloud. “We were each drugged or hit by a female or a male, and it all happened close to Miller’s Bar, I think.”
“Now what?” Nick asked. He rubbed Kimberly’s hand, but the girl next to him...Terri…didn’t rub his hand or touch him. She cried. She made threats quietly and might have been whispering to Owen, the man next to her who never spoke. Nick thought Terri was dealing with this situation with anger. Each had a certain way of processing the circumstances and dealing with them. That was typical.
“We can sit in silence and scream a few times and get worked up, or we can wait calmly in silence, or we can talk to find out who we are and how we got here and to try to find a connection. We may have a little while before anyone comes and tells us why he has made such an elaborate set up and why we were chosen,” Mike said.
“I’d rather talk. Tell us about you, Mike. Start it,” Ruth said.
Chapter Three
“I’m Mike Chin, and I am working on my Masters Degree at the college. I was tired of the Internet and wanted real books for research, so that is where I was Friday night. At the library. Exciting, huh?” He chuckled bitterly.
A few laughed bitterly.
Mike went on, “Tonight? Whatever night this is...or day. It was Friday night this happened to me. A nicely dressed young woman with a pretty smile sat down and asked me a few questions about my books, and we started a conversation about psychology. Her name was Julia.”
“Interesting,” Ruth said. Her mind began whirling with ideas.
Mike paused and added, “Strangely, we talked about what happens to people’s minds when they face horrific situations and have no control and no way of escape.”
Skot barked as he yelled, “I told all of you. See? He is the one doing this. Damnit. Stupid slant.”
“Shut up Skot; knock off the racist remarks. Seems he is just as miserable as we are,” Jake yelled back, “and we have nothing to indicate he did anything; he’s in the same situation.”
“Chink.”
Ruth popped Skot’s arm, and he called her more names. “You’re repeating your colorful names for me. Think. Try hard. Come on and find some new obscenities, okay?”
Several snickered.
“Chink? Wow. Okay, I am Asian American, but I’ve never been called racist names; call me sheltered, huh?” Mike said calmly. “I love that the first time I get called a chink is the day I find myself cuffed in a dog cage.” His voice rose angrily. “This is why people call you snotty Skot.”
Ruth laughed hard. Then, she said, “Sorry, Mike. Please go on.”
“We talked, and it was time to go, so she offered me a ride. It wasn’t far, but it would keep me from getting cold in the rain. Like I said, she went in for drinks, we sat and drank them, and we talked about psychology again, and then, I woke up here. That’s all I am: a student. I am just here with the rest of you, but I’m smart, and maybe I can help figure things out as we go.”
“Do you have enemies? Someone who would do this to you?” Jake asked.
“Not that I know of. It was that woman, anyway, and she was alone,” said Mike as he adjusted himself to another position, feeling the sore places forming where his bones and joints rubbed and were stretched. “Carina? Can you tell us anything?”
“I can. I can say a lot.”
“Tell us,” Mike encouraged her.
“I know Skot. Cabeza de meirda, chingada Madre; that is what he is. I work at Miller’s cleaning toilets and vomit off of the floors and meirda, and he don’t see or talk to me, ‘cept he calls me Taco. ‘Hey, Taco, get dem toilets so clean we can eat from them. They do that in Mexico, chica,’ he says. I was there that night, Friday. And I took the trash out. Penjejo just watched me drag it out, and then the lights went out, like some say. I was out like the lights? Whatever it was. I woke up here in a cage like a stupid culo.”
“Wow,” Ruth said.
Kimberly spoke up, “What a jerk.”
“And here I am locked away with him. Oh, Madre Maria. You see why I didn’t have much to say? Why him? Of all people, we might could be strangers, yes? But I know him.”
Skot growled, “I went out to see why you were taking so long, and you weren’t there. Then whap: twice. I am hard headed, but I know I was hit. Last time the son of a bitch hit me, I fell out, and I woke here. I’m thirsty, I’m hungry as hell, I’m uncomfortable, my head hurts, and I am locked here with a bunch of idiots. Shit. Make my day, will ya”
“Slightly out of order, but okay,” Jake said.
“Maybe she done this to me. She hates me,” Skot accused Carina. “I don’t see why you think it’s because of that one woman. It don’t make sense. Taco girl is estupidio.”
“Gee, I wonder why people hate you?” Lovie snapped.
“Vinnie?” Mike asked.
“Yo, yeah. So Saturday night, I am headed to Miller’s, and I see this chick about to go inside, and I says ‘Yo, Honey Pot, let’s skip the inner tubes and get to the good stuff’. She says….” He stopped. “What’s so funny?”
“Inner tubes? Do you mean interlude?” Ruth laughed.
“Honey Pot?” Lovie snickered, and both women laughed.
“Oh, well, shit, them, too. Interlude. And yeahs, I call them my honey pots. So? Jealous?”
“Yep, sure am,” Lovie sai
d, rolling her eyes and suppressing another laugh.
Vinnie went on, ”And she says all right, and we go get in her car like she asked me to. She was a wicked hot honey pot with long, crazy hair to her waist and white skin like a real freak. Leather. Yo, I figured I had a hottie. Classy looking chick. I figured I hit the fookin’ lottery.”
“What happened?”
“We went to her house. It was fancy and really clean and nice. I was like yo, jackpot.”
“And?” Mike asked.
“Bitch spiked my tequila! Made this pretty margarita with the salt on the rim, yanno, very fancy, but she’s pouring, so whada gonna do, and she served me these chips and some chilled salsa that was hot and spicy, just like the way she was talkin’. I was diggin’ that something big. Yo, I ate some of that and drank my margarita, and next thing, I wake up here, and I done puked them chips. It was a good drink, too. Damn.”
“You vomited? Are you still sick?” Jake asked.
“Nah, I’m okay. It stinks. I brushed it away.” He had pushed the mess out of his cage, but it was stinky, and the nasty scent stayed on his fingers; he could smell his own vomit.
“What was her name?”
“Julia, what else? I told you I just met her, and she had a clean house. It’s gotta be the same one, right?” He called her a few more profane names. “I work construction and go to Miller’s to relax and meet chicks. And this is what I get when I finally have a night off when I ain’t as damned tired. Like she kicked me in the balls, I tell you. Yo. What a bitch, messin’ with Vinnie Gambino.”
Across the circle, Vinnie was irritated; he was a buff, good looking man whom all the women noticed wherever he went. He just about had them lined up for him, and of all things, that one turned on him an drugged him. She drugged the stud. He growled, “Drugged me. Can ya believe that? Me? Women.”
“What do you know about drugging people?” Mike asked.
“Shuddup.”
“I mean, you said it. You made the comment that sounded like you were shocked a woman used drugs on you. Just saying….” Nick added his thoughts.
“Well, no one asked you, yo, did they? No, they didn’t.”