by A. Q. Moser
Having to see what I did to myself, there was consensus of shock by the group. May then looked away in disbelief.
As if speaking to a self-help forum, I opened up to what I have become. “This is what they forced me to do. I have to live with these scars forever. Do you understand now how my life sucks? When you don’t have control of things, there just seems to be no purpose in life.”
Every cell in my body wanted to hurt the old man regardless of his age. There was no remorse and therefore no mercy to give. I did not care if I went to jail. This was my chance for retribution and I did not care anymore about anything. I just wanted to punish.
Turning to face the old man, I crouched low by the base of the wall. My face burned red hot and it throbbed like it was going to explode. I raised my fists to shoulder height. As if knowing what was going to happen, Tamme began to fidget around in an effort to squirm out of his duct tape fastenings. I threw a combination of a right and left, repeating the pounding action on Tamme’s soft cranium. After several blows blood streamed out from the gashes on the skin. Despite this, I continued to strike even as the body fell lifeless.
Halting the pummelling, the grip of several hands tugged me away from doing any further harm. The basement erupted into a confusing collage of shrieking and shouting. Cadet jumped on me and wrapped me in a tight bear hug preventing any further action. I struggled to squeeze out but I grew tired and let up.
“Are you crazy? We need him,” Wolfgang shouted, standing inches from my face.
“Calm down,” Cadet calmly whispered in my ears.
“Joel, what’s wrong with you? We need this guy,” Billy barked out, in stark contrast to his previous statement.
Equating the administered beating to a knee-jerk reaction, I felt like I had my senses knocked back into me. I had a massive headache and felt like I was run over by a freight train. Gazing at the beaten old man, another secondary emotion surged within me. I got to hurt somebody who deserved it and I felt satisfied. Pain and sweetness became a single emotion. I felt retribution for the stolen nights and, most importantly, for a life lost due to an involuntary science experiment.
Ready to help, May tended to the unconscious hostage. She used a wad of tissues to clot the gushing blood. She went about picking up the skin pieces as if I broke a glass vase.
“Does Tamme need stitches?” Wolfgang asked May.
May lifted the redden tissues and peeked under to examine the wounds. “The cuts look superficial. I think he should be good. Poor guy.” She stroked the old man’s cheeks.
May handed the old tissues to Wolfgang and used clean tissues from the tissue box on the couch to wipe away the blood. Billy stood by watched.
In plain view of all, Cadet, my human shackle, tightened his bear grip on me.
“You’re hurting me Cadet,” I wheezed as I could not expand my lungs fully for air.
“I’ll release you as soon as you apologize,” Cadet said from the side of his mouth.
“Apologize! Forget it. So it’s all right to hurt me but not him? What about my scars?” Although I felt like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders, I would not give into this demand. I wanted to dwell on the emotion of triumph rather than submit.
“Joel, that’s so unlike you,” May remarked. “If he died we could be in really serious trouble.”
“You know, Joel, I wonder about you sometimes.” Billy was disappointed as if I lost his respect.
“Hey, Joel.” Cadet directed his words to my ear. “From now on we make group decisions. There will be none of this psycho beating stuff. We have a plan and the plan must be followed for us to beat these people. Got it?”
Sure, sure, I nodded. Not because I agreed to it but because I wanted out of the stranglehold. The fake sincerity was a reaction of instinct as too was the instinct to run for fear of being caught. The pressure of submitting to the whims of the group felt restricting.
“Is everything okay down there?” Bruno called out from the top of the stairs.
Troubled by the extra person, both Wolfgang and May had an alarmed look on their faces.
Billy waved it off like there was nothing to worry about. “Everythink’s under control, Bruno. Thanks.”
Ever trusting of Billy, Bruno shuffled away.
“Please let me go,” I begged. The pressure of the bear hug was adding to my headache such that I could hurl any minute.
“What should I do guys?” Cadet checked on the group. “See how I ask everyone for their advice.”
“Tie him up in the other corner,” Billy advised seriously as if he were dealing with a delinquent patient.
“Let him go,” May asked Cadet for his cooperation, as if Billy’s idea was preposterous. “I think he learned his lesson.”
“Are you going to stop,” Cadet voiced in my ear, “and go to your room?”
My stomach felt evermore uneasy. “Just let me go, I feel like I’m going to puke.”
Releasing his restraint and then pushing me towards the stairwell, Cadet feared any contact with my vomit.
May came to my side. “Are you alright?”
“Never better,” I remarked without bothering to look May directly in the face.
Perceiving a sort of redemption for my long term suffering, a new mood, a nauseous headache, accompanied my queasy stomach pains. I hoofed up the basement stairs. I had the energy level of a dying sloth, holding on despite being unable to run anywhere. For the first time I could remember, sleep was a desirable idea.
“I’ve read about these violent bursts in a few candidates,” Cadet matched my action to a symptom of the subliminal messages.
Offended by the offhand comment, I felt Cadet was wrong. I was not under anyone’s control and no one made me do what I just did. How dare they even think such a thing? I was done with them. I did not care what they said about me anymore. Deep down inside, it disappointingly unsettling to feel unwanted.
Passing the living room, I continued up the stairs to the second story guided by a nightlight. The hardwood floorboards creaked till I reached the second door on the left. Shutting the door, I undressed down to my underpants and t-shirt and crawled under the fresh sheets drawing in the soothing comfort of the cool sheets. The cleaning smell of sour lemons upset my stomach more so that I closed my eyes without a worry in the world.
* * *
Under the drawn window shade, a brilliant beam of sunlight radiated around to wake me up. Not a forced a wake-up but tranquil like a soft kitten nudging its owner for a treat. It was morning and I had slept an entire night undisturbed. It was an odd episode like skipping a bountiful feast due to lack of hunger.
Lightly and gracefully, I rose out of bed alive and rejuvenated. What a feeling to experience this? I could not remember a night where I slept all night. What a glorious sensation. No headache, and most importantly no nightmare. My body was neither groggy nor sweaty nor smelly. There was no tightness in my back or in any other muscle on my body. It was truly an invigorating feeling like uncovering a misplaced stash of cash. A deep breathe of the inspiring air and life just seemed right. Yes, life was simply good.
Adding to the splendour of living, there was no dream and no nightmare to remember. So much splendour at such a longing experience that my heart jumped up surging with jubilation. I had the energy to accomplish anything, without any hesitation A good night sleep was the exact remedy to get me on track. I was reborn as a new Joel Dangal Taw.
Revealing in my new identity, there was a tranquility taking shape in this new bedroom. An old habit, I looked around to see what time it was. There was no clock in the bedroom. The wisps of sunlight peeking through the drapes indicated a glorious day.
I dressed with the spare clothes from the dresser, grinning all the while as I examined the new me in the round mirror. Wearing a short-sleeve t-shirt, I was no longer ashamed of the scars on my wrist. I made the bed as a sign of respect to my host. Checking down the hardwood floor hallway, all the bedroom doors were closed except for the wa
shroom door. I washed up and tippie-toed across the creaky floor, down the stairs to a quiet kitchen.
Set on the table was a pot of coffee and a clean plate and cup left unattended. I guessed everyone was still sleeping still. What time was it? The microwave clock had six o’clock. It was still early in the morning. I was absolutely famished, and in the meantime, I might as well cook a nice breakfast of scrambled eggs. A courtesy for all.
At the top of the fridge, I located a frying pan, then cracked a dozen eggs over a light drizzle of olive oil and toasted several slices of whole wheat bread. The aroma of the sizzling eggs in the frying pan was delightful. My lungs surged with every whiff. I was content to cook for everyone. I wanted to offer a selfless contribution for the good of the group. I arranged the kitchen table to seat seven; each spot had two eggs and two slices of toast and a big glass of orange juice. There was a tiny bell next to the oven. Should I ring the breakfast bell to show my plentiful masterpiece?
Thinking it through, I resorted to enjoying the prepared meal on my own. I ate to my fill and then some. All the elation I felt within did not stifle my famine. It was a morning to celebrate and food was a token of the festivity. Although I wanted to share this wonderful meal with someone, people were still sleeping so I stretched my arms wide and eased out of the chair. I tidied the kitchen table, putting the used frying pan, my dish and utensil in the dishwasher.
Free to wallow, I passed by the stairwell to the basement to eavesdrop for signs of activity. Nothing at all. It must have been a late night for everyone. But surely somebody would have supervised Tamme? The pot of coffee in the kitchen meant someone stayed up last night.
49
All the memories and emotions from last night’s violent outburst felt like a surreal dream. Strained emotions just boiled over. I was never one to react in a violent fashion. I perceived myself as a passive person stepping down from a hostile situation rather than fighting for the sake of harm. In an odd twist, I thought I would regret hurting the old man but somehow I felt no remorse at all. He deserved what he got. The only thing I was disappointed with was whether I jeopardized the group’s plan. Cadet was right; we needed to work together in order to expose this project to the public. I needed to apologize for my disobliging actions last night.
Uncertain what to do, I moseyed over to the living room with the flower-imprinted wallpaper. I reclined on the overstuffed couch, staring up at the whitewash carvings of the ceiling. Accustom to seeing a television everywhere, it dawned on me there was no television in the living room. For that matter, there was no television anywhere in this house. Was this intentional?
Loud cranking noises emitted from the garage like the garage door was activated. The roaring sounds startled me. Was this a police raid? I jumped to my feet, not knowing whether to hide or dart out of the house. The door leading to garage swung in.
Wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, Billy stepped out. “Mister Sleepie-head is finally up.” He shoved the cap and sunglasses into his pocket and filed into the living room.
Placing four grocery bags on the floor, Cadet displaced the hood of his oversized sweatshirt revealing a shaved head. “Joel, you’re finally awake?”
“Hi,” I announced full of cheer.
“Hey, Joel.” May smiled back, removing her shades. “Did you have a goodnight’s sleep?” Her hair was cut short, the cut line tapering off at the jaw line.
“I had the best sleep ever.” A deep breath of air and I was glad to be alive. “Did you cut your hair?”
“Yeah I did.” May swept her fingers through the ends of her hair. “Good to hear you slept. There’s like a glow to your skin tone. Washroom break,” she announced and scaled the stairs in a hurry.
Wearing a baseball cap too, Wolfgang darted to the kitchen with a giant watermelon in his arms. “Good evening Joel.”
“You mean good morning?” I felt like laughing at the mistake.
Giselle smiled back at me. “Ah, no dear. It’s six past in the evening.” She followed Wolfgang to the kitchen, dragging a set of grocery bags too.
“Huh?” Was this some kind of a practical joke they were playing on me?
“You slept for over fifteen hours,” Cadet informed me.
My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets. “What?”
“You must’ve been really tired,” Cadet surmised.
“I can’t believe that. I don’t know what to say. All this time I thought it was the morning.” I was shocked.
“Maybe whackink the guy in the head helped you sleep,” Billy psychologically analysed my violent episode.
“Yeah about that thing last night, I’m really sorry for what I did. I feel totally embarrassed. I promise I won’t do that again. Should I apologize to him?” Sincere, I made up on the spot in hopes of being accepted by the group.
“Don’t worry Tamme is fine.” Billy did not care.
“Where did you guys go?” I inquired, considering the military is out there looking for us.
“Giselle had to do some groceries and we had our looks changed,” Cadet casually explained.
Turning into the living room, Wolfgang adjusted his sagging pants. He looked younger; it was not the new clothes he was wearing. He noticed me looking at him funny.
Wolfgang rubbed his smooth face. “I shaved.” He removed the baseball cap.
“Wow, you look so different.” The change in appearance was so drastic.
“Good.” Wolfgang nodded at the reassurance. “So it would be harder for anyone to recognize me.” He tossed the baseball cap on the couch arm.
“I don’t notice anything different.” Although everyone had a new exterior look going, my change was internal.
“I’ve got an image to maintain. Shades and a cap are good enough for me.” Billy patted his sideburns.
“If you guys were out, who was watching Tamme?” I said, lowering my voice so Giselle would not hear.
“You don’t need to whisper, she knows. Giselle is cool.” Billy sat on the couch next to Wolfgang. “Don’t worry, Bruno is downstairs.”
May returned from the washroom upstairs. “What are you guys talking about?” She parked herself on the oval rug, next to the scuffed coffee table.
“We should let Joel know what we know and what we’ve done so far.” Wolfgang hinted at a busy day. “So we’re all on the same page.”
Employing some caution, Billy nodded to the suggestion. May and Cadet also approved with a thumbs up.
“Although some drastic measures were taken,” Wolfgang recapped, “that is, grain alcohol was administered to Tamme to interfere with his cognitive function—”
“Drugged him?” My eyes opened in disbelief.
“It was Billy’s idea. He snuck alcohol in the house,” May explained as if it made sense. She fidgeted about on the rug, settling on a half-lotus position.
“Actually it was my idea,” Cadet spoke with the magnitude of a wartime hero, deep voiced and glad to be of service.
Wolfgang cleared his throat to add critical information. “Under a suggestible state of mind, Tamme has gladly informed us of a slew of classified information behind the Ameliorate project. Although he could be mixing fact with fiction, we’re fairly confident that he was telling the truth. Cadet has confirmed the existence of most of the military personnel that were disclosed by Tamme.”
“Cadet knows.” May winked my way.
Wolfgang rubbed his shaven chin. “Although you weren’t there, we decided to take it one step further—”
“We have a handwritten draft for an article bound for the news giant the Daily Toronto.” May bounced to her feet, empowered by the proactive action. “We just need to get to a computer and have it typed up.”
“Really?” I was surprised and yet content that the information about the project was unveiled for all to read.
“No computer here because of Giselle’s policy,” Wolfgang informed me.
Billy displayed the Corna gesture by extending his index
and baby fingers. “They’re goink down.”
“I feel like I missed so much. The four of you seem so resolved that maybe you’re better off with me. I feel like I hold you back.” The group made so much progress without me.
May got up and hugged me. “Don’t worry. You’re always a part of this team. You needed your rest and now you can help us.”
“Speaking of Tamme, someone should check up on him and Bruno,” Wolfgang suggested from the comfort of the couch.
“Send Joel. He could start by making it up for what he did last night.” Billy had no qualms about me.
X-ing the idea of sending me, Wolfgang shook his head.
Accepting the task at hand, I shrugged unconcerned. I was thrust into a role of servitude, no longer an equal to the team members. Despite my best effort to prepare breakfast for everyone, even though I thought it was morning and I tried to redeem my undoing for last night’s fiasco, it did not matter. There was no way Billy’s derogatory order would dampen how I felt. My mind and body were rejuvenated from an outstanding good night’s sleep and I was glad to be alive.
“Bruno will keep an eye on the both of them,” Billy advised.
Cadet looked to Billy like he was not sure whether to trust me too.
“I’m sorry for what happened yesterday.” I looked down at the lacquer vase with the plastic flowers on the centre of the coffee table. “I promise that I won’t disappoint you guys again. We came together as a group and as a group we found the truth and only as a group can we find justice. Promise,” I affirmed.
“Listen up, don’t do anythink stupid,” Billy added his two cents posthaste.
“Leave him alone Billy,” May defended. “He said he was sorry.”
“Yeah,” Billy paused in mid thought. “Yeah well, then you go too.”
“Fine,” May pushed me towards the kitchen, leaving the upper echelon alone in the living room.
Giselle was busy unloading the provisions and packing the fridge. “Dear, did you cook eggs?”