ambulance ride straight to the hospital.”
I shake my head. “Wait. Can you just explain to me why you’re taking me away?”
“I thought you were going to make it all night. You nearly did. Some people just can’t handle isolation. We used to see it all the time when we had to put men in solitary. Some of them lose track of time and start screaming like a baby within an hour. Usually, if they make it as long as you did, and especially if they have a window so they can see that dawn is creeping back in, usually a man will last a few days. No shame on you, though. I wouldn’t want to try it. Especially with all that research under your belt. You were probably seeing ghosts just from the accounts you’ve read, right?”
I shake my head again. I’m not following what he’s trying to tell me.
He bangs on the thick glass and a man turns halfway around. He’s preoccupied with something else, but he takes the time to hit a button. With the buzz of an electromagnet, the door pops free and we step through to their office. It smells of musty old files, being aired out for the first time in a decade or more.
“Have a seat,” Fradeux says. “I’ll make some phone calls.”
While I’m waiting, Fradeux brings over Ed. After a quick introduction, he begins to check me out. Apparently, he was a medic at one point. He declares that I’ve had a panic attack, and that I probably can’t remember exactly what happened.
I remember, but I can’t make any sense of it.
Fradeux has called Judith to come pick me up. I don’t know how that’s going to work—she’s at home with Jimmy. When she arrives, I’m back in my street clothes. I walk out to see her behind the wheel. Jimmy is asleep in the back seat. She made a little bed for him back there and somehow got him to go back to sleep.
I climb into the passenger’s seat. She can drive—I’m too shaky.
I wave goodbye to Officer Fradeaux as she backs out of the parking lot. The gates are up. We don’t have to pass inspection to get back onto the road.
“Did you get what you came for?” she asks.
I’m trying to light a cigarette with shaky hands. I give up.
“Yes and no,” I say. I have only a rough memory of my revelations. It’s like a dream—by the time you’re in the shower, you can piece together some images, but the thread of the story is gone.
“You still think there was something environmental in that cell that caused those men to become violent murderers?” she asks me.
I turn and hang over the seat, looking at my boy, Jimmy. He’s a little angel. He has no idea how precious every second of life is. I jolt upright at the thought. There’s something evil lurking behind that thought.
“I really don’t know,” I say to Judith. “I need to get some sleep, and then I’m going to write. I can feel the words making my fingers twitch, you know? I’m going to bang out some pages tonight.”
“On the story?”
“Maybe. I might take a little detour though. I feel some fiction coming. I might take some time and see where it goes. I’ve got to get the poison out, you know?”
Judith nods. “Don’t neglect the prison story too long. I want to see how it comes out. I want to see how you tie all your theories together on this one.”
“Yeah,” I say. “For sure.”
When we get home, I’m glad to find out that my hands have steadied enough that I can carry Jimmy inside. Judith trudges off towards our bedroom. She has always been really good at falling back to sleep after interruption. Not me. I stay up to wait for Jimmy to wake, so I can get his breakfast and get him off to school. Judith can have some more rest before she has to get ready for work. I hope I’ll be able to get some shut-eye after the house empties out.
While I’m waiting for Jimmy to wake, I sit in the living room, looking out the window and reviewing my notes.
I wrote them only hours before, but it seems like all that stuff happened in a different life. And yet, it
I shake my head. “Wait. Can you just explain to me why you’re taking me away?”
“I thought you were going to make it all night. You nearly did. Some people just can’t handle isolation. We used to see it all the time when we had to put men in solitary. Some of them lose track of time and start screaming like a baby within an hour. Usually, if they make it as long as you did, and especially if they have a window so they can see that dawn is creeping back in, usually a man will last a few days. No shame on you, though. I wouldn’t want to try it. Especially with all that research under your belt. You were probably seeing ghosts just from the accounts you’ve read, right?”
I shake my head again. I’m not following what he’s trying to tell me.
He bangs on the thick glass and a man turns halfway around. He’s preoccupied with something else, but he takes the time to hit a button. With the buzz of an electromagnet, the door pops free and we step through to their office. It smells of musty old files, being aired out for the first time in a decade or more.
“Have a seat,” Fradeux says. “I’ll make some phone calls.”
While I’m waiting, Fradeux brings over Ed. After a quick introduction, he begins to check me out. Apparently, he was a medic at one point. He declares that I’ve had a panic attack, and that I probably can’t remember exactly what happened.
I remember, but I can’t make any sense of it.
Fradeux has called Judith to come pick me up. I don’t know how that’s going to work—she’s at home with Jimmy. When she arrives, I’m back in my street clothes. I walk out to see her behind the wheel. Jimmy is asleep in the back seat. She made a little bed for him back there and somehow got him to go back to sleep.
I climb into the passenger’s seat. She can drive—I’m too shaky.
I wave goodbye to Officer Fradeaux as she backs out of the parking lot. The gates are up. We don’t have to pass inspection to get back onto the road.
“Did you get what you came for?” she asks.
I’m trying to light a cigarette with shaky hands. I give up.
“Yes and no,” I say. I have only a rough memory of my revelations. It’s like a dream—by the time you’re in the shower, you can piece together some images, but the thread of the story is gone.
“You still think there was something environmental in that cell that caused those men to become violent murderers?” she asks me.
I turn and hang over the seat, looking at my boy, Jimmy. He’s a little angel. He has no idea how precious every second of life is. I jolt upright at the thought. There’s something evil lurking behind that thought.
“I really don’t know,” I say to Judith. “I need to get some sleep, and then I’m going to write. I can feel the words making my fingers twitch, you know? I’m going to bang out some pages tonight.”
“On the story?”
“Maybe. I might take a little detour though. I feel some fiction coming. I might take some time and see where it goes. I’ve got to get the poison out, you know?”
Judith nods. “Don’t neglect the prison story too long. I want to see how it comes out. I want to see how you tie all your theories together on this one.”
“Yeah,” I say. “For sure.”
When we get home, I’m glad to find out that my hands have steadied enough that I can carry Jimmy inside. Judith trudges off towards our bedroom. She has always been really good at falling back to sleep after interruption. Not me. I stay up to wait for Jimmy to wake, so I can get his breakfast and get him off to school. Judith can have some more rest before she has to get ready for work. I hope I’ll be able to get some shut-eye after the house empties out.
While I’m waiting for Jimmy to wake, I sit in the living room, looking out the window and reviewing my notes.
I wrote them only hours before, but it seems like all that stuff happened in a different life. And yet, it
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