Cuento de Mi Id

“The Chamber”

“You know, I really don’t belong here,” said the prisoner.

“Oh really?” asked the attendant.

“Yes. There’s been some mistake.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course, it is!”

“You don’t have to shout.”

I’m sorry. I...I just get carried away at times. Especially when I see you’re about to punish an innocent man.”

“Oh, really? What innocent man?”

“Why, me, of course. I don’t deserve this.”

“You are Mark Johnson, aren’t you, of 1705 Walnut Hill Lane, Dallas, Texas?”

“Yes.”

“Then there’s no mistake. You are the person scheduled for punishment.”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant…I don’t deserve this punishment. I’ve already paid for my crime.”

“I hardly consider what you went through to be an adequate recompense for your crime, Mr. Johnson. Even if I did, I don’t make the rules here. My superiors do. They have passed judgment upon you, and it is my job to carry out their sentence. I’m only following orders.”

“Sure, just like Adolf Eichmann.”

“That’s not fair, Mr. Johnson.”

“Of course, it’s not fair,” said Mr. Johnson. “Condemned men are never fair.”

“Just step this way, Mr. Johnson.”

They entered a stone chamber. Inside was a rack.

“You’re not going to chain me to that thing, are you?” said Mr. Johnson, pointing to the rack.

“Only for a little while,” said the attendant. “Your sentence will be over sooner than you think.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Please lie down, Mr. Johnson.”

Mr. Johnson did so. As the attendant began to attach chains to his hands and feet, he heard a flapping sound from above.

“You don’t have birds in here, do you?” he asked.

“You’ll soon find out,” said the attendant. “Just like Prometheus.”

“Who?”

“No one important.”

The attendant surveyed his handiwork. “Very well. Goodbye, Mr. Johnson.”

“Wait! Don’t go yet. Tell me please...What did I do to deserve this?”

“Don’t you know?”

“No.”

“You ran over a young girl.”

“Oh, that. I can explain. That was an accident.”

“So you said at your trial. Goodbye, Mr. Johnson.”

“Wait. You don’t understand. I was acquitted. By a jury of my peers.”

“I see.”

“No, you don’t see.”

The flapping sound grew louder.

“It was dark,” said Mr. Johnson. “Late at night. The girl had no business crossing in the middle of the street in the first place.”

“I understand, Mr. Johnson.”

“No, you don’t. If you did, you wouldn't be doing this.”

The attendant started to leave.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“I must leave now, Mr. Johnson,” said the attendant. “I have other people I must attend to.”

“No. Wait!”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Rules are rules.”

“I stepped on the brakes as hard as I could. The car just wouldn’t stop in time.”

“Goodbye.”

“For Chrissakes, the girl wasn’t even in this country legally.”

“I know.”

The attendant left the room, but not before hearing one final scream behind him.

“For the love of God!”

The attendant stood in the hallway outside the torture chamber, pale and shaken.

“Yes, Mr. Johnson,” he said, for the benefit of no one but himself. “For the love of God.”

Cuento de Mi Id

“The Meeting”

The six of them were running down the street and as usual, the kids were way ahead, chasing an old rubber ball which seemed cursed with perpetual motion.

Bob stopped to catch his breath -- his job had left him unused to such exertion -- and finally caught up with the kids halfway down the hill. As was the manner of kids everywhere, the children had stumbled upon another group of children playing in the street and now both were trying to reorganize a game of basketball the former had interrupted with their impromptu arrival. Bob’s golden-haired companion promptly waded into the mess in an effort to sort it out. Tiffany -- the only girl, of course -- as usual wanted to play center and the two oldest boys -- David and Tony -- of course wanted no girls on their team. The other side did not want any new players and the youngest boy -- little Emilio -- stood in the center of the street, slightly dazed by the hubbub of events.

Bob smiled and rocked back on his heels, enjoying the sudden respite from the days’ activities. Then he glanced to the side and saw her.

She was standing in the small front yard of an apartment house, separated from the street by a black steel fence. The gate in this fence was open and nearby was a table and chairs. The woman had cinnamon-colored hair and her casual wear was quite a contrast to Bob’s suit and tie. Only a white sweater would have separated her from the older kids on the street yet there were signs in her face and hands which indicated she was way past the age of high school. In fact, she was about Bob’s age.

He was still trying to suppress a double take when the woman glanced in his direction.

“Your kids?” she asked, nodding towards the street.

“At least four of them are,” he said.

“Oh.” The woman looked distracted for a moment, and then she said, “Your wife seems quite capable.”

“No, that’s my sister,” he replied. “My wife is out on a shopping expedition.”

“Ah, the old house husband routine,” said the woman.

“Not really,” he said. “I just volunteered to watch the kids for a while, and she took advantage of the opportunity.” He smiled hesitantly. “It doesn’t happen all that often, I assure you.”

“I see,” said the woman.

By now, his sister had separated the mass of children into two teams and was making a mock gesture of exhaustion when she noticed the two sets of eyes upon her.

“Well, you were certainly a big help, Bob,” she said, coming in off the street.

“Couldn’t help it, Evelyn,” he replied. “You were doing such a wonderful job. I just had to stand back and watch.”

Evelyn just shrugged and turned to the other woman. “My brother the helpful observer,” she said.

The woman nodded and then Evelyn blinked. “That’s funny,” she said. “You look awfully familiar. Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

The woman glanced at Bob. “Why, yes, you did. You used to see me at the store where Bob and I worked together. My name is Miriam.”

“No shit?” asked Evelyn. “You two really did work together?”

“Yes, we did,” said Miriam.

“For seven years,” Bob added.

He and the woman glanced at one another. Then the glances broke.

“Who would have believed it?” asked Evelyn. “I know I wouldn’t. Will wonders never cease. I‘m sorry I forgot meeting you but you know how life can be sometimes...”

She drifted into silence and, nodding her head absentmindedly, walked off to supervise the basketball game.

“She’s right, you know,” Bob added as Evelyn walked out of hearing range. “It does seem like quite a coincidence.”

“It certainly does,” said Miriam. “But is it my fault if your sister doesn’t remember me?”

“A lot has certainly happened since then,” said Bob. He glanced at the children. “I suppose you’re married now?”

“Actually, I’m common-law.”

Bob raised an eyebrow.

Miriam smiled. “Mark and I couldn’t afford a conventional wedding or anything fancy like that so we settled for common-law. It wasn’t exactly the thing my parents approved of but it was better than nothing. And at least there’s no doubt whom the kids belong to.”

She glanced at the pavement. “How about you?”

“Oh, nothing much. I left town for a while.” He paused, bit his lip and then continued. “I went down south for a while, then came back and finished school -- actually, continued school -- and then I got my master’s and finally got that big computer programming job I always used to talk about.” He glanced in her direction. “And of course, I met my wife Sylvia and had four kids. How about you?”

Miriam broke out in a smile. “Well, it’s sort of obvious what I’ve been doing.” She glanced toward the children again.

“Mark doesn’t let you work?” Bob asked.

“He doesn’t believe in it,” said Miriam. “If we can’t afford to make it on one paycheck, we simply do without.” She nodded absently. “It’s something we’ve had plenty of practice in. Plus I kinda liked staying home for a change.”

“What if you two need extra money?”

“Oh, Mark can always work extra hours at the plant and I, of course, can always babysit. It’s not exactly an easy life, but we get by.” She smiled. “Mark has too much pride in himself to put up with a working wife so I guess we just have to learn to live with it.”

“That’s good,” said Bob.

He paused a moment, then continued. “Of course, our old friend Teri used to be a working wife too.”

“Yeah, look what happened to her?” Miriam said.

“Oh, yeah. Right.”

The two of them fell into a long silence, their eyes blank as they relived mutual memories.

Then Evelyn walked up. “I hate to break up old times but it’s time we get this bunch back home for lunch.”

“Oh, right,” said Bob absentmindedly. “Sylvia will be coming back home soon, anyway.”

“Right.” Miriam glanced at Evelyn. “It’s been good seeing you again. I hope I have the opportunity to see you again sometime.”

“Perhaps we will,” Evelyn replied absentmindedly.

Bob fidgeted. “Well, I’ll see you around sometime, I guess. If I ever come by this way. I don’t exactly live in the same neighborhood anymore.”

For a moment, he stared into the distance. His mouth seemed to open and close involuntarily. Then he turned and said, ”It’s been nice seeing you again.”

“It’s been nice seeing you again too,” said Miriam.

“Yeah,” said Bob.

He turned and ran to catch up with Evelyn and the kids. They were halfway up the street by the time he caught up with them and for a few minutes, he walked besides them in silence. It took a long while but he finally gave in to the impulse to turn around and look at the apartment house with the iron gate. Miriam’s kids were still playing out in front but there was no adult watching them from the front yard.

She must have gone inside, he thought.

He walked on in silence.

He was halfway home when he thought once more of Miriam and realized he was still in love with her.

Cuento de Mi Id

“Eating Disorders”

“Dammit,” Callie said. “I keep buzzing and buzzing and no one ever comes.”

“They never come,” said Debbie from the next bed over. “Not when you want them to. I should know. I’ve been in this hospital for a long, long time and they never come when I push that buzzer.”

“But this is a hospital,” said Callie. “They’re supposed to come when they hear the buzzer. Suppose someone is having a heart attack or something?”

“They wouldn’t care,” said Debbie. “They’re a pretty heartless bunch around here.”

“I don’t believe that, “ said Callie. “The nurse who attended me in the room I was in last night seemed pretty nice.”

Debbie showed her a closed-lip smile. “Take it from me. The nice ones never stay here long. It’s only the nasty evil ones who hang around here in the long run. So what are you in for?”

“An eating disorder. And you?”

“I guess you might say I have a slight drinking problem.”

“And they put you in the hospital for that?”

“Well, I do tend to go over my limit…”

“But still...Aren’t there private clinics and stuff like that for that?”

“Not for what I’ve got,” Debbie said. “The doctors say I‘m quite an unique case.”

“Well, I’m getting hungry.”

“I thought you had an eating disorder.”

“Well, I do. But if I don’t eat on a regular basis, well, it gets worse.”

“I know the feeling.”

“For years they’ve been telling me to eat more, eat more. Now I’m finally at the point that I’m willing to eat more and now they’re starving me to death.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Debbie. “You won’t starve to death. I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it? Since when do you have any say-so?”

“Since my daddy owns this hospital. He’s quite a rich man. I’m sure the nurses will listen to me once I remind them of that. They’d be crazy not to.”

“Well, my father’s not a rich man.”

“I know.”

“You know? How do you know?”

“They showed me your medical records just before they brought you up here.”

“They showed you my medical records?”

“Is there an echo in here?”

“But how? Isn’t that illegal?”

“Sure, it’s illegal. But then a lot of things that go on around here are illegal. Your suicide attempt, for example.”

“That was quite a few days ago.”

“And the scars still haven’t healed, have they?”

“Well, no…”

“And you haven’t heard from your parents yet, right?”

“Well, I have been wondering about that...”

“That’s because they think you’re dead.”

“They think I’m what?”

“There goes that echo again.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m quite serious,” Debbie said.

“You must be joking,” Callie said. “So why were you looking at my medical records?”

“The same reason I glance through everybody’s medical records.”

“And what reason is that?”

“The same reason you keep glancing at that dinner menu they gave you earlier.”

At that point, Debbie reached up and unhooked her IV with the greatest of ease.

“Wait a second. You’re not really sick.”

“I never said I was.”

“But you said. . .”

“My daddy owns this hospital. I have privileges here you can’t even imagine...Besides, I really did tell the truth before.”

“About what?”

At that point, Debbie stood up and bared her teeth. Two of them were pointed. Very pointed.

“I really do have a drinking problem,” she said.