aaron_the fall of america_chapter_35

Chapter 35

A man and a woman, both dressed in white, stood at the end of my bed. One of them had addressed me. It sounded like a man's voice. He had briefly explained that they would make me a better person, that I would soon forget my old other person, that I would soon be contributing to the system rather then being a burden.

I wasn't certain that that was what he had meant by his speech, but it was clear that they had plans for me, that, in my previous state of mind, I would not be a willing participant.

I could remember little of previous life. There was some sort of trouble that left me in a white world. It wasn't the same white world as I was now a prisoner. I suspected I was a prisoner mostly because I was strapped to a bed, though if I wasn't strapped to a bed, I'd not know where to go, if I could decide I should go.

Maybe it was no longer necessary for me to go. Things could come to me. I could witness them and float comfortably in a haze of ignorance.

I could lead a life of doing nothing and leave them to entertain me. That might be best. They appeared well guided, they would surely help me.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Here I am."

"Well put. Do you know where here is?"

"Are you asking me?"

"Is there anyone else in the room?"

"Anyone but me and you?"

"That's right."

"Am I alone now?"

"Not if we are here."

"Are you my friends?"

"We are."

"Why can't I remember you?"

"You might not remember anything."

"Why not?"

"You had a bad accident."

"What happened?"

"You hurt your head."

"Is that bad?"

"You still have command of your language, so your brain will be fine."

"Will I remember things later?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because they would only confuse you."

Already I was confused and all I could remember was that I would not trust these people if I knew what it was about them I shouldn't like.

"Who will?"

"Who will what?"

"Who will confuse me?"

"Nobody will."

"I thought you said they would."

"Who?"

"Is everything white?"

"Sometimes."

"Am I white?"

"Almost. Do you want to be white?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"In anything?"

"You won't need one."

"Will I want one?"

"Do you remember your name?"

"Why would I forget that?"

"Do you know how old you are?"

"How could someone not know that?"

"Could you answer with an answer so that we can ask the questions? It is important to know what you remember."

"For who?"

The two white people looked worried for a minute. They might have suspected I was either holding back from them or not trusting them. Maybe they stopped asking questions so that I could try to decide why they had stopped. Maybe I was supposed to understand something. Something other than being strapped down. Something other than white.

"Why aren't you asking me any more questions?"

They continued to stare at me until they finally left. Though they showed nothing, I could sense they had made a decision. The decision was going to be my future, I would learn to accept it.

Even with my eyes shut, the light was too bright. I couldn’t turn my head to get away from it.

I could feel tension growing in my body. I couldn't move and I was about to be snapped through into another world. It was coming faster. I didn't think I would be strong enough to pass into it.

"Uh."

"So you are in there."

"In where?"

Pain. A thud echoed in my stomach. I was incapable of breathing.

"Open your eyes."

"What?"

Pain. There was trouble with entry. Something was resisting, causing great pain in my stomach. And breathlessness.

"We are going to play a little game, just for fun, before we take you for cleaning."

"I'm not dirty."

Pain.

When I could breathe enough to open my eyes, I saw a man not dressed in white. He was sitting beside me. His smile was meant to lure me into thinking that he wanted to be my friend. But the pain I was in seemed likely his doing.

"Would you like to play my game?"

"No."

Before my response had finished vibrating in the room, I was again struggling for air.

"Would you like to play my game?"

"Not if..."

Pain again.

"Would you like to play my game?"

"Must it..."

More pain.

"Would you like to know what the little game is?"

"Yes."

No pain. It was an intent awakening that told me what the game was.

"I'm going to be your teacher."

"Yes," I quickly put in to give me a few seconds to breathe.

"You will learn to do what I teach you."

"Yes."

"You will learn to do things you would have never considered you were capable of doing before."

"Yes."

"You will learn to think how I teach you to think."

"Why?"

Pain. It was no surprise. Though I wasn't fond of it, it was better than not having pain when I though it was inevitable. I suspected that though I should want to kill the man sitting on my bed, he was capable of teaching me with no uncertainty. Maybe there was something in that, but I couldn’t remember if that was what I would have wanted had I remembered what I wanted.

"You will want to think how I teach you to think."

"Yes."

"You have already learned a good lesson."

"Yes."

"You may want to come back and thank me one day for the life we are going to give you."

"Yes."

"Instead, you thank me now because you won't ever find where you are now."

"Where am..."

Pain. I had almost remembered.

"Yes. Thank you."

He patted me on the face and stood up.

"I think I like you," he said.

"Thank you."

"I won't bother introducing myself now because the next time I see you, you won't remember me."

"Why?"

Pain. Two arms swinging a double fist into my stomach caused enough pain that I lost consciousness.

The next time I found myself awake, four men were unstrapping me and pulling me off my bed. They were excessively rough. They were dressed rough. They weren't like the people in white. They weren't like my teacher.

"Are you people supposed to be here?"

They all stopped. I had to lean against the bed to keep from falling.

"Are we supposed to be here?" one asked another.

"I don't know about you. I think I'm supposed to be here."

"I think I'm supposed to be here," said another.

"We are all supposed to be here."

"No. He's not," one said pointing to the one beside him.

He looked terrified.

It was soon apparent why. The other three beat him until he fell to the floor. They then kicked him until he moved no more. Blood came from his head.

"You killed him," I said.

"We did?"

"Is he dead?"

"He looks dead."

"Why did you kill him?" I asked.

They looked at each other then at me.

"You killed him," they said.

"He's going to kill you as well," my teacher said coming through the door. "Isn't that right."

I had to answer, "Yes."

The three men hurried out the door.

"You must be tired after that," my teacher said.

"Yes."

"We have just the thing to make you a new man."

"Yes."

"You can thank me now."

"Thank you."

He helped me out of my room and down the hall to an elevator that took us down a few floors.

We were soon in a windowless room that was frightfully quiet. The walls were so soft and deformed that all sound was lost.

My teacher had left me in the care of the man and woman in white. They took my white clothes off and lead me to the centre of the room to a very large tub. It was a meter deep if it stopped at the floor.

I knew I was to get in and wanted to get in by myself but I had to be helped. I was too weak to climb in.

When I felt how heavy the water was and that I was being hooked up to intervenes, I knew I was not going for a short bath.

With long poles, they guided me to the centre of the pool. I tried to look back at them but I couldn’t lift my head. I was lying flat on my back again but now I was in salty water that supported me. It was the same temperature as my body.

It was so disturbing and disorientating that I was glad I could at least see the ceiling.

Until a few minutes later when the lights went out.



read on. book_03 chapter_36



by Joanne B. Washington

© 2001 | the jose wombat project