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Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 26 Enter The 9th Circle

His grip tightens and I relax. Looking deep into his eyes I can see fear. It’s the type of fear that comes from slowly becoming helpless year after year. “What do you need me to do?” I ask. His eyes look around the room. “They are trying to kill me,” he says whispering.  “Who’s trying to kill you?” I ask reaching up to cover my nose with my free hand his stench is overpowering.
“They are, the ones downstairs,” he yells spraying spittle in the air. I lean back to avoid getting hit by the spray but he has me in a death grip. “Oh, ok,” I say not really sure if they are or he has lost his mind. Right now I’m thinking that it could be a little of both. “It will be ok,” I say reaching with my free hand, I try to pry his fingers open but he holds on. “They sell drugs down there,” he says whispering again. “Do you think?” I ask sarcastically. “Goddamned right they do,” he screams throwing his head back letting loose with a cackle. ‘I have an idea,” I say slowly wrapping my hand around his hand trying to pry up his fingers. “What do you say if you let me go, I walk out of here and never tell anyone what I saw?” “You ain’t going nowhere,” he screams shaking his head back and forth.
“I have another idea,” I say slowly. “What if I take that pillow out from behind your back, put it over your face and kill you?” With this said he cackles like a lunatic. “You got spunk!” he says releasing my hand and laughing uncontrollably. “You don’t need help,” I say stepping back. “I do,” he screams facing me. “The only thing you need is a bath.” With this said I step back and walk into the kitchen. “That’ and some Windex,” I add. “I can’t get off this couch,” he screams. I can hear him trying to flip over and face the kitchen.
I am standing in front of the sink looking for a sponge, maybe I will help him out. What’s it like to be so helpless?  I see a bottle of dish detergent that looks like it hasn’t been touched in awhile and I grab it. Moving all the crap out of the sink I turn on the faucet and squeeze the soap into the sink. While it starts to fill up I walk back into the bedroom and open a window. “They sell drugs,” he says craning to face me. “No foolin?” I respond struggling to pull back the drapes. “You think I’m old and crazy,” “you think I’m an idiot,” he says following me with his eyes. “Right on both accounts,” I say picking up several overflowing ashtrays in the room. Carrying them back into the kitchen I can’t locate a garbage can so I make do with a half filled bag and empty the mound of butts into it. "
“They lie to me,” he says the panic rising in his voice. “What do they tell you?” I ask. “They tell me I’m crazy.” I mouth the words “you are” to no one in particular. “Listen, I am going to help you out a little at a time,” I say. “I am going to clean a little something every time I come up here.”
“No one visits me,” he quickly adds. Popping my head back into his room I ask, “Would you like me to visit you?” He nods his head and looks at me with sad eyes. “Ok, I will come and visit you whenever I get a chance, does that work?” He looks like he’s about to cry and nods his head up and down. ‘Good its official” I say and turn back into the kitchen.  
To be continued………..

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

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