smerdyakov
12-29-2011, 11:00 PM
[I]This is just something different that I had a crack at. Any feedback is appreciated.
Part One.
There was a loud clanking noise echoing in my ears, then a deep voice reverberated around the walls.
“Come on now. We’re taking you out,” said the tall figure of a police officer standing over me.
He reached down and took away the blanket that was over me. I noticed I had no trousers on. He then turned to someone behind him and presented me with my trousers and my jacket. He was wearing blue latex gloves. The trousers were wet.
“Why are they wet?” I asked him, in a crackling voice that I barely heard myself. I cleared my throat and repeated my question.
“Err... why are these wet?”
“You had a lot to drink last night,”he said. His face was healthy, young looking, but it bore that hard, passive look of a police officer.
“I don’t understand… why am I here?”
The room was cold, and painted yellow. It was all concrete, with a square of stainless steel on the ground that had a hole in it for pissing in. When someone spoke it echoed loudly, like they were speaking into a microphone.
“You don’t understand why you’re here?” he shouted, rhetorically.
Everything throbbed around me. My head was swimming, and then I slumped to the ground. I didn’t go unconscious though, I just lay on the ground, shards of memory flashing before my eyes, filling me with dread. A hand reached down to my neck, feeling for my pulse. My eyes were wide open, staring dumbly at the wall. Everything in me felt as though it had been excavated and I was just left with a shell of a body that I wanted rid of. I closed my eyes tight and grinded my teeth…
“John…John, can you hear me?” the officer knelt over and looked into my face.
“I don’t remember.”
“What?”
“I don’t remember anything,” I said, louder this time.
“Are you alright? Do you want to see a doctor?” The officer took a long look into my face.
I put my hands up in front of my face, turning them around. They were clean, no blood. My clothes didn’t appear to have any blood on them either. I jumped up and took my trainers from the female officer who stood at the door, and there was no blood on them.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Do you not know why you’re here?” the female officer said. “You were arrested for being drunk in a public place. But we are letting you go with a caution this time.” She half smiled and handed me a tray which had my phone and stuff in it.
The realization of what happened, what me and Jimmy had done, was creeping into focus. I felt relief rolling off me like a downpour. I had gotten away with it. For now at least. She handed me a cup of water.
They did a few sensory tests on me and took my pulse again. “Go to your local A & E if you feel anyway unwell later on today.”
“Ok.” I said, feeling more lucid now.
I wiped my nose with the sleeve of my jacket before stepping out into the cold morning air. I blessed myself, a thing I hadn’t done in ten years or more. My hands were trembling, and my whole body felt hollow with the cold. Luckily, I had a tenner in my pocket, a bit soggy but still legal tender in anyone’s books. It was just gone half ten so I went into a bar across the street, overtaken with the sudden compulsion for a hot whiskey, and maybe another six after that.. The bar was empty, and the smell of bleach coming from the toilets made me nauseous, on top of everything else. I sipped the boiling whiskey, feeling its malty relief all the way down my chest. I rang Jimmy from the pay phone down beside the toilets.
“Jimmy?”
I looked across the bar and the barman stood up from behind the counter. His shirt was the same deep blue as the police officer’s shirt. No epaulettes though…
“Christ, John! Where the hell are you?”
“Jimmy. What the f*ck, man? Did what I think happen actually happen?”
“It happened.”
I didn’t want to tell him I was picked up by the police because it would make him panic. It was too ironic to believe. And besides, it wasn’t necessary to tell him; it would just confuse things even more.
“Do you have the money?”
“What do you mean, Jimmy?”
“The five large I gave you last night.”
“NO.” Just then, it hit me. The whole thing rose sensibly in my head, finally. Everything became as clear as a picture.
I felt the inside sleeve of my jacket. My secret pocket. Sure enough it was there. Five thousand in 500 euro notes. How the police missed that was a mystery.
“You needed the money, John. I got it for you. We are in the clear, don’t worry.”
“But I must have been off the head. I’m only now stringing together what happened.”
“We had a few. But you did well, John. We did well. Job done.”
“So, they weren’t the guys who robbed your mother--”
“--It doesn’t matter. The world’s not worse off this morning with--”
“--Jimmy! This is not you. We aren’t those kinds of people! What in God’s name do you mean job fu*kin done?!... Worse off?...are they…” I couldn’t say it.
I inhaled deeply, trying to find some calm. A warning sign went off in my brain. One of them deep, intuitive ones you get when you sense danger. Something told me I needed to show Jimmy a brave face. Show him that I was in control of myself.
“Jim…what’s done is done.” I exhaled. “I’m in The Grainne Mhaol on Pearse St. Pick us up will ye?”
I hung up the phone.
Part One.
There was a loud clanking noise echoing in my ears, then a deep voice reverberated around the walls.
“Come on now. We’re taking you out,” said the tall figure of a police officer standing over me.
He reached down and took away the blanket that was over me. I noticed I had no trousers on. He then turned to someone behind him and presented me with my trousers and my jacket. He was wearing blue latex gloves. The trousers were wet.
“Why are they wet?” I asked him, in a crackling voice that I barely heard myself. I cleared my throat and repeated my question.
“Err... why are these wet?”
“You had a lot to drink last night,”he said. His face was healthy, young looking, but it bore that hard, passive look of a police officer.
“I don’t understand… why am I here?”
The room was cold, and painted yellow. It was all concrete, with a square of stainless steel on the ground that had a hole in it for pissing in. When someone spoke it echoed loudly, like they were speaking into a microphone.
“You don’t understand why you’re here?” he shouted, rhetorically.
Everything throbbed around me. My head was swimming, and then I slumped to the ground. I didn’t go unconscious though, I just lay on the ground, shards of memory flashing before my eyes, filling me with dread. A hand reached down to my neck, feeling for my pulse. My eyes were wide open, staring dumbly at the wall. Everything in me felt as though it had been excavated and I was just left with a shell of a body that I wanted rid of. I closed my eyes tight and grinded my teeth…
“John…John, can you hear me?” the officer knelt over and looked into my face.
“I don’t remember.”
“What?”
“I don’t remember anything,” I said, louder this time.
“Are you alright? Do you want to see a doctor?” The officer took a long look into my face.
I put my hands up in front of my face, turning them around. They were clean, no blood. My clothes didn’t appear to have any blood on them either. I jumped up and took my trainers from the female officer who stood at the door, and there was no blood on them.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Do you not know why you’re here?” the female officer said. “You were arrested for being drunk in a public place. But we are letting you go with a caution this time.” She half smiled and handed me a tray which had my phone and stuff in it.
The realization of what happened, what me and Jimmy had done, was creeping into focus. I felt relief rolling off me like a downpour. I had gotten away with it. For now at least. She handed me a cup of water.
They did a few sensory tests on me and took my pulse again. “Go to your local A & E if you feel anyway unwell later on today.”
“Ok.” I said, feeling more lucid now.
I wiped my nose with the sleeve of my jacket before stepping out into the cold morning air. I blessed myself, a thing I hadn’t done in ten years or more. My hands were trembling, and my whole body felt hollow with the cold. Luckily, I had a tenner in my pocket, a bit soggy but still legal tender in anyone’s books. It was just gone half ten so I went into a bar across the street, overtaken with the sudden compulsion for a hot whiskey, and maybe another six after that.. The bar was empty, and the smell of bleach coming from the toilets made me nauseous, on top of everything else. I sipped the boiling whiskey, feeling its malty relief all the way down my chest. I rang Jimmy from the pay phone down beside the toilets.
“Jimmy?”
I looked across the bar and the barman stood up from behind the counter. His shirt was the same deep blue as the police officer’s shirt. No epaulettes though…
“Christ, John! Where the hell are you?”
“Jimmy. What the f*ck, man? Did what I think happen actually happen?”
“It happened.”
I didn’t want to tell him I was picked up by the police because it would make him panic. It was too ironic to believe. And besides, it wasn’t necessary to tell him; it would just confuse things even more.
“Do you have the money?”
“What do you mean, Jimmy?”
“The five large I gave you last night.”
“NO.” Just then, it hit me. The whole thing rose sensibly in my head, finally. Everything became as clear as a picture.
I felt the inside sleeve of my jacket. My secret pocket. Sure enough it was there. Five thousand in 500 euro notes. How the police missed that was a mystery.
“You needed the money, John. I got it for you. We are in the clear, don’t worry.”
“But I must have been off the head. I’m only now stringing together what happened.”
“We had a few. But you did well, John. We did well. Job done.”
“So, they weren’t the guys who robbed your mother--”
“--It doesn’t matter. The world’s not worse off this morning with--”
“--Jimmy! This is not you. We aren’t those kinds of people! What in God’s name do you mean job fu*kin done?!... Worse off?...are they…” I couldn’t say it.
I inhaled deeply, trying to find some calm. A warning sign went off in my brain. One of them deep, intuitive ones you get when you sense danger. Something told me I needed to show Jimmy a brave face. Show him that I was in control of myself.
“Jim…what’s done is done.” I exhaled. “I’m in The Grainne Mhaol on Pearse St. Pick us up will ye?”
I hung up the phone.