The Son of Man

  The secretary dropped her chin and looked over her glasses. “I’ll try, but as I said, he’s very busy right now.” She lifted the phone. “Dr. Rossetti, Dr. Oliver is here. He says he needs to talk— Right now?” The secretary hung up the phone, looked up at the young doctor and shrugged. “He says he’ll see you now.”

  “Hmm,” Oliver grunted, moving towards Rossetti’s office door.

  “Be easy on him,” the secretary said. “You can’t stay long. He’s been feeling under the weather lately.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  ~~~

  The secretary sat at her desk listening to the soft voices flowing from the administrator's office. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but it sounded sharp and intense. Her curiosity roused, she quietly stood and moved closer, charily placing her ear against the door.

  “I’m telling you, it won’t happen again.” Rossetti said.

  “I certainly hope not!” young doctor Oliver yelled back. “I was beginning to wonder if I had made myself clear!”

  “Yes, yes you have; perfectly clear.”

  “I need full access if I am to help my patient. Full access, do you understand?”

  “Of course I understand. It was just a mix-up, that’s all.”

  Rossetti’s secretary all but fell forward into the office when the door blasted open. Oliver looked down at her, quickly sidestepped and moved into the reception area. He walked briskly through the office and disappeared into the hallway.

  The secretary turned to look back and saw Dr. Rossetti sitting in a chair across from his desk. He was wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “Dr. Rossetti,” she said, “are you alright?”

  Rossetti stared into space for a time. “Uh, no Penny,” he said finally, “I’m not alright. I think I’ll go home for the afternoon.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No I just need to get out of here for a while.”

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  Rossetti looked up. “If you see him again, give him whatever he wants.”

  “Of course, doctor,” the secretary said slowly.

  Rossetti stood and moved to his office closet. He retrieved his suit jacket and walked out the door.

  ~~~

  Dr. Oliver wasn’t surprised to find the big nurse waiting at the forbidden door.

  She looked at him curiously. “Sorry,” she said, leaning forward to unlock the door. She turned and made her way down the hall leaving Oliver standing alone.

  He stared at the door, his heart pounding in his chest. For weeks, this moment had been all he could think of. The time had finally arrived. He reached for the handle, paused and pulled his trembling hand back. He turned and looked up and down the hall once more. Finally, he sighed and pushed the door open.

  He could hear the TV softly chattering as he moved past the room divider. A young woman sat staring out the window. She turned to look at him as he approached. Her startling beauty took him completely by surprise. He narrowly avoided tripping as he kicked one of the legs on the bed. The loud clang unnerved him even further. He felt panicky.

  She looked him up and down before returning to the window. “Who are you?” she said, her back towards him.

  “I…I….”

  She looked back at him. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

  “I…yes, I am…Dr. Oliver.” The young doctor stopped and breathed deeply. “I’m sorry. Let me try that again.” He looked up to see her radiant, cherubic face smiling back at him.

  “Cat got your tongue?” she asked.

  Dr. Oliver silently stared into her eyes.

  Finally, she raised her eyebrows and leaned forward. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Mrs. Rose?”

  “Yes, I’m Maria Rose and you are?”

  “I’m Dr. Oliver, the new attending physician—”

  “I won’t need attending,” Maria said. “There’s nothing wrong with me. But you know that already don’t you.”

  Oliver didn’t answer.

  Maria slowly turned and resumed her vigil at the window.

  The young doctor reached and began nervously fiddling with Maria’s chart left hanging at the foot of her bed. Finally, he squared his shoulders, silently commanded his hands to stop trembling and spoke. “Mrs. Rose,” he said, a little louder than before.

  Maria ignored him.

  “Mrs. Rose, I’m here to help you.”

  “Good,” she said quickly. “When can I leave?”

  “Well…I mean…you can’t leave…I just mean—”

  “If I can’t leave…there’s nothing you can do for me.”

  “How have you been feeling?”

  “Like an imprisoned pregnant whale,” she said. “Why have you people put me in this place?”

  Again, Oliver didn’t answer.

  She looked back and sat glaring at the young doctor.

  “Uh…” the doctor stammered, “I think they had you committed…so they could—”

  “Keep me locked up!” Maria said.

  Oliver nodded slightly. He shifted his weight, reached again for the chart but stopped himself.

  Maria turned back towards the window.

  “If you’re not into this right now I can check you tomorrow.”

  “Wonderful,” Maria said, returning to the window.

  Oliver turned to leave.

  “Are you with the Vinces?” Maria asked.

  Oliver turned back. “Yes.”

  “Why have you people done this to us?”

  “Uh, as I understand it, you and your husband were about to leave the area—”

  “So,” Maria said, “you commit us to a psychiatric hospital? You think you can do that? You think you can get away with that?”

  “You need to understand,” he said. “Most of the people involved with the organization are good folks, but there are a few who are… obsessed. They’re paranoid, dangerously powerful people. Most of our group aren’t even aware of them and those of us who are, don’t always agree with their methods.”

  “You don’t agree with their methods but you’re here.” Maria said.

  Dr. Oliver looked down at the floor.

  “Where’s my husband?”

  “I…I’m not sure.”

  “Why don’t you guess?”

  “Honestly Ma’am, I don’t know.”

  “Is he here?”

  “Is your husband here in this hospital?”

  “Yes!” she demanded, “Is my husband here in this hospital?”

  “I don’t think so…”

  “THEN WHERE THE HELL IS HE?” she shrieked.

  Dr. Oliver jumped. “I…I just don’t know.”

  Maria glared at him for a time then returned to her window.

  Dr. Oliver stood behind her silently looking into her raven hair. He quietly backed away and left the room. Once outside he collapsed against the wall, tears flowing from his eyes.

  ~~~

  Todd wasn’t sure, it might’ve been a week since he had been thrown into his tiny cage. The only hint had come from his daily feedings by way of a small notch in the heavy steel door. He had been thinking about Maria. Where was she? Would he ever see her again? Before, he’d hoped someone would find out he’d been imprisoned illegally. They couldn’t keep him from a lawyer forever. At some point, someone would find out about him and Maria, but now he was a drug smuggler…or worse, a dealer. It was open and shut. The drugs were under his bed. Everyone knew the drugs weren’t his, but if he had told the guards the truth, he would’ve been dead by now, or something worse.

  During the day, a little bit of light managed to filter through, but it seemed pitch black most of the time. It had taken him forever to get the mace out of his face and eyes. When they first threw him in there, he couldn’t find the sink. He was able to flush his eyes out using water from the stainless steel toilet placed in the middle of the six-by-eight cell.

  The second day he had spent in a stupor. It seeme
d like years since he and his beautiful Maria had spent the day picnicking on the Cumberland. At one point, he even decided to cry out to God, but God didn’t have anything to say. Now he just lay on his bed in the dark, thinking dark thoughts. He didn’t think he wanted to live anymore. He was looking at ten years or more for drug possession. That was, if the asteroid didn’t kill him. He didn’t think he could find the strength to live with people like Hector, Madrid and Tacoma and he knew he didn’t want to live without Maria. The trap in the door flew open. He jumped. It was breakfast, lunch or dinner, he wasn’t sure.

  “Hey!” a voice sounded from outside of the door. “Get on the phone!”

  Todd didn’t have any idea what that meant, but he was amazed to hear a voice again. “Huh?”

  “Get on the phone,” the voice repeated. “Somebody wants to talk to you.”

  “What…what do you mean?”

  “Take your paper cup,” the voice said, “and empty your toilet. Somebody wants to talk to you.”

  “Empty my toilet?”

  “Don’t say that too loud, it’s against the rules.”

  “Ok,” Todd said. “Should I do it now?”

  “I don’t care when you do it!” the voice on the other side of the door boomed.

  Todd heard the guard turn and walk away. He sat on his bunk for a moment eating one of his two pieces of warm bologna. He felt around and found something gooey on his paper plate, tasted it, and decided it was probably potato salad.

  When he had finished licking his plate clean, he felt his way towards the toilet and began bailing water into the attached sink. It didn’t take him long to empty the tiny toilet bowl. He was able to reach deep into the plumbing and pull water out with the cup of his hands. Finally, when he was sure he couldn’t get any more water out of the commode, he put his face in the toilet and hollered. “Hello, anyone there?”

  No one answered.

  “Is anyone there?”

  Still no answer.

  He waited a few minutes. “Is anyone there?” he asked, louder.

  “Hey bro’.” A husky African-American voice came from the commode. “Don’t be yelling now, we’ll both be doin’ more time in the go-slow.”

  Todd smiled. He couldn’t believe it was working. “Who is this?”

  “This is Leland. Who are you?”

  “My name is Todd.”

  Todd sat staring into the commode, waiting for a response. “Are you the one who wanted to talk to me?” he said finally.

  “Yeah,” Leland said, his voice echoing in the plumbing, “that be me.”

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Well,” Leland said softly, “that’s why they call this place the go-slow. It gets sort of lonely sometimes. It’s good to have somebody to talk to. You down?”

  “Yeah I sure do know what you mean. Where are we?”

  “We’re in the shoe; security housing unit, the go-slow.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Long time, maybe three weeks.”

  “No,” Todd said. “Can they keep you here that long?”

  “They can keep you here as long as they want.”

  The two men were silent for another moment. “Have you heard anything about the asteroid?” Todd finally asked.

  “No, I think they’re still on their way to it.”

  Todd stood, pulled the pillow off his bunk, threw it on the floor in front of the commode and sat on it. “I guess I probably shouldn’t ask why you’re in the go-slow.”

  “A little misunderstanding. And you?”

  “Drugs, they found them under my bunk.”

  “I thought that was you,” Leland said.

  “What?”

  “You’re the ding Hector played.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “My whodi pulled your card.”

  “Huh?”

  “Everybody knows you were played, homey. Good thing you didn’t wheeze.” You got a little tune up, but it’s better than bein’ wetted.”

  “Sorry,” Todd said. “I got no idea what you just said.”

  “What part?”

  “All of it. What does ding mean? How come I’m a ding?”

  “Oh yeah,” Leland said chuckling, “you’re a Ding. That means you’re new… un-tested.”

  “What does wetted mean?”

  "Gittin’ wetted means going flat…or…you know…getting killed.”

  Todd paused a moment. “What’s a tune up?”

  “That’s when you get beat down by the hacks…or the…what-you-call-em…guards.”

  “I’m guessing wheezing means ratting on somebody,” Todd said. “Even I know better than that.”

  “Yeah, that’s what that means.”

  Todd took a moment to rearrange his legs, then said: “So, what you’re saying is, around here, I’m all hat and no cattle and I need to keep my holler hole buttoned, or wind up tuggin’ a polecat on a short rope.

  Todd grinned at the sound of Leland’s hearty laughter echoing through the plumbing.

  “The go-slow got itself a full-up cowboy,” Leland said, still laughing. “All hat and no cattle! That’s some funny.”

  The go-slow settled back into relative silence.

  “Why are you in prison?” Todd asked finally.

  “Murder.”

  “Whoa,” Todd said, under his breath. They stopped talking for a time. Todd was hesitant to ask for details but remembered it was Leland who wanted to talk in the first place. “Who’d you kill?”

  After another pause Leland answered, “Lotsa’ folks.”

  Todd leaned away from the commode, stared into the darkness and returned to his place in front of the toilet. “So, what do you do in here all day long?”

  “I’ll tell you what I do,” Leland said. “I talk to the Lord.”

  “Who?”

  “I talk to the Lord, from whom all my strength cometh.”

  Todd wasn’t sure what Leland had said until he began speaking in seventeenth century English. “Oh,” he said, a little disappointed. He was hoping for a normal, stimulating conversation.

  Again, there was a pause.

  “Does the Lord ever answer?” Todd asked finally.

  “Every time.”

  “How come He won’t answer me?”

  “What makes you think He don’t?”

  “Cause I’m still here in this funky dark little closet.”

  The two inmates stopped talking again. “I guess you’re pretty religious?” Todd said finally, breaking the silence.

  “I’m a Christian, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Have you always been that way?”

  “No, I haven’t always been a Christian.”

  “What were you like a Buddhist or something?”

  “You gotta understand, my friend, being a Christian isn’t just being religious. Being a Christian isn’t something you inherit from your parents…know what I’m sayin? Heaven is a kingdom and Jesus Christ is the king. Christians are people who have chosen to be a part of His kingdom, that’s all.”

  “How did you wind up a Christian?”

  There was a short pause before Leland finally spoke. “I grew up in Calliope.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Uptown New Orleans; the projects. There were only two types of people around the way, strong and victim and I learned real quick to be strong. I was hard when I was a kid but when I finally grew up I rocked the projects, you down? I was the buckest in my building…maybe even the hood. Around the way, being buck didn’t mean you had muscles. You had to kill folks to be buck in my neighborhood.” Leland fell silent for a time before he continued.

  “It wasn’t long before I’m in Joliet, and it didn’t take long before I’m the buckest cat there. They finally wound up putting me in a maximum-security prison. I was the buckest there too. Finally, it was a cage by myself. That’s when I realized, the only thing being buck ever got me was a private cage. Turns out I wasn’t bu
ck at all, you down. Turns out, I was no more than a mangy junkyard dog, see what I’m sayin? The harder I pulled, the tighter the chain.”

  Leland took a moment and continued. “I tried checkin’ out a couple times back then, know what I’m sayin’? But thank God I didn’t get it done. I finally cried out to my creator. At first, I was pissed off at him, you down? But somewhere in all that yelling and cursing I guess I asked him to help me. Without even realizing it, I opened the door and Jesus Christ walked through. There was no question; I felt him; I felt his love.”

  Todd was surprised to hear Leland’s voice trail off. He listened closely. He thought he could hear the man sobbing.

  Finally, Leland returned. “The lord taught me that hating folks was easy, loving was hard, that tearing down was easy, building up was hard, that any ding with a cap could kill, but it took a lifetime of learning to help people heal, you down? Everything I thought I knew…my whole world was upside and backwards. But the Lord came in and straightened me out. Praise be to his Holy name.”

  Todd rolled his eyes. Why did these people have to get so…carried away? He thought about Leland’s words in silence. “The damn asteroid is probably gonna’ kill us all anyway,” he said, after a long pause.

  “You two knock it off!”

  The voice coming from just outside Todd’s cell startled him. The guard wrapped his stick against the metal door of the cell. “Andy’s starting his shift. You two shut up now!”

  ~~~

  Payload commander Joyce Shipley strained against a shelf partially blocking a Trawler portside window. “I can’t see it yet. I guess I’ll have to wait ‘till we come around a little more.”

  “You should see it anytime now,” Trawler commander Andrea Lange said, as she carefully checked and rechecked system data.

  “Look at that thing,” Palm said.

  “I wish we’d had more time,” Commander Lange said softly. “It’s really gonna’ be tough fastening to that surface. No one has ever done anything like this before. How are you supposed to train for something like this?”

  Palm glanced at Lange. The tension in her face was obvious. “You ok?”

  “Huh? of course I’m ok. Why do you ask?”

  Palm looked at Shipley and back at Commander Lange. “It’s ok, you don’t have to be so tough all the time.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about, Specialist Palm?”

  “I’m just saying—”

  “You’ll shut up and attend to your duties, that’s what you’ll do!”

  Mission Specialists Aubrey Clawson and Tony Higbee looked up in response to Lange’s sudden, uncharacteristic outburst.