Oblivious

by Jamie Bowers

  ‘You killed them, Joe.’ Gordy interrupted. ‘Just next door in that very bedroom you shot Gina and battered your daughter, so bad neither of them could be recognised.’ Joe’s head fell back as he still did not believe what he is being told that he did. ‘What I want to know is,’ said Gordy, still pointing the gun at Joe, ‘why have you decided to break out of prison and come here? I know you sent your little nurse friend to see Gina but I suppose you wanted to see for yourself.’ Joe leant forward and rubbed the soar mark on his leg where the handcuff rubbed.

  ‘If you have moved in, why are all of my things still here? I thought my brother would have collected my things.’

  Gordy shook his head in disagreement. ‘Don’t you get it, Joe? Nobody wants to know you. How many people have visited you in prison?’ Joe fell silent. ‘I thought so,’ said Gordy with a smile on his face, ‘nobody wants to be associated with a man who kills his entire family. You’re an evil monster and deserve to rot in windowless cell.’ Joe quickly pulled his leg, trying again to free himself from the shackles.

  ‘No!’ he shouted, ‘I didn’t kill them. The doctor says that I have a condition which is stopping me from remembering things and I might not have done it.’

  Joe was interrupted by the distinct sound of police sirens speeding down the street. With his hands on the floor behind him, he tried to push up to see out of the window, but it was no good, he couldn’t see anything.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Gordy, ‘They don’t know you’re here, yet.’

  Joe relaxed and gave a sigh of relief. ‘Why are you doing this?’ he said with pain in his face from all the injuries he has sustained. Gordy stood up and with the shotgun held in one hand stepped over to the fireplace.

  Gordy picked up the picture of Joe in his uniform and examined it thoroughly. ‘Why did you kill them, Joe?’ he asked as he continued to look at the photograph, ‘Why would a man suddenly decide to shoot his wife repeatedly and then bludgeon his daughter to death with his fists?’

  Joe looked back at Gordy and with a tear in his eye tried to explain his thoughts. ‘I don’t remember a thing. We had been to the County Fair and we started to argue. Everything after that is not clear, just small flashes of being arrested, a few things said in court and then to prison. Whilst there I was shown a newspaper article that said what happened but I don’t remember it. What do you know about it?’ Gordy stood the picture back in its place and slowly stepped around the room, looking at all the items that gave a glimpse into the life that Joe, Gina and Mary had.

  ‘When it happened I was in my shop stocking up the fruit so I didn’t see anything. A woman ran into the shop shouting that she had heard people shouting and then gunshots coming from here. Toby called the police and within a few minutes a militia of officers were in the street and the alley. I stood outside the shop and could only see a bit of what was happening. Two policemen dragged you out of your house and into a car, you were crying and all I could make out was that you shouted that Gina’s a slut and she lied to you.’

  ‘About what? What did she lie about?’ Joe asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’ replied Gordy, ‘You just kept shouting the same thing but didn’t say anything else.’ Joe’s eyes filled more and he tried to keep a straight face, but this didn’t stop the tears from rolling down his cheek.

  ‘Are you going to call the police?’ he asked as he wiped away the emotion with the palm of his hand.

  ‘No,’ said Gordy as he stepped around the room, looking at everything that once meant something to Joe, ‘I wanted you all to myself.’ Joe gulped down a large amount of air as he sat upright; wondering what was going to come next. As Gordy pushed the barrel of the gun towards Joe’s face, they were interrupted by the door to the apartment being unlocked, ‘About time.’ Gordy said as he stood up and walked out of the room clutching the shotgun firmly in his hand. Joe heard the door open and Gordy talking softly to whomever it was that arrived. He tried to stretched himself as far as the handcuffs would allow, but was unable to see who it was or hear what was being said.

  Joe was too afraid to shout for help, after all, Gordy was the one who had the gun and didn’t seem to be afraid to use it. The front door shut and was followed by the sound of footsteps going across the hallway. Joe could hear them continue to talk softly as they entered the bedroom and closed the door behind them. Looking around him, Joe couldn’t see much of anything that could help him. He spotted the material on the bottom corner of the armchair was worn away. He turned over onto his stomach and reached out in front of him as far as he could and grabbed the chair leg with his fingertips. He pulled the chair towards him and quickly ripped the cloth from underneath. Reaching his arm under the chair he rummaged his hand around in the springs, hoping to find one loose enough to free. He grabbed a strong hold of one and twisted and pulled it as much as he could, he needed to be quick as time was running out as Gordy could be back at any moment. Trying not to make a sound, Joe could feel the springs cutting his fingers and hand as he snapped one free from the frame. Taking out his hand and the spring, Joe didn’t care about the blood; he frantically took one of the sharp ends and put it into the keyhole on the handcuff around his ankle. Joe didn’t really know what he was doing but knew that this was as good a time as any to try. Turning and bending the wire into different positions, Joe kept a watchful eye on the hallway, making sure he wasn’t taken by surprise. Eventually, with blood covering most of the handcuffs and his leg he was able to unlock them and free himself.

  Without even thinking of the pain from his hand or broken leg still gave him, Joe got to his feet and walked into the hallway. The bedroom door was closed and he could see a shadow underneath the door from someone standing on the other side. He pressed his ear against the door and could hear the men talking, but nothing that he could make out. Joe took three steps backwards, ran at the door as hard as he could and rammed his shoulder through. Hurtling through the wooden entrance like a bulldozer, he quickly hit Gordy, landing on top of him. Lying on top of wooden shards and Gordy, Joe fiercely punched him in the face, knocking him unconscious. Joe grabbed the shotgun from beside him and stood up as quick as his leg would allow. He pointed the shotgun around the room and could see a man curled up on the bed like a dog in a basket. The man had his hands and arms over his head; he was shaking in fear. Joe stepped closer to him and pressed the barrel of the gun against stomach.

  ‘Who are you?’ Joe said calmly. The man didn’t respond, probably unable to hear him over the sound of his own weeping. Joe pressed the gun harder, making sure the man could feel it, ‘Who are you?!’ he said again, this time shouting to make sure he had the man’s attention.

  The man slowly took his arms away from his head, his eyes still closed tight in terror. As Joe looked at the man trembling in fright, he lowered the gun, ‘Tom?’ he said in astonishment.

  ‘Please don’t kill me,’ the man replied, with his eyes still closed tight. Joe dropped the gun on the floor which made the man jump in fright, ‘Oh my god,’ he blubbered, ‘I don’t want to be here.’

  Joe grabbed the man and pinned him on his back on the bed. ‘Open your eyes, Tom.’ He said keeping a firm grip on his arms, ‘It’s me, Joe, your brother.’ Tom slowly opened his eyes, squinting as the mixture of light and tears blurred his vision.

  ‘Joe?’ he said confused, with tears still streaming down his face ‘What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you would have been on a ferry up the coast by now?’ Joe stared down on his brother’s face, the adrenalin still pumping through his veins.

  ‘What’s going on, Tom?’ he said, ‘Why is Gordy in my house and what the hell are you doing with him? Do you have something to do with all of this?’ Tom looked at the anger in Joe’s face and knew that this was a serious question.

  ‘He has Gina,’ Tom said as his eyes filled with more tears.

  ‘What do you mean he has Gina?’ asked Joe, ‘Gina’s dead! Everyone says that I killed her, remember?’ Tom started to blubber and Jo
e couldn’t understand much of what was being said. ‘Stop crying!’ Joe shouted, ‘Just tell me what the fuck is going on.’ Tom tried his best to control his emotions.

  ‘Gina and Mary are alive, Joe.’ he said. ‘Gordy’s behind it all and he has me running jobs for him until they are released.

  ‘What?’ Joe shouted as he leant in closer to Tom, still holding his arms firmly onto the bed. ‘Tell me everything!’ Tom shed tears of terror as he tried to free himself from Joe’s clutches.

  ‘Please let go of me, Joe.’ He said as he struggled under the weight of his brother, ‘Gordy has them both held up and I’ve been working to get them free.’ Joe filled with rage as he stared down at Tom’s water filled eyes.

  ‘How could you do this to me?! I was framed and sent down and you knew about all this? What the fuck is going on, Tom?’ Tom was still in shock and found it difficult to gather and words.

  After a few moments of heavy breathing, Tom managed to control his emotions enough to speak. He drew a breath to talk just as their attention was turned to the movement from Gordy as he awoke from under the pieces of broken door. He pushed splinters of wood from his face and chest and opened his eyes to see Joe staring down on him. Joe grabbed Gordy by the shirt and quickly lifted him to his feet. Slamming him against the wall, Joe’s anger was evident.

  ‘Where is my family?!’ he demanded, pulling his shirt tight around his neck. Gordy didn’t speak, just grasped his hands around Joe’s trying to free himself from his clutches. Joe slid Gordy up the wall, lifting his feet further from the floor as he pressed his clenched fists into his throat. ‘You’ve got ten seconds to tell me what I want,’ he exclaimed, ‘or you’ll be leaving my house out the fucking window!’

  Gordy gripped Joe’s wrists and managed to wrench his arms away, just enough so he could take a breath.

  ‘She will die, Joe.’ He said as he spluttered for air, ‘If I’m not back within one hour, she dies. Tom stays with me or she dies. You keep away or she dies.’ Joe tightened his hold, pressing his knuckles harder into Gordy’s throat.

  ‘Why should I believe a fucking word that you’re telling me? I could kill you right now and I wouldn’t care.’ Before he could continue with the threats, his attention was interrupted by the sound of the shotgun being cocked. Still holding onto Gordy, his feet dangling down the wall, Joe turned his head to see his brother standing on the other side of the bed, pointing the barrel towards him.

  ‘Let him go, Joe.’ he said with panic in his voice, ‘You need to listen to him. He has her locked up and if I don’t do as he says, she dies.’ Joe continued to hold Gordy tight, looking him square in the eyes. Tom stepped towards them both, still pointing the gun at Joe’s head.

  ‘If you don’t let him go now and let us both leave, Gina is dead. He has people holding her that have orders and I pretty damn sure that they won’t think twice about doing as they’re told.’ Joe let go of Gordy, his body hit the floor hard as he gasped for air, trying to take in as much as his lungs could take.

  ‘You need to listen to your brother,’ said Gordy as he rubbed his throat, ‘my men will kill her if I am not back by two o’clock.’ He pointed to the clock on the wall above the bed, ‘It’s takes between twenty and thirty minutes to get there depending on the traffic, which means we need to leave here now if you want to see your precious Gina again.’ Joe quickly stepped over Gordy and raised his fist above his head only for Tom to grab his arm and pull him away.

  ‘He’s telling the truth,’ said Tom, pushing Joe back onto the bed, ‘we have to go.’

  ‘I can’t believe what you’re saying.’ said Joe, rubbing his brow in disbelief. ‘I thought that Mary and Gina were both dead, by my hands. I killed them and this is why I went to prison.’ Gordy lifted himself from the floor and staggered to his feet.

  ‘That was the plan.’ he said as he grabbed the shotgun from Tom and pointed it once more at Joe. ‘You see, your wife owes me thousands of dollars and I was getting the payments with interest whilst you were away. Right there in your bed. Gina would play a good tune on an old trumpet to keep me from telling anyone the trouble she was in.’ Joe stared along the shotgun barrel into the seedy eyes of the man who took advantage of his wife as he continued to tell his story. ‘It was going well, she would pay off her debts, and she would know what a real man felt like. Only thing was, you were sent home with your issues and I knew that I would no longer be getting the payments I wanted. You see, she told me about your anger issues and how you fail to recollect what had happened. I took the amazing opportunity and decided to frame your ass.’ Joe quickly stood up, wanting to strike Gordy, ‘I wouldn’t if I was you,’ said Gordy pressing the gun against Joe’s chest. ‘I have them both safe and she needs your brother to help clear the remaining payments.’

  ‘How can I believe a word you’re telling me?’ asked Joe as he sat slowly back onto the bed. Gordy smiled.

  ‘Well,’ he said as he scratched his head with one hand, still pointing the gun at Joe with the other, ‘you can’t trust me. But you can trust your own flesh and blood, can’t you.’ Joe turned and faced Tom standing in the corner, shaking in fear.

  ‘It’s true, Joe.’ He said as he scratched the palm of his hand nervously, ‘He has Gina and Mary and I have to do exactly as he says or they will both be killed.’ Gordy lowered the gun to his side and stepped towards Joe, shadowing him as he sat on the bed. ‘Your wife owes me twenty-two thousand and every day that goes by and I don’t get it, the debt gets bigger and she is closer to dying. Now, you will let me and your brother walk out of here and you don’t leave for another half an hour. I have a driver outside and if he sees you before he sees me, they’re all dead. Your wife, your daughter and even your brother here will have blood pouring out of their bodies faster than you can mop it up.’ Joe looked up at Gordy standing over him.

  ‘If you harm any of them, I will find you and I will kill you.’ He said.

  ‘I don’t doubt that for one second, boy.’ said Gordy with a grin across his face. ‘The only problem is that once I kill them, you won’t have anything worth living for, will you?’ Turning to Tom, Gordy gestured to the door.

  ‘We had best be going.’ Gordy walked out of the bedroom and Tom followed. Joe reached his hand out and stopped Tom.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Joe as he held a grip around Tom’s wrist.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Tom, ‘but I’m not going to let him hurt your family.’ Tom pulled his arm away and walked out. Joe heard the front door slam shut as the men left.

  Joe stood slowly from the bed and struggled to stand straight, the recent activities had taken its toll on his injuries. He stepped towards the door and stumbled, he was unable to put all of his weight on his leg. Dropping to his knees, Joe dragged himself through the pieces of broken wood and across the floor where he turned and sat against the wall. He looked down at his leg and could see that his blood had stained the trouser leg. Undoing his waistband, he slowly slid his trousers down his legs to his ankles. He reached his finger into the top of the dressing and slowly unwrapped it. With each unravel of bandage he cringed in pain as the pressure was released, loosening the wooden splint that held his bone together. Letting out a blood curdling scream, he pulled the last piece of material away from his skin, throwing it all to one side. Beads of sweat raced down his face as he gathered his breath before examining the damage. Joe could clearly see that his bone was still visible through the hole in his skin and blood was escaping his body with every pump of his heart. He pulled the belt from his trousers and wrapped it around his thigh, holding the end between his teeth he could see the blood flow was slowing. Still holding the belt in his mouth, Joe gathered up small pieces of wood from the carpet and crushed them in his fist. Carefully releasing the small splinters into his open wound, the pain started to become unbearable for him. He scrambled in his trouser pocket and took out the lighter that he had previously taken from a prison guard and took a deep breath as he pressed his thumb
down on the wheel. As he held the lighter, with the flame burning, he presented it to the wooden shavings on his leg, holding it for some time before it lit. As soon as the wood started to burn, it quickly sparked across his wound, causing Joe to scream once more from the pain, he held his leg still as the embers reduced, leaving his wound filled with soot where his blood once was. Joe grabbed a long piece of wood and reached it out towards the bed, catching it on the edge of the sheet. He pulled the sheet off the bed and started to tear strips from the cover. Taking each piece of material, he tied the homemade splint once again tight against his shin. Covering his entire leg with new dressing, it looked almost twice the size of his right. Joe slowly looped the belt back around his trousers, stopping every few seconds to gather his breath.

  Joe shuffled his feet backwards and slowly lifted himself up, straining to put pressure on his leg. He reached down and pulled his trousers up slowly, grimacing in pain as the waistband went up over his knee. As he fastened the top button he gripped his stomach as the sharp pains came back again. Letting out a scream of pain, Joe stumbled forward and dropped onto the bed, his eyes closing before his head hit the mattress.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As Joe slowly opened his eyes, he could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall, the sharp sound echoed as he lifted his head from the mattress. His vision became clearer and he could see the clock, the hands indicating the time as six-forty. Joe rolled himself onto his back, stretching out his body from the well-deserved rest, even though it had been forced upon him by his troubled ailments. Sitting up, he rubbed his hand across his stomach, still feeling a dull pain, but nothing as bad as he had felt before. He stood up from the bed and took a moment to look at the remnants of damage across the floor, along with his bloody bandages. He walked out of the bedroom and slowly went from room to room, making sure that nobody was still there, ready to surprise him. The kitchen was the last room he went in to, he was alone. Besides the noise from the refrigerator motor, it was silent.