Sudden Lockdown

by Amos Talshir

  Simon compared the minister of health to his father as the man began to flirt with Rose. He was a very slim man, with very deep eyes. You could sense them infiltrating the skin of anyone at whom he was staring. His dark suit almost managed to conceal the hump on his back. Simon noticed it. The man moved toward his target with immense confidence, standing very close to his interlocutor. He was just a breath away, engulfing his conversation partner with the motions of his agile hands, which slowly and precisely mimed the bars outlining the boundaries of his victim’s existence. But there was also that other, special thing, prominent to the eye, and certainly to Simon’s eye: the man had a winning gentleness to him. Not an exaggerated one, but he was, without a doubt, gentle. His father, Charlie, was not so gentle. Or perhaps was not gentle at all, maybe quite the opposite, Simon considered. No, there was something else about Charlie that might be incorrectly interpreted as gentleness. It was reserve. Charlie was a very reserved man. You could even make the mistake of thinking he was cool and collected. People would come ask for help from the man in the house on the bluff; their boat was stuck, or someone had been hurt in the rocks. After Charlie rescued them, in utter stillness, they would mention his composure, marveling loudly how he had dived for a long time, keeping calm, and fixed the motor, or how he had dangled down between the rocks at the end of a rope and rescued a girl who had tripped and fallen. Simon knew his father’s mind was storming, his heart simmering and his soul turbulent, but he restrained himself. Overcoming his fear as he descended from the bluff, freezing his own blood when he encountered violence and holding his breath during the long dive. Dad knew how to hold back and did so with women as well. When he and Mom had split up, Simon was already a teenager who had begun to feel attracted to his classmate Annette and to be interested in matters of that sort. When he had returned with Dad from the long swim as evening approached, he sensed a flutter of interest around him from the women who spent time on the beach. The compliments were aimed at Charlie, but he was reserved, dedicated to Simon, and courteously dismissed the flattering invitations. Dad was reserved.

  Simon was impressed by the minister of health’s self-confidence, by the courting dance he spun around Rose and by his gestures, rounded and caressing. Rose picked up on Simon’s amusement, and his smile at that moment truly won her over. All the tension and fatigue weighing down her honeyed eyes dissipated suddenly, and once again, she resembled the fleeting gazelle who had just started her naked run with renewed energy. She winked at Simon as if saying, I’m going to demand an explanation for this exuberance of yours, just you wait.

  “Young lady, I’m getting a sneaking feeling that you’re familiar to me,” the minister buzzed with an artificial charm that illuminated Simon’s face with glee as he watched him from the sidelines.

  “Do you mean personally familiar, sir?”

  “I would be happy to answer in the affirmative,” the minister said, pleased with his clever phrasing.

  “I’m familiar to a hundred thousand people in a very personal way.”

  “A bit more decorum wouldn’t hurt here,” said the minister of health.

  “Minister, sir, decorum is the last thing we need here. First of all, you know me, and you know I’ve managed to gain your attention, I hope, through my protest streaking…”

  “Uhhhmmm,” the gentleman murmured. “You and your naïve freedom resistance.”

  “Besides that, sir, I understand you’re embarrassed that you can’t get me in bed, or at least order your security detail to toss me out, far away from you.”

  “What can I do for you two?” the minister asked, surprisingly businesslike.

  “Sir, can you explain to us what’s going on here?”

  “As I said, we’re all in the same boat.”

  “In other words, you have no idea,” Rose concluded. “In that case, my friend has something to say to you.”

  “Minister, sir, pardon my pathetically poor language. I want to talk to the president,” Simon said.

  “You?”

  “I’m sure the president will be happy to talk to me.”

  “And why would he want to talk to you?”

  “Because he’s sick of talking to you, the members of the government, since you’re not providing him with answers, and because he’s sick of floating around in space, and he’ll be happy to know what I think,” Simon declared defiantly.

  “And you’re willing to tell him what you think?” the minister asked.

  “Only if he’ll tell me everything he knows.”

  “You think you’re capable of understanding everything the president knows?”

  “I think the president of the United States didn’t understand the meaning of the planes hitting the Twin Towers, either, so there’s no advantage to your position, Minister of Health, sir. He thinks within the limitations of his significant capability, and I think with no limitations because I don’t have any capability. I really am asking you to pass this on to him. There’s a chance he’ll understand.”

  “Very clever. Your thinking has no limitations because you have no capability, and therefore you have no capability limitation.” The minister smirked. “I’ll pass this on to him, but I’m not sure your offer is tempting enough.”

  “We’re in no hurry.”

  The minister turned toward the restroom facilities, trying to imbue the walk with importance. He would have been happy to have a bodyguard accompany him.

  “I wonder if, before they took off, the security detail would go to the bathroom with them,” Rose whispered.

  “I’m sure they did.”

  “Right into the stall?”

  “No, outside the door.”

  “Simon, why did you smile like that when he started to flirt with me?”

  “I suddenly saw you through the eyes of someone else who wants you, and it made me laugh.”

  “What’s funny about it?”

  “A hundred thousand people watched you naked, and I didn’t even think about it, but when he was messing with you, I suddenly felt that thing.”

  “What’s that thing?”

  “Jealousy,” Simon said, growing silent.

  Rose expected Simon to say something else. Something pleasant, perhaps, that would imbue more warmth in her body, which had still not recuperated from the chill of that night, and make her feel better. Better that she had felt naked, before eyes that had ravaged her, uninterested in the idea of the resistance she had borne on her body. She wanted her body for herself and for the one who would truly love her; just one person, and it certainly wasn’t David, who hadn’t come to her aid when she had collapsed alone on the pitch, and apparently not this Simon, either. He was just a kid.

  “You think he’ll pass your request on to the president?”

  “I think he’ll be happy to tell the president he saw that girl who was streaking outside their box. Men always talk about things like that.”

  “And what’s going to happen?” Rose asked.

  “That depends on your president. If he’s a serious man, he’ll start a conversation about you and about what happened with you right outside the door, and that will encourage the minister of health to tell him about my smart-ass offer, like it was a joke. They think it’s cool, mixing sex and business. It makes them feel like they’re not just dirty old men.”

  “And he’ll agree?”

  “Depends what kind of guy he is.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “What can you tell me about your president, other than the fact that he’s not a democratic president, and all the politics around that? What do you really know about him, about his life before he became a president or a politician?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can do a lot with information. Our prime minister served in the army with my father’s uncle. The uncle told me he was such a liar, about unimpo
rtant things. It was important to him to make sure everything was fine and that everyone would love him, so he lied…”

  “Like what, for example?”

  “In the army tent, at night, before they went to sleep, they talked about some final game in a basketball tournament, and he said he was at the game because he was going to school in the United States during those years. Later my uncle found out that he’d gotten it wrong and there actually was no such final game that year, so the student prime minister couldn’t have watched it.”

  “Is that important?”

  “The game was canceled because President Kennedy was assassinated,” Simon said.

  “The assassination is important, I know that, but I’m asking why it was so important whether there had or hadn’t been a game.”

  “The truth is important. Our prime minister was tempted to lie in order to please people. If your president is willing to hear the truth, he’ll talk to me. Because he knows everyone around him is lying to him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he knows he’s a dictator and that’s why they lie to him.”

  “What could he tell you that you don’t know?”

  “Every dictator has an escape route out of any place he’s in.”

  “You’re thinking about escaping from the stadium?” she asked in fright.

  “Obviously,” Simon replied. “It’s time.”

  “They shoot those who run away.”

  “They shoot whomever they want.”

  “Are you really just sixteen and a bit?”

  “There, your minister’s returning, all emptied out.”

  “You’re still here?” the minister wondered, passing by them.

  “We’re waiting for the president,” Rose said.

  15.

  Veronica wanted to introduce Charlie to her companion. He was in his seat, writhing in pain, and extended a limp hand toward Charlie, who shook it warmly. Charlie had recognized his seatmate for a few days now, but he couldn’t remember exactly why he was familiar. Not immediately. The man smiled at Charlie, his lips slack, trying to rearrange his large body in his seat.

  “Nice to meet you—Clebber,” he said.

  Charlie was certain the man was hiding something. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he had a feeling he had seen photos of this man in the papers, at home. Right, he remembered, something to do with banks and employees being laid off. Veronica was happy to tell Clebber about the relief she was feeling, and enthusiastically thanked Charlie for his help. Clebber said he himself would have been happy to freshen up a bit, but unfortunately, he hadn’t, and he was all full of pressure and pains. Charlie encouraged him to get up and take action, describing the safe, simple route he needed to take to the faucets and the restrooms. From the short conversation that Veronica tried to conduct with Clebber, about the way to the restrooms, her wonderful feeling and other simple things, such as the joy of the running water, Charlie realized there was a whole other problem going on here. They were not as close as they were pretending to be.

  Veronica announced she wanted to stretch her legs a bit, and that she was going to go jog on the pitch in order to stay fit. Charlie suggested she return immediately once the lights went out in order to avoid getting in trouble with them. She ran toward the turf and Charlie sat down next to Clebber.

  “You know what my problem is?” Clebber asked Charlie once they were on their own, sitting in their plastic chairs.

  “I think so,” Charlie said. “It’s the same one we all have.”

  “I don’t think so,” Clebber said, repositioning himself in order to somewhat ease the pain in his body. He tilted his head toward Charlie’s shoulder, motioning him to come closer.

  “I met her at the gym and suggested she fly with me to see the game, you know, on the spur of the moment. I have no idea what I was thinking. I don’t know her at all.”

  “She’s a nice woman,” Charlie said.

  “That’s true, very nice. Even special, kind of childish, takes everything easy. Speaks a few languages, French, Spanish, and our language too.”

  “She also knows a lot about poetry,” Charlie added, perhaps in order to enhance Clebber’s good feeling.

  “Do you know a lot about poetry?” Clebber asked.

  “Only what Veronica explained to me. Wars go on into the winter even if they break out during the summer.”

  “That’s it?”

  “And also that people have a hard time finding their place.”

  “Who?”

  “Veronica, for example,” Charlie said.

  “If you know enough about poetry, it might help you more in life than anything else,” Clebber said. “Look, I know all about diets and banking, too, and it doesn’t do me any good at all.”

  “Any good in what way?” Charlie asked.

  “You know, I go to this gym of Veronica’s every morning for years now, hoping to drop seventy or ninety pounds, even twenty. I’m just dying to get rid of all this pressure that’s weighing me down. I diet and exercise and I keep feeling crappy and hating myself.”

  Clebber grew silent. Charlie continued to observe his big, babyish face, waiting for him to continue. The big man remained still, gazing expectantly at the pitch. He looked like an overgrown child waiting for a happy surprise. Charlie liked this fat man-boy who had taken his fitness instructor out to a soccer game. He hoped for his sake that she would come through for him unexpectedly, and perhaps they could have fun together. At age forty, or nearly forty, Charlie already knew that the relationship between a man and a woman was not an insurance policy. Much to his chagrin, he had learned that a meeting between an energetic, handsome young man and a pretty blonde girl did not guarantee a stable romance. While in the past, he had believed everything could be simple, he had realized that from the moment two people came together, everything began to get complicated. At least for him. It was now, of all times, in the stadium that seemed to threaten everything he knew, that he experienced a sneaking hope that things might be different for this heavyset man-child and the woman who loved poems. She struck Charlie as the sort of uncomplicated woman who would make this chubby guy happier.

  “It’d be good if you could lose weight,” Charlie said.

  “I’ve already lost six hundred and sixty pounds in ten years, and put on seven hundred and seventy, and the bank also keeps getting heavier and crushing me under it. Until one good thing happened at the gym. Veronica started to notice me. She threw out a suggestion for an exercise with weights, and then showed me how to work on the slipped disc that’s always a risk for me. She’s nice and mellow with her concern. She looks at my belly and helps me do push-ups, touches my pelvis so I can feel the lower back exercise, then goes off to do her own exercises. It’s been years since anyone’s touched me like that. Forget about touching, since they’ve looked at me; I don’t even look at myself, I’m so ashamed. And with her, it’s nothing at all. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it. Pushing, straightening, stretching and touching and smiling and talking nonsense, and I feel better. I even started to feel like the weight of the bank is easing off me.”

  “Does she work at the gym?”

  “No. She’s got a good heart, kind of childish. She sees this fat, gross guy, and it seems okay to her. Like a task she’s taking on. She tells me, do that so you don’t die, strengthen this so you don’t get a heart attack. Do this exercise so women will love a tall guy like you, and shed some pounds here so they’ll see your cute smile. She’s a smiling, happy angel and I feel good. Hey, Charlie, you know what it means to me, to say I feel good?”

  “She makes you feel good,” Charlie mumbled back.

  “And that’s my problem. I thought it was just a quick trip and then I’d be back home with my wife that same night, and I’ve had a nice little jaunt. Now what do I tell my wife?” Clebber breathed heavily, constantly rubbing his
hands together as if rinsing them in water. “It’s not like I have anything to hide, I’ve got nothing going on with Veronica, but think about how it looks. I haven’t even called home to explain what’s going on here because I never even said I was flying to the game. Why’d I take the leap? Because for the first time in twenty years, some girl smiles at me because of my slipped disc. Look at the trouble I’ve gotten myself in.”

  “Clebber, your wife’s the least of your problems,” Charlie said. “Start getting used to other problems.”

  “That can’t be right. Ever since I can remember myself, I think through her mind. I see myself through her eyes, I want to lose weight because of her gaze, the bank stresses me out because of her expectations. I’m here with Veronica because of her. Nothing bad can be that bad.”

  “Do you have kids?”

  “We can’t. We’ve been in treatment for years now. It’s killing me. I think about it when I see a mother and child, and it just gnaws at me, and when I’m not thinking about it, I’m thinking about my diets.”