Cages

by Ed Gorman

  CAGES

  By Ed Gorman

  Copyright © 1994 by Ed Gorman

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Cemetery Dance Publications

  132-B Industry Lane, Unit #7

  Forest Hill, MD 21050

  http://www.cemeterydance.com

  First Limited Edition Promotional eBook

  Artwork Copyright © 2009 by iStockPhoto.com

  Author's Note

  "Cages" just happened. I'm not sure why or how. I'm not even exactly sure what it's about. But I do know that it's a metaphor for how I've felt most of my life. I submitted it to an editor I really admire and she really liked it and battled for months with the publisher to let her run it. But he said, "This story will cost us subscribers." And you know, I think he was probably right.

  CAGES

  He knows the bad thing will happen, the way it always happens, his father coming home late and all dreamdusted up and his mother shrieking and screaming how he spent all the money on the dreamdust and then the--

  He knows when to put the pillow over his head so he will not hear when his father slams his mother into the wall and starts hitting her.

  Sometimes he tries to stop it but it never does any good. He is three foot six and has only the one arm and is no match at all for his father.

  Then in the room next to his, in the darkness, after the hitting and the screaming, there are other sounds now on the bed, grunts and sighs and whimpers and then

  Sleep.

  A dream.

  His mother and father and himself in a new car riding down the street. People pointing at them. Envious. Such a nice family. The envious people do not even seem to notice his bald head or his lone shriveled arm or the way the sticky stuff runs from his ear and

  Awake.

  Late night.

  Sirens.

  Laser blasts.

  Coppers hunting down dreamduster gangs.

  He wants to kill the man who invented dreamdust. All the misery it causes. Mrs. Caruso's daughter letting all those men stick themselves up the slit between her legs. Mr. Feinmann smashing his wife's head in with a bottle because she wouldn't give him the tips from her waitress job. Little Betty Malloy being killed by the dreamduster who put a broomhandle up her backside and then cut her up with a butcher knife.

  Night.

  Hot.

  Goes out on the fire escape.

  Tomorrow it will just start again. The argument about you fucking cunt where'd all the money go? and her shrieking you dreamdust fucker you dreamdust fucker!

  Always: money money money.

  And then he remembers the commercial on the vid. Seen that commercial a lot the last five six weeks. And always has the same thought.

  $

  $

  $

  flashing on the screen and this real loud guy telling you how you can collect them.

  All you gotta do see is

  Be so easy.

  So fucking easy.

  And then they'd have plenty of $.

  No more fights.

  No more hitting.

  He lies out on the fire escape thinking about tomorrow morning. His mother will be gone to work and so will he.

  No trouble going in the closet where

  And getting a sack

  And

  Going down to the place it says in the commercial

  And

  He can see all those fuckers who pick on him and hit him and call him faggot and mutant and all that shit

  He can see them standing enviously on the corner when he cruises by in the back seat of his parents' new car

  Fuck you

  You're the faggot

  You're the mutant

  Not me

  Fuckers

  And yes yes won't they be sorry and yes yes won't they be envious

  He wishes it was tomorrow morning already

  ***

  Bitch can't even fix me any fucking breakfast? you know how fuckin hard I work on that fuckin dock you cunt?

  Early morning battle

  Father slamming out heading for the choppy dark waters on this muggy overcast day

  Mother not long behind him

  Coming in and leaning down to his bed and giving him this wet perfume kiss and still crying from the early morning battle and because she got clipped a good one on the right cheekbone even a little bruise there

  And him going fitfully back to sleep

  And dreaming the car dream again

  And dreaming about going to see this doctor who fixes him up so he looks just like the fuckers who pick on him all the time

  Hey Quasimodo they say sometimes

  Hey hunchbacka Notre Dame little faggot

  And is awake now

  And in the bathroom taking down the underwear his mother always washes out at night him only having the one pair but no amount of washing taking the brown stains from the back or the yellow from the front

  And then moving fast

  Afraid one of them might pop back in and see what he's doing and with his sack he hurries from the apartment

  Horns and exhaust fumes and perfume and farts and fat people and skinny people and people talking to themselves and dreamdusters and gangs and whores and faggots and

  And he's hurrying fast as he can down his little street carrying his little sack and he makes it no more than half a block when he sees Ernie that fucking Ernie wouldn't you know

  And nigger Ernie steps in front of him and says, What shit you got there in that sack?

  Is scared. Isn't sure what to say. Ernie is real real tall with gold teeth and knuckles that feel like sharp rocks when they hit your skull.

  Takin back some popsies. You know get the refund.

  Popsies shit. That ain't popsies in that sack, you little fuckin mutant.

  Then Gil then Bob then Mike are there all friends of Ernie two of them be white but no matter they're every bit as mean as Ernie hisself

  And Mike grabs for the sack and says gimme it you little faggot

  Hunchbacka Notre Dame Bob says

  You heard him Ernie says give it to him

  Just a plain brown sack but you can see stains on the sides of it now damned thing leaking from inside

  Thinks he's gonna get a clear run for it starts to weave and wobble between them

  But then Gil and Mike grab him by the shoulders and throw him up against the building and

  Ernie grabs the sack from him

  And smiles with his gold teeth

  And holds the sack teasing up real high

  And says you can have it faggot if you can jump this high

  And he starts to cry but stops himself knowing that will only make it worse

  Fuckin Ernie anyway

  Nigger Ernie

  Hey asshole Mike says look inside

  So Ernie does

  Turns away

  And holds the sack down

  And opens it up

  Holy shit

  What's wrong?

  Man, you gotta see what's in this sack, man.

  So Gil takes a look. And he makes the same kinda sick face that Ernie did. Aw God. I wanna puke.

  He's afraid they'll do something to it. He keeps thinking of the place he saw on the commercial. He wants to be there now. Getting his money.

  You just bring 'em right down here for more cash $$$$ than you ever seen in your life. You just ask for Smilin' Bob. That's me.

  And reaches out to snatch the sack back.

  And gets hit fullfist by Mike.

  Please c'mon you guys please.


  Doesn't want to start crying.

  And then they start throwing the sack back and forth over their heads.

  Fuckers you fuckers he cries running back and forth between them.

  And then he sees the cop, an android, not a real person, android coppers being the only kind they'll send to a shithole like this one

  And the android senses something wrong so he comes over

  And of course Ernie and the others split because androids always want to ask a lot of questions being programmed to just that and all, and people like Ernie and Gil always having something to hide and never wanting to answer questions

  They drop his sack on the ground and take off running

  He bends and picks it up and then he starts running, too. He doesn't like androids any better than Ernie does.

  He keeps his sack pulled tight.

  By the time he gets to Smilin' Bob's, the rain has started, dirty hot city rain summer rain dirty summer rain, and he's drenched.

  And there's a line all the way out the front door and all the way down the block.

  People of all ages and descriptions holding boxes and sacks and bags. And the things inside them making all kinds of squeals and groans and moans and grunts and cries. And smelling so bad sometimes he thinks he's gonna puke or pass out.

  And then this guy dressed all in yellow with this big-ass laser gun dangling down from the long line saying, If you got somethin dangerous, you let us know in advance, folks, cause otherwise we'll just have to kill the thing right on the spot unless you warn us about it. He says this in both English and Spanish. And then just keeps walking up and down and down saying it over and over and over again.

  All the time raining its ass off.

  All the time getting bumped and pushed and kicked because he's so little.

  All the time his sack wiggling and wiggling trying to get free.

  There's a lot of talk in line:

  How this one guy heard about this other guy who brought this little sack to Smilin' Bob's and two days later the fucker was a millionaire.

  How this one guy heard about this other guy he's waitin in line here just like now ('cept it ain't rainin in this here particular story) and this fuckin thing comes right up outta this other guy's sack and kills the first guy right on the spot, goes right for his throat and tears it right out.

  How this one guy heard about this other guy said that he had two of them once that ate each other--just like cannibals you know what I'm sayin--but then they'd puke each other back up whole and start all over again. No shit. I swear onna stack of Bibles and my pappy's grave. True facts. Puked each other up and started all over again...

  Finally finally finally the rain still raining and the thing in his sack still crying, he reaches the head of the line and goes inside.

  ***

  First one this fat girl, they say no.

  What you do inside is stand in another line and when you're first up they take your sack or your box from you and carry it inside this room that's bright with a special kind of lighting and they half-close the door and they talk among themselves except Smilin' Bob himself who stands at the head of the line sayin You folks jes relax we're getting to ya fast as we can. He's got up just like on TV big-ass ten-gallon hat and western-style shirt and string tie and downhome accent.

  And when they're done with the fat girl's bag this tall pale guy comes out and shakes his head and says sorry ma'am just won't do us no good.

  Fucker you fucker you know how bad I need this money? she shrieks.

  But Smilin' Bob jes kinda leans back and says No call for talkin that way to Butch here no call at all.

  And the fat girl goes away

  And a black kid steps up and they take his box and they go inside the blinding bright room and lights flash and male voices mutter and they come back out and hand him the box and the tall pale one is wiggling and waggling his hand sayin that little fucker bit me you want me to I'll kill him for you kid. We got an easy way of doin it kid won't hurt the little fucker at all.

  But the kid snatches the box back and takes off all huffy and pissed because there's no money in it for him.

  And next and next and next and next and finally

  his turn.

  Is scared.

  Knows they're not going to take it.

  Knows he won't get no money.

  Knows that his dad'll beat the shit out of his mom tonight soon as they start arguin about money and dreamdust and shit like that.

  Smilin' Bob takes the sack and peeks inside and makes the same face Ernie did and says Well well well and my my my and I'll be jiggered I'll just be jiggered and then hands the sack over to the tall pale assistant

  Who takes it inside the bright room and starts all the usual stuff lights flashing meters clicking voices mumbling and muttering and

  Holy shit

  That's what the guy inside says:

  Holy shit. Lookit that friggin meter.

  Smilin' Bob he hears it too and he looks back over his shoulder and then back at him and winks.

  Maybe you dun brung Smilin' Bob somethin special.

  I sure hope so Smilin' Bob.

  And Smilin' Bob smiles and says: I give you a lotta money, what y'all gonna do with it anyways?

  Give it to my dad and mom.

  Well ain't that sweet.

  He's a dreamduster and they fight all the time and I'm scared some night he's gonna kill her and maybe if I get enough money and give it to my mom maybe they won't have to argue any more and

  The door opens

  Tall pale guy comes out

  Walks right over to Smilin' Bob and whispers something in his ear

  And Smilin' Bob real solemn like nods and then comes over and puts his hand on his shoulder and leads him away from the line

  You know how much we're gonna give you? Smilin' Bob asks.

  He's excited. How much?

  $500

  $$$$$$$$$

  Just like on the commercial

  That's all he can think of

  $$$$$$$$$

  How happy his Mom will be

  How proud his Mom will be

  No more arguments

  No more beatings for anybody

  $$$$$$$$

  Oh thank you Smilin' Bob thank you

  ***

  One hour and twenty-eight minutes later he's on his way home. No sweat with Ernie and those fuckers. Rainin too hard. They're inside.

  Wants to beat Mom home.

  Wants to be sittin there this big grin on his face

  And all this money sittin right on the table

  And wants to see her face

  See her smile

  And say oh honey oh honey now me'n your dad we won't have to argue no more

  Oh honey

  Which is just where he is when she comes through the door

  Right at the table

  And which is just what he's doing

  Counting out the money so she's sure to see it

  $$$$$$

  And at first she's so tired she don't even notice it

  Just comes in all weary and all sighs and says think I gotta lay down hon I'm just bushed

  And starts draggin herself past him into the little living room with all the smashed-up furniture from the last couple of fights

  And then she notices

  Out of the corner of her eye

  Says: Hey, what's that?

  Money

  Aw shit honey them cops they'll beat you sure as shit they catch you stealin like that

  Didn't steal it ma honest

  Comes closer to the table and sees just how much is there: Aw honey where'd you ever get this much money?

  And he tells her

  And she says: You what?

  Sold it

  Sold it! It ain't an "it" for one thing it's your sister

  Ain't my sister he says (but already he's feeling hot and panicky and kinda sick; not turnin out the way he planned not at all) ain't nobody's sister she's just th
is little--

  And she slaps him

  And he can't believe how terrible and rotten everything has turned out

  Where's her smile?

  Where's her sayin they won't argue no more?

  Where's her sayin what a good boy he is?

  She fuckin slaps him

  Slaps him the way the old man always slaps him

  And after he did so good too

  Gettin the money and all

  Slaps him!

  Then she's really on him

  Shakin him and slappin him even harder

  Where is she? Where is she?

  Smilin Bob's got her he says

  Who's Smilin Bob

  He's this guy on TV ma

  SHE'S YOUR SISTER YOU STUPID LITTLE BASTARD! CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT SHE'S YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD! Now you take me to this Smilin' Bob

  Never seen her like this

  Not even when the old man beats her

  All crazy screamin and fidgetin and cryin

  Grabs him and pulls him up from the chair and says: Take me to this Smilin' Bob and right now

  And so they stumble out into the early night

  And

  On the way she explains things again even though he can't seem to understand them: sixty years ago bad people put bad things into the river and ever since then some of the babies have been strange and sad and sometimes even frightening creatures, some babies (like his sister) being born so ugly that they had to hide them from the government, which is why they kept his little sister in the spare room because word would get around the neighborhood and government agents might find out and would kill the little girl

  But she isn't a little girl he says she don't even look like a little girl

  (His mother hurrying down the streets now, hurrying and jerking him along)

  And these Smilin' Bob fuckers (she says) what they do is they take in these babies and the ones they think are telepathic (or something else worth study) they sell to the government or private labs to study. They wouldn'ta paid you no $500 unless they thought she was gonna bring 'em a lot back.

  The rain has stopped. Night has come. A chill night. The neon streets shine blue and yellow and green with neons. The freaks and the geeks are back panhandling.

  As she hurries hurries

  And (she says) You was lucky and don't you ever forget it. You was lucky, the way you was born I mean, you wasn't normal but you wasn't like your sister. Nobody wouldn'ta taken you away like they woulda her.