The Return

The Return
by Josh Sherman

[ed. note: Don't worry, this blog is not going to become me posting short fiction. This piece is pretty long, and understandably intimidating. But I think it is in line with TCRM and I hope you enjoy it.]

The warden walks through the hall of lunging arms and moaning voices in a crisp dark suit. He stops two cells from the end and turns to find a fat man, a man with no hope. The man with no hope sits over the side of his bed and covers his face with his hands, his hands underneath his greasy long hair and over his graying beard. Inside his cell of gray brick walls, a door with a zigzag-ing edge is drawn in chalk opposite his bed. On the floor, a few boxes of cigarettes are glued together with fake eyes pasted to the sides.

"Prisoner 442, you have been pardoned by newly elected Governor Curtis. You are hereby released from the San Quentin correctional facility."

The man with no hope removes his face out of his hands and looks towards the warden, then to the metal bars which have begun to slide. Galink! He stares at the warden and bites his bottom lip, his eyes have welled up. He turns his head back and returns to the position he was found in.

* * * *

He pushes the door open to find a dark room, the air thick with dust, which makes him cough. A step forward and he jolts backwards - he couldn't see the spiderwebs hanging from the ceiling. A creaking sound echoes from across the room. He finds the light switch and goes to turn it on, but the switch had already been in the on position. He reaches for the matches he had picked up in the convenience store on his way home. He lights the match and in the moment of spark he sees his old friends lying around him in a large puddle of blood on the floor. He screams and loses the flame and is tackled by something small. Small wooden feet repeatedly kick him in the face. "You left us! You left us with nothing! All we had was one piece of aluminum foil. One piece of aluminum foil. One piece of...."

"... aluminum foil." The guard removes items from a large manila envelope. "You all right boss?" he asks. The man with no hope wipes some sweat from his brow, "just give me my stuff." "One ten dollar bill. One pair of loafers. One pair of gray slacks. One gray jacket, slightly torn. One white oxford shirt and one red bowtie. That should do it."

* * * *

Two guards walk him to the gate and he gazes up one last time at the tower. He walks awkwardly: his pants and jacket no longer fit, but he has nothing else to wear for now. His pants are unzipped to relieve the pressure on his belly. A taxi cab pulls up and he gets in. "Take the Redwood Highway north and stop at the Save-Stop in San Anselmo. I need to get some cigarettes." "That hasn't been a Save-Stop in 15 years, it's now a Cart-Shopper," the driver replies. "Do you think I give a damn?" He opens his backseat window and breathes in the hot breeze. His eyelids get heavy.

He arrives at the front door and finds the room dark. He turns the light switch on and the lights turn on. The house is empty. There is no evidence of a house lived in other than the discoloration on the walls where picture frames were once hung. "Where is everyone?" he yells out. He falls to the ground in tears and lies there on his side, his knees pulled up to his chest. "Where is everyone??" A voice responds "Well, here you are." He opens his eyes and looks up in confusion. "What?"

"Here you are... at the Cart Shopper." The cab driver points to the sign on the building. His passenger gets out and sees the sky has turned to dusk. The building, aside from the sign outside, looks just as he remembers it. Inside, he asks the clerk for a pack of cigarettes. "Here you go, 10 pounds of M&M's" she says. "What the hell is the matter with you? I asked for American Spirits." "Excuse me, sir, but you definitely asked me for 10 pounds of M&M's." She gives him the cigarettes and he gives her his wrinkled tender. A raucus outside catches his eye. A boy in a gray suit has just rode his bike over an old woman, who has collapsed in the parking lot where M&M's are scattered. The boy is freaking out, he jacket is torn. "Call the police!" he yells to the clerk as he runs outside. Outside, there is nothing but his cab driver waiting for him. He falls to his knees in tears. "I need to go home! They need me! I can't go to prison! They need me!" His cab driver helps him into the car and drives the man to his destination. He sits in the back seat with one hand over his heart and the other over his face.

* * * *

By the time he reaches his house, night has fallen. The cab has driven off and he guides himself to the front door by moonlight. The house is not lit up like it used to be.

He stands outside, shoulders slumped. He looks down at his suit and straightens it out a bit. He licks his hand and puts his fingers through his hair. He pushes the door forward slightly and peeks into the room. It is dark and quiet: no one is here. He steps all the way in and closes the door, puts a cigarette in his mouth and reaches for the light switch. He turns it on.

"P-p-p-p-PEE WEE!" he hears call from behind him. He doesn't bother to turn around and look: he is certain it is his imagination deceiving him, just as it had all day. "Yeah right, I'm losing my mind." "Well it's always the last place you left it!" The unlit cigarette drops to the floor. The man who had no hope smiles for the first time in years.

"CONKY!!!!"

"The secret word of the day is 'Pardon!'"

"Uhh Peee-weeee, let's play!"

"Pterri I'd love to!"

"But it's time for you to play with me Pee-Wee!"

"Magic Screen! You look beautiful!"

"What about me Pee Wee?" The silhouette of a buxom is in the doorway. She steps forward.

"Miss Yvonne! You look beautiful too!"

"I beg your pardon?" she replies.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The room screams.

"No really, old age has taken its toll on my hearing"

"Whats the matter Pee Wee - how did you get so fat?"

"Randy! I see you haven't lost your charm. Ha! You better put down that cigarette. Those things can kill you! Heheheh!"

"Hey Pee Wee baby, let's play all night
It's super great to see you, cuz you're outtasite"

"Chicky Baby! Your voice is so wonderful keep singing! I wish we could party like this forever!"

"Did someone say wish?"

"Jiambi!"

Every single of his friends was in the Playhouse, and Pee-Wee wished he could play with them for the rest of his life. And so it was. His friends had waited for him, but no one needed to know where he was. There was no time for foolish questions like that.

The man who had no hope just earlier that morning was now the happiest person in the world. Mecca lecca hi, mecca hiney ho.