The Room (33 page)

Read The Room Online

Authors: Jr Hubert Selby

Q

And you are sure the street light was burning?
A

Absolutely.
Q

But didnt that cast a shadow in the doorway making it difficult to see?
A

There were lights on in the store window.
Q

Are you

PROSECUTOR
Your honor, all these facts have been previously testified to and proven by expert witnesses. The Department of Water and Power has testified that the street lights were burning; the burglar alarm company has testified that the alarm would have sounded if the lights in the window were not burning; we have the report from the United States Weather Bureau and I see no reason why the witness should be badgered with these superfluous questions.
COUNSEL
Your honor, I was just try

COURT
The court agrees that this line of questioning is unreasonable and unnecessary. I would also like to remind the defendant that he insisted on acting as his own defense counsel in spite of the contrary advice of the court and the availability of a public defender. I will make an exception in this case, for obvious reasons, and ask the defendant, again, at this time, if he would like to be represented by counsel for the remainder of the trial.
DEFENDANT
No, your honor, that will not be necessary.
COURT
Then I will advise the defendant, for the last time, that the proper trial procedures will be followed or the court will hold the defendant in contempt. Proceed.

I shouldve just bashed their fucking heads together and walked away

and dont give us any of your lip buddy. Just get in the car. We’ll tell you why later.

Just shove you around like you were nothing.

Thats a good doggies. Beg. Beg you flattopped bastards.

Q

And you say you saw someone, or something, in the doorway of Kramers Jewelry store and told your partner to stop the car?
A

Not exactly. He was in the process of stopping for a red light as we approached the intersection. It was then that I saw a man in the doorway.
Q

How can you be sure it was a man?
A

From the way he was dressed and his features.
Q

And thats the only reason?
A

Well, I didnt undress him if thats what you mean.
COURT
Order. Order. Order in the court.

All they want to do is railroad you. Thats the way they operate. No matter how hard you fight them the rotten bastards knife you in the back and then laugh in your face. They dont care. Like that poor sonofabitch that stole forty dollars from the government and they sent him away for a year and a day. A lousy, stinking forty dollars and they gave him a year. It could have been forty cents. Its all the same to them. Yeah, like that poor slob who stole a couple of boxes of cookies and they kept him in jail for a couple of years waiting to go to trial. The poor bastard may still be in there for all I know. Or anyone knows. The only way you can beat them is if you steal millions, then they love you. Then everyone respects you for being a smart businessman and a success. And if you get caught you get a whole roomful of smart lawyers and you go free. Or maybe they fine you a few dollars and slap you on the wrist. But if you dont have the money for a lawyer youre
s.o.l. And thats it. Youre just shit out of luck. You bet your sweet ass that none of those big-time lawyers are going to help you if you dont have thousands of dollars to give them for a few days work. Theyd rather see you rot in jail the rest of your life and laugh while they sit around their swimming pools sipping their goddamn martinis. I could just see some lawyer like Stacey Lowry defending someone like me. Yeah, I could just see him stooping that low. Fat chance. Hes too high and mighty to bother with me. That would be beneath his dignity. He wouldnt want to soil his hands. Suppose he lost the case. He wouldnt have fifty thousand dollars to comfort him. Theyd rather let someone else lose the case. They dont care who, and they dont care who goes to jail. Just as long as they dont lose the case.

And they wont let you defend yourself. They know you could do a better job than a public defender. You bet your sweet ass they do. But they pull that legal mumbo jumbo because theyre afraid you might do a better job than the jerk they appoint to defend you. So they throw all their technicalities at you whenever you get them on the ropes. They have their own rules and thats it. They dont care about anything else. They just wont give you a chance to prove theyre wrong. No matter how far back in the corner you shove them they throw another one of their rules at you. You just cant win. No matter what you do its not what they want. Krist, what in the hell do they want from you. Why do they do this? Over and over again. Jesus. And its always the same. Over and over again. You do this, you do that, and its never what they want. And theyre always hounding you about it. I dont understand it. I just dont understand. I try. Krist, Im always trying, but something always happens. Some screwy thing is always happening to me. No matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I always end up sucking hind tit. Every goddamn time. And they dont even try to understand me. What do they want from me. No matter what I do it isnt good enough. Im always wrong. And theyre always telling me how to do it. Always the same smart-ass bullshit. Well, if it didnt work that way, why dont you do it this way? They can never mind their own business. Theyre always telling you how to do it. No matter what in the hell it is, they always want to tell you how to do
it. They wont just leave you alone and let you do it your way. No. Not them. They always have a better way. Well, Ive always done it this way and I never have any trouble. What a crock. Over and over again. They never change. Always telling you to do it their way. They get you so damned screwed up that something always goes wrong. Every damn time. They always manage to ruin everything and you end up with a big nothing. Over and over again, everything ends up nothing. No matter what you do it always ends up like this. I tried. I always tried. I know I did. Always. But somehow everything I touch turns to shit. There just doesn’t seem to be any point to it. To anything. Whats the use in trying? Its just going to get all screwed up anyway. Theres always someone hanging over your head telling you youre not doing it the right way. Always. I know I could have those cops begging for mercy if the judge would leave me alone. But he wont. In five minutes I could have those cops so confused they wouldnt know which side was up, but the lousy d.a. would be objecting all over the place and the judge would be telling me I cant do this and I cant do that. Its not the proper procedure, or some damn thing. No matter what you do youre wrong. Its weird. Like its a crime to breathe or something. Krist, its not my fault. I was just a kid. I didnt know. All I knew was I wanted a new overcoat. I didn’t know about money. Yeah, yeah. I know she was probably all torn up inside because her son was crying for a new coat. But I didnt know. Not then. How was I supposed to know they couldn’t afford it? I said Im sorry. What do you want from me? O.K. O.K. Im sorry. Forget it, willya? So I didnt really need it and Im a hard on. What do you want from me? I cant open my mouth without someone jumping down my throat. Just leave me alone. Krist, youd think I was asking for a million dollars or something. All I want is to be left alone. Is that too much to ask for, to just be left alone

sitting on the edge of his bed, his hands clasped between his thighs, head hanging,

and not be bugged all the time. All I know is that it stinks. Everything stinks. It smells so bad you can taste it. And it tastes so bad you can smell it. Like something is rotting inside. And you cant just spit it out. No matter how hard you try you just cant spit it out.
Theres always that foul taste in the back of your throat and you hack and hawk and spit and gargle and still the sonofabitch is back there somewhere. You clear your throat and cough over and over and think its gone and then all of a sudden its back there again and no matter how many times you think its gone it comes back. It always comes back and lodges itself in the back of your throat where you can taste it and smell it. Your nose always burning from the stench of rotting flesh.

And for krists sake dont smile. Whatever you do dont smile. Then theyll really get bugged. Youll really bring them down. All over you. Theyll find out whats making you smile and yank it away from you. Just as sure as krist made little apples theyll yank it right out of you. Theyll yank and tug and twist until your gut is in your throat and your insides feel like they have a rat chewing on them and you retch so hard youre afraid youre going to turn inside out. Yeah, dont smile. For the love of krist dont you dare smile or youre in serious trouble. You have no right to smile. Theyll burn you at the stake and point the finger at you. Yeah, youre goddamn right they will. Just try walking down the street smiling and see what happens. Just try it. Jesus, why wont they let you live. Is that so much to ask for. Just to live. Just to be left alone and live the way you want to. So what if you screw up. Its none of their business. Why do you have to try it their way? They think their way is the only way, the fools. Theyre so goddamn hardheaded they think their way is the only way and if you try it your way they make sure it screws up. Theyll make sure you end up holding the same old bucket of shit. Theyre afraid you might make it your way and then theyd have to admit they were wrong. But they make sure that doesnt happen. Theyd rather see you spend the rest of your life with your guts all tied up in knots and that foulness lodged in the back of your throat. They dont care. They really dont care how much you suffer. They really dont know anything about pain. They laugh at it. They really cant feel other peoples pain. Yeah, sure. I know. Im not denying that. We all hurt people sometimes, but they think its funny. They just pass it off. They hurt someone and they
forget about it. They just forget about it. It doesn’t even bother them. They just toss it out of their minds. It doesnt faze them at all. They dont suffer because of it. They dont relive it. Over and over again. With them its just a big so what. What happened, happened, and they let it go at that. They just go home, get laid and go to sleep, just as if nothing ever happened. And the next day they go walking down the street with a big shiteating grin on their face. Happy as a lark. They dont suffer a minutes pain. Not one single minute. They dont live with it and suffer from it. They dont feel flooded by other peoples tears. They dont hear and feel them sloshing around inside them, their tongues arent burned by them. They just go on as if nothing happened. The operation was a success, but the patient died. Yeah, thats all. Bang the gavel. Next case. They dont know what it is to feel the sorrow of the world. To feel the hollow, lumpy pain of hunger. Or loneliness. That terrible, overwhelming feeling of loneliness that makes you unaware of crowded streets and noisy rooms. That terrible loneliness that makes simple movements gigantic chores and weighs so heavy inside you that you cant answer a simple question with a yes or a no, or even shake your head. You cant even stare into inquisitive eyes. You can only feel the heavy loneliness flowing through your body and hanging wet and heavy on your eyes. They know nothing about these things. To them tears are tears and nothing more. They dont feel them. They just dont feel. Thats what it is. They just dont feel. To them a kid with torn sneakers shining shoes is just a shoeshine boy. Thats all. They dont care about what may be going on inside him. They think he likes it. They really believe he likes to shine shoes and dont even think of the torment and misery that may be gnawing at his gut. They just sleep and get up and go to work with that same old grin stuck on their face. They dont lie there and feel the air getting heavier and heavier. They dont wake up in the middle of the night sweating, feeling the darkness pressing on them. Just lying there listening to the ticking of the clock, feeling it get louder and louder and wrapping itself around you tighter and tighter with each tick of the clock and you know if it
gets any tighter you will be crushed out of existence, yet, somehow, it does get tighter and tighter and still just a little tighter as you struggle to suck air in, quietly, afraid to move, wanting to just turn over and grab the clock and throw it against the wall, but you cant move. Youre frozen under the weight of the darkness and the ticking of the clock. And you wait. For it. You wait for it to shatter its way through the window or suddenly splinter the door and you wont be able to resist or run. And so you just lie there, paralyzed, straining to hear whats outside the door, whats outside the room, feeling the pounding of the clock and the immobility of time. But they dont know these things. They dont know the terrors that go through your mind as you lie there in that pit waiting for a hint of light to tell you that the night is over. That time did pass and another night is over and you move and somehow manage to sit on the side of the bed and look at the clock and stare at the second hand as it ticks and tocks its way around past the five and then the six and then the seven staring deep into the face of the clock, watching time move outside you and forcing thoughts of the day upon you. Another day to get through, somehow, one sweeping, endless minute at a time, and then it would once again be night and you go to bed hoping to sleep, simply sleep, until daylight, but it never happens that way. Youre suddenly awake and the blackness is impenetrable and you feel the ticking of the clock and once again there is the torture and agony of immovable time squeezing the life from you and the despair of surviving another endless night. But they dont know this. They just sleep. Unaware and unconcerned. Oblivious to the pain and misery in the world. Insensitive to the suffering around them. They just dont know. Theyre insensitive to everything. Every thing. They just dont know. They seem to think its all a game, like making fun of the kid with the glasses, or laughing at you when you get a haircut. They just jump around and point their finger and sing, haha, you got a haircut, you got a haircut, and make you cry. Theyre always doing things like that. A little kid may save his money for days, or weeks, to buy an ice-cream cone and when it falls on the ground they laugh. The kid may have shined shoes or collected bottles to get the money and they just laugh. And make
fun of him if he picks it up and eats it anyway. Or laugh even harder if he doesn’t pick it up. Yeah, sure, I know. But thats different. I just laughed because the other kids did. I didnt really want to hurt him. Not really. It was just something that happened. Its not really the same. None of those things were deliberate. Yeah, I know, but even that was different. She had no right blocking the doorway. How could people get on and off the train with her blocking the doorway like that. You know how many people almost got hit with the door because she wouldnt get out of the way. And anyway, I didnt really hurt her. I just sort of bumped her a little. O.K., O.K., maybe I did lose my temper sometimes, but everybody does that. I didnt plan to hurt anyones feelings. Not like them. They get pleasure out of hurting people. And anyway, I said I was sorry. At least most of the time. God, what do you want from me. I said I was sorry. A thousand and one times I said I was sorry. Isnt that enough? Youd think I was some kind of animal or madman or something. At least I never went around hitting people on the head with an ax or something. God, how about all the people who beat their kids, or starve them and lock them in closets and that kind of thing. Like that kid Pickles. He was always stealing pencils and pens and things in school because his old man used to hit him on the head and knock him down the stairs and that kind of thing. I never did anything like that. And the people who start wars and millions of people get killed. I never did anything like that. And anyway, I was always sorry. I really was. Honestly. You dont think they are, do you? Do you think they care? I tried not to do those things again. I honestly and truly did.

Other books

The Changeling by Helen Falconer
Dunaway's Crossing by Brandon, Nancy
League of Dragons by Naomi Novik
Doubting Our Hearts by Rachel E. Cagle
The Way Back Home by Alecia Whitaker
Is She for Real? by P.J. Night
Everlasting Enchantment by Kathryne Kennedy