Last Day Inside
"And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to inprovise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt." Sylvia Plath
3/5/05
“If you can’t beat em, stab em in the face and run like hell.” That’s what my Grandpa used to say. It was hard to tell when my Grandparents were being serious. I think they would’ve told you that they were always serious. Most people would probably have said that they were never serious. Between my Grandfather’s fake heart attack, and Grandma’s constantly dripping blood dress, that’s what she called it, her “constantly dripping blood dress,” I never knew what was real.
When I was 4, I think it was 4; Grandpa took me on a tour to see some cheese. Rather to see how cheese was made, it was some American Cheese Tour: See how real American cheese is made with safety and freedumb. What I can remember best about the factory was that it was all metal and yellow. The yellow paint was peeling off of everything, that’s how I knew it was metal and not cheese.
We made it to these hugh vats of boiling hot; I guess it was cheese, or something like it, almost cheese I suppose. It’s was gurgling and curdling, as this big metal arm swirled it around and around. Whatever it was, that’s as far as we got before Grandpa had one of his “episodes.” He fell in.
I was watching - he didn’t fall; he jumped. I wasn’t even tall enough to see where he went, but he did splash some of the yellow stuff out, almost got me too. Grandpa had 2nd degree burns on his hands and face mostly; his cloths protected him pretty well from the cheese. (He did wear longs leaves that day.) He went berserk though, I could never throw a tantrum like that. Screaming, flailing his arms and legs jumping up and falling down, he looked like a puppet of a spastic master. He ran around in a tight circle mostly, holding his face, and now and then hiking up his pants, to keep them from falling off.
Anyways, that was the first time, and it worked too. I don’t even think he had to sue, they just sent him to the hospital with a million dollars in cheese. I still eat grilled cheese almost everyday, sometimes more then once. Grandpa had fake heart attacks, aneurisms, war flashbacks, schizophrenic seizures, he had everything. He had never been to any wars, and was in pretty great shape for an old guy, but I still thought of him as this messed up old war vet that could drop dead any day, and then do it again the next.
Grandma didn’t have it quite so bad, from what I could tell, but I don’t even know what it was you would call “it”. She did everything a Grandmother was supposed to do; made cookies and all that, you know like a real grandparent. She did her own thing too, like Grandpa, but not so crazy. Sometimes it seemed like she didn’t even know what was happening, even though she went right along with it perfectly. It’s like sometimes she was perfectly crazily in-synch with grandpa’s fake crazy. Like I said it was hard to know what was real, these people were all I knew, their warped reality was mine, and I had no choice. My parents had disappeared, its some mystery, nobody knows what happened.
We went to some war memorial park thing, the three of us. I don’t remember what it was called… It was this kind of fake fort with different displays set up all around, showing different aspects of how the solders had to fight and their equipment and whatever else. It was pretty lame, half the “fort” wasn’t even wood, it was plastic made to almost look like wood. It was like those mini-vans that they put fake wood decoration on the sides to make it look better, but you gotta think; would that van really look better with a real slab of wood nailed to the side of it? I mean real wood is better then fake wood right?
Anyways Grandpa was building up to it the whole tour, his performance I suppose. He started whispering to “Charlie” and walking around dazed, half talking to himself. No one really took much notice, people tend to ignore things, but it was pretty obvious that something was happening. I swear even when there was a fight starting, people just look away, or pretend they don’t see it. Two people can literally get so angry with each other that they will start punching each other in the face, and the people around them will just stand there picking their nose, that’s how stuck people are. It’s like they are all in a constant loop of: It’s not happening, I can’t hear you, Someone else will do something, It’s not my business, I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care. I’m scared.
“What did you do? I mean about your grandparents being crazy in all…”
“Me? I didn’t do much; they didn’t work me into the routine until later. I was an innocent bystander like everybody else. I thought it was funny as hell, if you were in on it, it certainly was. I never knew exactly what was going to happen, but I knew if anything worth seeing was happening my grandparents were behind it. But that’s the thing, about Grandma; sometimes I wasn’t sure she was in on it… Maybe she was crazy, but no, I don’t think my grandparents were crazy. They were unique I’ll give you that.”
“They sound crazy to me… what happened at the war thing?”
“It was the last part of the tour, and Grandpa started going all out. He was yelling for Charlie and running around really looking nuts. He ran up to the cannon and started having this heated conversation with, I guess whoever was firing the thing. He said, “We got 2 battalions comin by the right flank. You gotta put one of these right in their guts, you hear me son!” Something like that, then he ran over to this little canoe kinda thing they had there and hid under it like he was taking fire. That’s when he told his friend Charlie to tell his wife he loved her and if she had to get married not to marry that rube Charlie because he was a known sister fucker. About then was when Grandma started calling for her husband like she had just woken up and didn’t know what was going on.” “Dear is that you? Is the war over?”
“Everyone from the tour was just shocked, even the guide was just standing there. I remember that they all sort of turned around slowly to look at my Grandma when she started her bit. It seemed like they were more shocked at what she was doing, like they couldn’t believe this guy had a wife, or maybe it was that she was “one of them” and that was the frightening part. They must have thought he was having a wild nervous break down, and I think they were a little scared to do anything to stop it, since he might think they were the enemy. Grandpa had started trying to climb up on the tank when Grandma started running after him, “Louis, Louis come back to me!” This was great timing because the security guys were just about there and I don’t think it would have mattered how crazy Grandpa was they weren’t going to let him mess with that tank.”
“So Grandpa spun around and recognized his wife, as if for the first time, he started running towards her. It was just like a movie the two of them running towards each other like that. You know like a field of pretty flowers and slow motion, the kind of scene that just screamed true love. You could kind of tell that Grandma wanted this part to look just right because she slowed down, sort of running in place, to let Grandpa get in position before they finished the last part of the performance. They ran into each other kind of hugging each other, Grandpa fell down backwards and Grandma fell on top of him. They rolled around in joy. This is where the dramatic music finally hits full volume and it’s the perfect time to get something caught in your eye. The people shook their heads and walked away. I think I can remember one person started clapping a little, very confused, but assuming that something they just witnessed required some praise or pity.”
“Security was confused as well, and just inched backwards to their secret hideout, wherever they had come from. While the rest of the tour shuffled out in a kind of shocked relief, one woman was crying, one of the kids said, “Cool, that old fart just lost it.” Grandpa said after we made it to the car that the tour needed some spice. Even then I was pretty sure that his performance was inevitable, and no matter how exciting it was we would have seen a real war hero truly fighting for something in that plastic fort.”
It was fun to watch the victims, see their expressions change as the atmosphere changed. Grandpa was like a conductor of public atmosphere. He could do more then just shock people out of themselves, he could talk people into and out of just about anything, but that’s something else. Grandma especially always reminded me to watch the crowd, see how they react, see what they feel. It was always my job after to tell both of them exactly how the people reacted, who did what and at what part, what they said if anything. Everything I could remember they wanted to know it all.
I can remember Grandpa saying, “If you don’t go too far, you won’t wake anybody up.” He said that quite a bit. But there was also the more standard hot coffee burns and hair in the soup, that kinda thing. That’s how they made their money, most of it. They never went to court, always settled. That was the small time stuff, or so Grandma said, I didn’t see that. I don’t think they wanted me to see that side of it, but I always witnessed the big time stuff. Grandma used to tell me I was getting my real life education, something no one was going to teach me, not even the oldest book; she said it was the secret to life.
“Do you have a cigarette man?”
“No, I’m leaving today, didn’t you know? This is my last day.”
“So why you just now telling me all this huh?”
“I dunno, gotta tell somebody the truth. You think I told any of these psycho’s and psychoanalysist’s in here the truth? Ain’t this place a trip man? All these nuts and a bunch of doctors that want ta crack em.” Vince lowered his voice and pushed his head closer so that his cheek touched the cool bars, “You know the only reason I’m telling you is that no one will believe you right?”
Kyle stepped back, “What makes you think I believe you?”
Vince gave Kyle a hard look through the barred window. “You want to hear the rest of my crazy story or not?” Vince asked with a lot of extra attitude.
Kyle just stood there, two steps from his bars, not saying anything. He looked down to his slippers, dull green, like the rest of his cloths.
“You know I’m not the crazy one here, I may have been here for 10 years but that doesn’t mean I was really crazy. If anything could make you crazy it’s this place. You know how sending people to prison just makes them better criminals? Well it’s the same here, if I wasn’t crazy before I probably am now, and if I was then I’m just better at it now then I ever could have been.” Vice was waiting for Kyle to open back up, but he knew it wasn’t likely. “You know its funny, I had to come here, to this nut house to learn what “reality” was, the reality of the majority. I never really had a clue about it growing up with my Grandparents, if I hadn’t been locked away in here, I would never have understood what they were doing, not really. Not from your perspective anyway.” Vince waited a couple more silent minutes, taking in the place for the last time.
“Alright man I’m gonna go talk to the next guy,” Vince said to Kyle with a sneering little grin. Vince took five steps to the next window and shouted, “Hey you wanna hear my story? I’m already half way though, but I just want to say it out-loud to somebody.” Vince leaned up against the door and looked in at his new audience. Kyle had moved back to his window, listening.
“So like I was saying,” Vince went on, “Grandma and Grandpa were teaching me about life.” Vince looked back over his shoulder to see Kyle sticking his tongue out at him. He smiled and went on.
“Do you want to hear another one? Ok, alright so there was this one time when I thought it was for real. Grandpa really fooled me. It was all about changing the dynamics of a random group of people, getting them out of their normal roles. It was like throwing a hugh rock into a calm pool of water, all the sudden the world wasn’t flat and smooth anymore. People had to pay attention, not just because that was their duty but because they were completely taken, maybe just by their instincts but they were honestly involved the moment the rock smashed through lake placid.”
“That’s how I felt when I went with grandpa through the haunted house ride at the fair. I got sucked in and I was on the other side, like all the other victims. I remembered right after of course, that was the weirdest part- going from being in on the gag, to being part of it. I was chewed up and spit back out.”
“Anyways it was just this crappy haunted house where you got in this little train kinda thing and jerked your way past a bunch of sheets for ghosts and other crap in the dark. I wasn’t even paying much attention, I could see the sun peeking through some cracks; it was hard to be scared. Grandpa wasn’t saying anything; I figured he was just taking a nap. When the little train finally jerked us back out into the sun he was still just sitting there. I got out and started walking away, down the little ramp. As I was passing by the Carnie I saw out of the corner of my eye that he was looking at something very intently. Not like anything normal or usual, it was the kind of body language that makes you just know something was happening. I guess its just instincts, but I spun around and there was Grandpa sitting in the train with white bubbly foam running out of his mouth.”
“Oh shit,” said the new audience.
“Yeah, well that’s what the carnie guy was thinking. He was just standing there, not doing anything like he was frozen. I think I was just 12 or something then, so I didn’t know what to do either, I kept looking back and forth from my Grandpa and the Carnie, waiting for something to happen. I was scared to death thinking he was dead already. Finally I just stuck my gaze on the Carnie pleading him to do something to save my Grandpa. My forlorn look must have been enough because he finally noticed and straightened himself up, looked at me real quick, and then walked over to the train. I could tell he was just as scared as I was and that probably was what made it so bad for me, since he was the only adult around that could do something. Thinking back on it I’m sure that Carnie didn’t want to have to call the ambulance even less then he wanted to drag a dead old guy off his ride.”
“Finally he took a few steps over to grandpa and put his hand on his shoulder and shook him lightly, very tentatively. Nothing happened. The Carnie looked back at me, as if to say, “I tried.” He had such a pathetic look on his face, it looked like this guy was dying right there, like his life was as over as my Grandpa’s.”
“That was the worst moment for me, it was somehow even worse then thinking my Grandpa was dead, seeing this Carnie guy die inside, but like always, Grandpa knew exactly when to end it, he started having convulsions. He was bending back and forth at the waist very quickly and jerking his arms around frantically. I swear Grandpa must have taken lessons, he was that good. The Carnie jumped back, and me, I was overjoyed. I still hadn’t put the whole thing together in my mind but I was happy enough to see my Grandpa was not dead, and since I had seen him have violent convulsions before I just ran over to him and hugged one of his legs.”
“You’re such a liar, but it’s a pretty good story,” said a disinterested voice from the back of a cell.
Vince just eyed the new listener and went on, “Anyways, this is right when Grandpa stood up straight wiped his mouth and chin and started walking away. As soon as I touched him, it was like he was cured. Of course the Carnie couldn’t believe his eyes, had no idea what just happened and just stood there dumbfounded watching my Grandpa walk on to the next ride, with me following right after.”
“Hey I believe him,” said Kyle.
“Yeah, that’s cause you’re an idiot, a crazy idiot.”
“Ho ho, look whose talkin buddy, ya know I think I’ll just take my confession elsewhere,” Vince said as he took a few steps back to Kyle’s bars.
Vince looked in at Kyle and they both smiled. “Now do you want to hear another one, or do you want to hear how I ended up here? I only got about 15 more minutes before I’m on the outside so it’s gotta be one or the other.”
Kyle sat on his little green cot staring at his shoes some more, he seemed to be in another world. “Yeah I wanna know how you got in here,” Kyle said with some remorse.
“Ok fine.”
“You know I won’t tell anyone Vince, its going to be weird when your gone.”
“Yeah I know you won’t,” Vince leaned in towards the bars as much as he could and whispered, “You know I didn’t tell that other jerk anything important.”
Kyle looked up.
“Hey remember when we convinced those two Schizo’s from wing D that they were dogs and they ran all over the halls chasing that ball,” Vince burst out laughing, only catching himself slightly.
Kyle laughed, “Yeah they had a blast running up and down the hall on their hands and knees, and they had an all out brawl a couple times.” Kyle stood up and leaned up next to the bars again. “Remember when I wanted to steal all the spoons and forks from the kitchen and replace them with sporks?”
“Yeah, I still don’t understand what that one was all about, besides it would have been too hard, and cost too much,” Vince was staring down to the end of the hall, and its red exit sign.
“I still want to do it, before I get out sometime. Will you still help me? I mean when your gone, maybe you could get me the sporks.”
“Yeah I can do that, but let me tell this last part ok,” Vince was getting anxious. He hadn’t been outside, not free, for years.
“Yeah yeah its gotta end somehow,” Kyle said to the ceiling.
“Ok, it was the last prank my Grandparents ever pulled. I was 14 then and I had a part in it, that’s why I ended up here I guess. We went to see a movie, it was in an older theater kind of place, and it seated a big crowd of people when there was a popular movie there. I don’t remember the name of the movie anymore, but I know it was some romantic comedy thing. Like some dorky kinda guy really likes this totally hot bitch that doesn’t even notice him, and all through the movie he does all this crazy shit to try to get her to pay attention to him, but of course it doesn’t work, and the whole time the bitch’s best friend, who is not exactly smoking but is still way too hot for any normal guy is constantly showing up, and so by the end the dork has a change of heart or whatever and decides the less then perfect girl is ok and they all live happily ever after bit. Grandpa said that movies were a great place for his work, because you could know a lot about the group of people going into certain movies without knowing them personally. Yeah, he started calling it his “work”. Anyways, Grandpa said the romantic comedy crowd was in the greatest need of his work, so that’s where we went.”
“We waited until big let down in the middle. Where everything seems to be falling apart and you have to wonder are they ever going to get together and fall in love? Of course that’s just part of the build up to the final ride off into the sunset but anyways, that’s where Grandpa started pouring the gas on his cloths. He had some old liqueur bottles of it in his jacket. He wore this old brown tweed suit, must have been 30 years old. Grandma had the matches; she struck a match near the floor and set his pant legs on fire. Most incredible thing I ever saw was Grandpa just sitting there in his seat with the fire crawling up his pants. It almost looked like he was watching the movie right then. After his pants got going grandma threw a couple matches on his jacket and the rest was a big blur.”
“You know how when you get that adrenalin pumping through you and all you can do is act on instinct. Your senses literally shut down on you, you can’t hear or smell that’s not as important as being able to see; it’s like if you were a cave man and you were fighting some tiger for your life, do you really need to be hearing your wife and kids screaming? Its tunnel vision, all I could do was see what was right in front of me.”
Vince was speaking very quickly now, and patting his left front pocket, feeling his letter inside again and again. “Grandpa was running around the theater screaming FIRE FIRE FIRE! He was running around the aisles so at first the people all began crowding into the middle of the seats, like they were islands of cowards, but eventually some people escaped and started running for the exits. No one went out the back, every single person tried to get out the way they came in. I remember some of the ushers opening the doors to see what was going on and just running straight back out; one of them ran backwards even, like he couldn’t turn around. Grandpa herded everyone out before he left himself, he ran straight out to the street. Grandma was out there waiting for him; she pretty much tackled him and started smothering out the fire. Anyone would have thought she played pro football with that stance she had.”
Vince looked Kyle straight in the eyes, “And this is the part that got me here. Somewhere in the middle of putting Grandpa’s fire out Grandma pulled out her big white leather pocket book and started beating the fire out, or what was left of it. She wasn’t really beating any fire. Then she started screaming, at Grandpa. It went from old man on fire to domestic abuse right before your eyes; it just took some time to adjust. Grandma was kicking and swinging her bag around her head, she looked like some kind of beast. I’m not going to repeat any of the things she said, sorry. Then it was my turn, I was their “kid”, I guess I was supposed to calm the crowd down or something like that.”
“I walked out of the theater doors to see my Grandparents fighting and I was upset, of course. I wasn’t supposed to enter until the fire was out. Then I started screaming too, pleading for them to stop. I was really surprised at myself; the performance I gave was pretty damn good I think. I even cried. I was holding on to Grandma’s leg screaming my head off. I didn’t get to see what the crowd did after that, but I’m sure you can imagine.”
Vince took a deep breath and looked down the hall way again. “And so the cops showed up and after a million questions and a couple days later someone decided that I was a little bit crazy and would be better off in here and not with my grandparents. I don’t even know for sure what happened to them.” Vince sighed long and hard, almost groaning, and put his head on one of Kyle’s bars.
Kyle was picking at his lip, eyes darting around the room. Kyle stepped to get a tissue for Vince, but before he plucked one out of the box he noticed his coin and picked it up instead.
“Vince,” Kyle called over, “I got something for you before you leave.”
“You don’t have to get me anything, I’m going to be back with sporks remember,” Vince made a little smile.
Kyle handed over the coin and said, “This is what my brother gave me before I came in here, there isn’t anything special about the coin, but that’s the point, its just chance, and it’s nothing special, but I want you to have it.”
“I couldn’t take this Kyle it’s from your bother.”
“You’re going to be back right, you just said so.”
Vince took the coin and reached his arm through the bars as far as he could and shook Kyle’s hand. Vince picked up his brown tweed suitcase and said, “Until next time.”
Kyle just nodded and sat back down on his cot.
Vince walked down the green hall past the sun beams on the floor from the hugh windows and back into the shadows to the door at the end of his hall. There was a little paper work and a little money put back in his pocket before the front door opened.
Vince strolled out of the grey institution without looking back, thinking about how he could maybe break his legs, maybe just one of them to start. Vince never changed his pace, the black gate at the end of the drive opened just in time for him to sneak through, and he kept on going right out into the busy street.