24 Hour Lockdown Page 3
I cross my arms and stall for the time. "What's the point? It's not like we’re ever going to see each other again."
Across from me, George grunts his agreement. "I second that.” I nod at him, glad to have someone on my side.
But Melody is relentless. "Yes, but wouldn't it be great if we all became friends," she gushes.
Good old moneybags put in his two cents. "It is highly unlikely that our social statuses would ever be mingled again. Much less on purpose."
Melody leans forward and smiles at me. "Please, Joseph? I think you’re a unique soul and I would like to know more about you."
I’m angry at how this whole thing is going. I shouldn’t have to tell these people anything! But if I refuse, I may draw even more attention to myself. I let out a breath and decide to only share the bare minimum.
"Alright, fine! I live in a trailer park. I like to fish and I'm allergic to potatoes."
That should satisfy their curiosity but moneybags speaks up, "What do you do for a living?"
I look at him and glare. "That’s none of your business. It's nobody's business but mine. Got it?"
He holds up his hands and smirks devilishly. "Perhaps it's best that we don't know, come to think of it.”
Melody
I sense yet another fight starting to brew. No wonder I sensed so much unhappiness in these people before. They are downright miserable. I had hoped this activity would help. I speak up before our peaceful environment is gone.
"Susan, would you like to tell us about yourself now?"
She pats her daughter's blonde hair and looks around at us.
"Well, I married my high school sweetheart and I'm a stay at home mom."
"Was it love at first sight?" I believe love is the most beautiful thing in the world! Especially when it all happens at once and you just know you’ve found your forever soulmate.
Susan seems kind of hesitant to answer. "I suppose it was."
"Was?" George asks.
I nod in agreement, I was wondering the same thing.
Susan gives a light laugh. "After eight years of marriage, love at first sight loses its shine."
I frown, trying to figure out how that could ever happen. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and decided to think about it later.
I grin at her daughter. "Amelia, can you tell us about yourself?"
Chapter five
Susan
I hold my baby’s hand and pray she keeps her home life down to a minimum. The last thing we need is for people to find out. Don’t get me wrong, I hate everything about how we live, but it’s just something that happens and there’s no control over it.
One of my biggest fears is child services taking Amelia away from me. If people found out, then that fear could easily happen.
Even though she lives in a dangerous environment, I never let him hit her. And I try to keep her out of his way on bad days. Deep down, I know he loves us. Mitch just doesn’t like sharing his feelings.
George
That kid has been laying against my arm for so long that it’s numb now. I’m glad when she sits up. Spoiled ankle biter.
Like all kids, her voice is annoyingly high pitched. "I have a mommy and a daddy and a kitten."
As if Amelia’s high squeaky voice isn’t enough, Melody has to let out an annoying squeal, "Kittens are so cute!"
I roll my eyes.
"And this is my new friend!" To my horror, the brat is pointing at me. At me! I ain't no babysitter! I can’t stand little kids running around, carrying on and screaming.
"No way! I can’t stand…" I start to set the record straight but I’m getting a lot of funny looks so I don’t bother finishing my sentence.
Amelia isn’t done yet. "I draw pictures too!"
She just so happens to have a copy of her artwork in some kiddie backpack with some cartoon princess plastered over the whole thing.
She holds up a piece of computer paper. I get a glance of it and do a double take. Where does this kid get her inspiration? There are two stick figures and it looks like one is sleeping or dead and the other is standing over them.
Melody squints and leans forward. “What’s that a picture of, cutie pie?
Amelia points a stubby finger at the figure who is standing. "My daddy.” Then she points at the stick figure on the ground “And this is my mommy."
Marc
I lean in and look closer at the picture, then over at Susan. Her head is bowed and she seems to have found something very interesting on the dirty carpet. I see where this whole scene is going. I’m very good at reading people.
Before I can say anything, Melody jumps to her feet. "You can't let him treat you that way!" It’s the angriest I’ve ever seen her.
The emotion in the room is worse than the time I foreclosed on that old lady’s house. Luckily for these people, I know how to handle situations like this.
I clear my throat. "My lawyer is particularly good at what he does. He's never lost a case, no matter how low the price of the bribe was. I'll lend you his card. He’s in his office Monday through Friday. Eight in the morning until six." I dutifully take out a crisp white business card and hold it out, waiting for her to come take it.
I expect some nods of approval. A pat on the back. So why is Susan actually… glaring at me? What did I do? Are these commoners as ungrateful as all that?
I frown at her. "You can't expect this unhealthy relationship to keep going on like this, can you?"
I think I made my point clear, until that odd man, Joseph, says, "You never were one to feel emotion, moneybags."
Joseph
I shake my head at such callousness. Of course, I’m not really surprised. I know what that monster is capable of.
"You can't just let the lady borrow your expensive lawyer and expect her to divorce her husband just like that."
Amelia tugs on Susan’s arm. "What’s divorce, mommy?" Her eyes are wide and look like they are about to spring a leak. Susan picks her up and rocks her. I hope moneybags is happy.
I hear Susan whisper, "It doesn’t matter, baby."
Melody isn’t ready to let the topic drop. “But, this is wrong! It’s injustice! You have to defend yourself!”
I never thought of her as a fighter before, but I guess everyone has a little bit of fight in them when push and passion play a part.
Susan’s stare is cold and her tone is final. "This is the end of this conversation."
I get the picture and eagerly drop it. I never like thinking about abusive relationships anyway. Makes me feel uncomfortable. You can’t always protect yourself or those you love, from jerks. Moneybags put away his precious card.
After that awkward show, I’m guessing the whole ‘introduce yourself’ game is finally over. I have to wonder, what do we do now?
Outside it’s getting darker. I hope we don't stay locked in here much longer.
“What now?”
Melody
I feel my heart breaking for my sweet new friend. The very thought of it sickens me. She should fight back! Give him a black eye and see how he likes it! No woman should take abuse like that!
I take a deep breath. I must not grow thorns of hate. Peace is the answer. Peace and communication is always the answer. But it still angers me and anger is a natural emotion.
"We could read," I offer as I look at my book on my lap.
Marc lets out a short bark of laughter. "Really? I had no idea that one could read in a library.” The sarcasm is so thick I could spread it over a gluten-free biscuit.
I tried to bring us together. Tried to plant seeds of friendship. I guess not everyone wants to do that.
"Maybe we should take some time apart."
Everyone eagerly agrees on that idea and it kind of hurts. Don’t these people want to spend time together? I watch as they get up and head to their own personal space. Maybe in the end the distance will bring us closer.
Chapter six
Susan
Amelia is asleep. I to
ok the cushions off a couch and set up a little bed for her. It's 10:30 pm now. I thought for sure we would be home by now. It is nice though, being out of the house. I try to get Amelia out of the house everyday for a few hours.
After our group split up, I took Amelia to the children's section. We are sitting on the floor among a maze of aisles. After reading four books, Amelia crashed and I've done nothing but think.
At first, I was angry and ashamed when they found out about Mitch. The last thing I want is for everyone to think I’m a bad mother. Would a bad mother take all the punches? All the kicks in my back and stomach? What about the verbal abuse? I take all of that too.
But now I feel as if a weight has been lifted. I’m not the only one to carry around the horrible truth. And I know they meant well and tried to help. Even Marc. But it was wrong to discuss it in front of Amelia.
Now I find myself entertaining the idea. What would happen if I did stand up to the abuse? What if I did divorce him? I don't believe it's right, but what else can someone do in my shoes?
The library has an eerie silence, and I’m grateful for the overhead lights. I don’t want to imagine how scary this place could be in the dark. I wonder what everyone else is doing.
George
Alone at a last. I have a whole table to myself. No kids to hang on me, no strange hippies, rich snobs or…
I can't help but wonder about Susan. As much as I detest the woman and her lack of parenting skills, I hate the fact that she lives with a bully. No one should have to endure that.
One of my dogs, Ollie, was adopted from a rescue shelter. The poor guy was abused by his owner and left for dead in a dumpster. I always wanted to find that jerk and give him a taste of his own medicine.
I shake my head and push the thoughts away. Right now, I have the perfect chance to get some writing done. I can just feel the inspiration flowing through me, just waiting to be put into words for others to read. But it figures I don’t have a computer or my notebook. Things always seem to be against me.
My eyes dart around the room. Surely a library would have some extra paper just laying around. That’s when I spot it. The recycle bin.
I walk over to the small green can and stare inside. There’s paper. Used, torn, and crumbled paper, but paper nonetheless. I hesitate for a moment. I’m not the type to dig through trash. But this is paper we’re talking about, and it’s a recycle bin. Not a trash can.
I reach in and pull out a few crumbled balls and one piece that’s missing a large corner. There’s hardly any writing on them. Such a waste.
I chuckle to myself as I go back to my table with my newfound treasure. “No one can ever accuse me of not recycling. Melody would be proud.”
Marc
I saw that! I saw that ape dig through the trash like a rabid dog! I clutch my stomach, suddenly feeling nauseous and lightheaded. I need to get away from these uncultured freaks.
I don’t think anyone has taken residence upstairs yet, so I decide to find my refuge there. I make sure I have all belongings and I head toward the stairs.
My steps seem to echo as I climb to the second floor. I resist the habit to grab the hand rail. There’s no telling who had their grimy digits all over them.
I was right. The second floor is completely empty. Almost eerily empty. I push those thoughts away and walk further in. I had wondered where all the books were in this place.
Aisle upon aisle of shelves fill the room. It’s almost like a labyrinth walking through here. I stop in my tracks when I see the information desk.
I know just where I’m going to be waiting out this ridiculous lockdown. And if anyone needs me, they can just forget it.
Joseph
I watch as moneybags goes upstairs. I consider following him but decide against it. I don’t want to seem suspicious. Besides, he has to come back down here sometime.
In the meantime, what am I supposed to do? I’m not much of a reader, so it looks like I’ll be sitting around conserving my energy. When we get out, I need to be ready.
I’m thinking about where I’d be right now if this lockdown hadn’t happened. I’d be on the road to the
Appalachian Mountains in Tennessee. That’s where I had planned to drop the jerk off. I had the whole thing mapped out.
Sure, he’d find his way back to his precious home eventually, but by the time he did, he’d be humbled. At least that’s the goal. And I’m not some kind of villain, I would mail his junk back to him in a few weeks. I just want him to know how it feels.
I sigh and lean my head back in the chair. I hope this dumb thing ends soon.
Melody
I flip another page in my book and smile. I’m already almost finished and have loved every bit of it.
I check the clock on the wall and am amazed to see it’s almost eleven. Time really does fly when you’re having fun.
The others may not be enjoying this lockdown, but I am. An empty library is so peaceful, and serene. A soul can really breath in here. And as long as we are in here, I can read all the books I want. That armed criminal isn’t all bad for causing the lockdown. I think deep down he has a good heart and is just misunderstood.
Suddenly, there’s a huge clap of thunder outside! I jump at the sound and turn to look out the window. At that moment a flash of lightning strikes the darkness, followed by another boom of thunder.
I clutch the book to my chest and curl up in a ball on the couch. I’ve never liked thunderstorms. I wonder if it’s not too late to go find some company.
Chapter seven
Susan
I’m just starting to doze off when the I hear the thunder. I’m wide awake now. Amelia has a fear of storms and I need to be alert in case she wakes up.
I pat her head and smile as I watch her sleep. She looks so peaceful. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure this is the first time she has ever gone to sleep without Mitch yelling about something. I wipe away a tear and find myself once again considering what would happen if we left.
Now it’s raining. I can hear it pounding down on the roof. I’ve always found the rain calming. Especially when it falls on our metal roof at home.
I remember when I was Amelia’s age, being terrified of storms. My mother would let me crawl in bed with her and she would tell me stories. Stories of giants in the sky stomping about. Of beautiful mermaids in the sea, and the handsome prince who slays the dragon.
She always told me someday I would find my prince. I don’t have the heart to tell her I married a monster.
Overhead, the lights flicker. I rub Amelia’s back and softly hum to her.
I hear someone walking toward us. Then I hear Melody whisper, “Susan? Amelia? Are you over here?”
“We’re over here by the books,” I answer back.
As soon as I see Melody, I realize how glad I am for the company.
“I heard the thunder and wondered if you wanted some company.”
I smile and nod. Melody sits down cross- legged next to me. I notice she’s still carrying her book with her.
I point to it and joke, “I guess you have plenty of time to finish that.”
She looks down at it and nods. “Yeah. I almost have. It’s very good too.”
Just then, there’s a very close bang of thunder. I notice Melody jump slightly. Amelia stirs in her sleep. We are silent for a while as the minutes pass by and the lights flicker.
George
So far, I have a rough idea of the plot and characters of my new play. The villain will turn out to be the hero, while the hero has alternative motives which makes him a villain. It’s a classic twist that no one can resist. I may make one of the secondary characters crucial to the plot.
I’m writing away furiously. All three sheets of paper are covered in my chicken scratch. I’ve had to dig further into the recycle bin for more paper a couple times. Once, I even found an entire clean sheet that had never been used. Such wastefulness.
It’s been so quiet with everyone doing their own t
hing. And the storm outside isn’t bothering me, in fact it’s giving me ideas to have a scene where there’s a hurricane and some of the characters go missing.
I can just picture one of those big shots on Broadway reading my manuscript and exclaiming something along the lines of, “Where has this story been all my life?” Tickets will be sold out. I’ll read the rave reviews of the show in the morning paper over a cup of black coffee. And I’ll…
No! No, this can’t be happening! Why now? It’s not fair! Why does everything always go wrong? I throw my pencil across the room and slam a fist on the table. My hand is throbbing now but I don’t care. Possibly the worst thing that could happened, just did.
The power went out.
Marc
I have taken the information desk and transformed it into my personal office. It took some effort, but it looks great now! All it took was some careful placement of thick reference books. It built it up tall enough so I can stand up and not see over the wall of books. Which means no one can look over at me either. If only I could give it a roof. Then it would be complete.
I rearranged the supplies in the desk to my liking and now it’s like my home away from home. Whoever has this desk, doesn’t understand the term, organization. Paperclips were dumped in the pencil cup, and the lids on the highlighters weren’t on all the way. The librarian will thank me later.
Of course, I haven’t forgotten that this is only a public library. It’s briming with germs and diesase. But under these circumstanceses, I’m willing to let it all slide.
No thanks to that blundering gorilla, I can’t work on my laptop. So, I’ve had to lower myself to other menial tasks. Such as going through the libraries records.