Parchman
General either. Hewas safe for now but with no idea where he was and no food or water heknew he wouldn’t last long in this desert heat. He started walking but inno particular direction.‘This just reiterates my opinion that helping otherpeople just isn’tbeneficial,’ he spoke to himself. ‘No. Leave my nice comfy prison forsome kids and now here I am stuck in the desert with nothing to drink andno idea where I am.’ He was, of course, talking about alcohol rather thanwater.
After a few hours of walking Hod admitted defeat and sat down dejectedon a rock. His head started to spin due to tiredness and lack of water andbefore he knew it he had passed out again. Drifting in and out ofconsciousness he dreamt that a man in a gas mask was stood over him.
‘What is wrong with his face,’ the masked man said to someone behindhim thatHod couldn’t see.
‘
So, this is it
,’ Hod thought to himself. ‘Not quite the Nirvana I was hopingfor,’ he whispered to the man in his semi-conscious state.
‘Why is he so short?’ said another voice. The voice of a woman.
‘I don’t know. Maybe someone ate his legs,’ said the man.
‘I’d rather starve thaneat that. See what’s in his pockets.’
Hod didn’t like this version of Heaven he thought he was experiencing. Ifhe was going to get robbed, abused and possibly eaten alive he concludedhe was actually most probably in Hell and started lamenting all the bad deeds he had done in his life as they flashed before his eyes. Then hepassed out again.
When Hod awoke he was in a windowless room on a mattress. Gaining hiscomposure he looked around the room only to realize that there was in factnothing to look at other than the four walls, ceiling, floor and a plasticbucket. His leg was also chained to the wall and he was now wearing whatlooked to be a child’s very snug fitting pair of superhero pajamas. ‘Whatthe… for goodness sake,’ he said out loud. ‘Help,’ he screamed but hishead throbbed,so he quickly stopped. ‘Where am I?’ he wondered outloud.
Hod felt the bump on his head and realized it had stitches in it. He also worryingly realized that not only had he had all his clothes changed buthad also been thoroughly washed and cleaned. In fact, he smelt almostpleasant for the first time in many years. He sniffed the air surprised.
As he did a small hatch in the bottom of a door opened and a metal plateslid along the floor towards where he was sat. Soon after a plastic bottleof water whizzed through the same way bouncing of the back wall. Havinghad nothing to eat or drink in days he quickly drank the water and startedscooping the plate of what looked like stew into his mouth. When he hadfinished he sat back against the wall feeling sick and bloated.
This process went on for days. First the plate and then the water. Never aword from his captors and he had no idea why he was still alive. All sortsof scenarios came to mind, including the scary fact they might have beenfattening him up to make him their next meal.
However, the next morning something unusual happened. Well, strangecompared to the last few days anyhow. The bottle of water came throughthe hatch first. This made Hod think that the person bringing him hisbreakfast wasn’t the same person. Then the plate slid through.
‘Wait!’ said Hod. The hatch didn’t close. ‘Who are you? Why am I here?’he said. Still the hatch didn’t close. In fact for a few good seconds itremained opened and then it slammed shut.
‘Damn you,’ he shouted and kick over the bucket in the room beforerealizing his mistake. A flurry of brown water sloshed across the floor andHod started retching at the smell. Hod covered his face with a sheet fromthe makeshift bed and lay down, unable to eat, with tears in his eye.
Lunchtime came and went and back to receiving the plate then the bottle.‘Can I get a mop?’ Hod said imploring his captor to help the situation hefound himself in. Nothing. He sat there eating his stew and slowly drifted to sleep.
When he awoke the room was different although he couldn’t tell why atfirst. The bucket was now upright, empty and the floor had been cleaned,but it wasn’t just that. In one of the corners of the room there was a plant.A small pot plant. ‘OK, could this be any weirder?’ he said. The hatchopened and the water came first. ‘Please, help me,’ he cried out.
‘We are,’ said a woman’s voice. ‘Who are you?’ she asked.
‘Hod,’ he almost shouted, ecstatic to hear another person’s voice.
‘Hod? What kind of name is that?’ said the voice.
‘It’s Scandinavian actually,’ said Hod, trying to engage the woman’s trust.‘Look, can you tell me where I am and why I’m being kept here?’‘We’ve not seen anything like you before,’ the woman said. ‘The Masterwants to keep you as his pet.’
‘A pet?’ said Hod disgusted. ‘Bring this Master to me immediately’.
The woman went quiet and the hatch on the door shut abruptly.
A few minutes passed and the door flung open. A man in a long coat whichlooked handcrafted from various materials stood looking at Hod. ‘No, thiswill never do,’ said the man and walked away from the room leaving thedoor open.
Hod nervously walked towards the door with the chain clanking on thefloor. Then a woman brushed passed Hod and started to unlock the chainfrom the wall and subsequently Hod’s ankle. He rubbed at the mark lefton his ankle and with neither of them saying a word walked through thedoorway and into a very short corridor that had coats hung up in front ofhim.
The woman pushed past again and opened