It was the old routine. Recreation group where we board the elevator down the first floor, exit, walk down 3 sets of cement stairs, cross the crosswalk, follow the center building for a jaunt, turn right, navigate a series of warehouses-where there’s always a puddle in the same spot regardless of rain or shine, across the railroad tracks, thru the grocery parking lots, across another street to a small park where we’d sit on park benches and smoke cigarettes until the group was over with. These trips were the only excursion outside the locked down ward if you’re below a level 3 clearance. There are 5 clearances. The 4th and 5th being the best when you can leave the unit for 2 or 4 passes without supervision. The party today include James T. Booker, apostle/my security guard; Arthur, forever trying to figure out what that smell on his fingers was; Maureen, the recreational therapist ( i never did learn her last name); and Jed, a 40yr old man who was rarely shaved, was slack-jawed, and was prone to fits of comical anger like ” I’M GONNA SUE YOU WITH THE PRESIDENT’S LAWYERS SO YOU BETTER blah blah blah.” He had no teeth, scruffy hair, wore pants without a belt- we all wore no belts. They were taken away from us upon admission for fear that we may hang ourselves, they took our shoelaces away for the same reason, making it difficult to walk, ensuring that everyone could see our asses. Jed was impervious to pain. Once, I saw him run down 3 flights of stairs and at full speed , tramping head first and falling into a tumble roll onto leaves ending, standing on his two large feet. I told Maureen and Company about a childhood experience. I was walking home from school and noticed it was raining, so I opened my jaw, stuck my tongue out, and caught a huge amount of bird shit on my tongue. I was in a pigeon shit storm. Maureen rolled over laughing, crying that I should be a comedian. I led the group as we left the park. I crossed the street, maneuvered the grocery lot and came to the ditch before the tracks. I couldn’t find the path thru the shrubbery into the ditch, so I just barreled thru the brush, and climbed on top of the railroad track. I was well ahead of everyone, practically out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind, and I was definitely out of my mind. I followed the tracks for many yards, singing walking down the line, down the line, bidding my time, tell ya about a troubled mind, i got a heavy headed gal, she aint feelin well, get better only time will tell. I came to a part of the tracks where there was no shrubbery on the sides. I heard,
“FREEZE!!!!” from behind me.
I quickly pivot and see myself starring down the barrel of a gun.
” I.Thought.We.Had.a.DEAL” spoken slowly angrily and enunciated by Kurt Cobain. The trigger was pulled and ready to blast off my head. Point blank range. He was using some sort of revolver. I’ve never been big on guns. He was dressed in blue jeans, wore a red bandana, black cowboy boots, and holster at his side. Sandy blonde hair in his eyes.
BORED. I’d been fired at so much, no one ever pulls no one ever had fired.
“Oh puleez sir don’t shoot oh woh as me please don’t harm me mister. I’ll do anything to save me.” I said sarcastically. Confident I’d be fine.
BLAM!!
He wasn’t bluffing. I fell straight backwards. I wasn’t dead. I was supposed to be dead. NO one could survive a hit from that close. But I wasn’t dead. I stood and saw Dave Grohl wearing a Sherlock Holmes hat, trench-coat, and a holding a bulletproof plexiglass sheet with both hands. Holding on the other side was Chris Novelselic in similar garb. They both wore fake mustaches and zz top beards. Noveselic was stumble drunk.
I’d been spared. Not hit at all. I was confident, so cocky that would not get shot and that I ‘d take it like a man. I stood with piss running down my legs which were chattering.
“TED TED TED!” Bellowed the group from the park. I looked over and up. In a second, Nirvana was gone.
James the apostle/bodyguard comes running up.
“WE thought we’d lost you” he panted.
Come on , TeD, said Maureen, you’re going the wrong way.