brown eyes
on me. “Tell me what happened. The truth.”
I sat up. “I
told you already. He fell and hit his chin on the sink.” I leaned over the side
of the bed and looked at my cell-mate. “Ain’t that right?”
He grunted then
moaned.
I smiled.
“Yeah, well,
we’ll figure this out,” the MP said.
“You do that,”
I said.
“Why don’t you
get down and stand in that corner for now.” He pointed toward the toilet and
sink.
I swung my legs
over the side and hopped down and moved slowly to the corner of the room
without taking my eyes off the MP.
He didn’t take
his off of me, either, keeping his palm rested on the handle of his tear gas
gun.
I sat down on
the stainless steel toilet and placed my hands on my knees. The MP seemed
jumpy, and I didn’t want to give him a reason gas me.
Two medics
followed by two more MPs entered the cell a few minutes later. The medics
attended to the injured man on the bottom bunk while the MPs focused their
weapons on me.
“Jaw’s broke,”
one of them said. “Bruised to hell on the left side.”
The MPs looked
at me.
“He fell,” I
said.
The short medic
left the cell then returned a moment later with a wheel chair. They helped the
man off the bed and into the chair and wheeled him out of the room. I found
myself alone with the three MPs.
One closed the
door and leaned back against it. His wide frame blocked the hole in the middle
of the door. The other two approached me and boxed me into the corner. Their
names were affixed to their uniforms, Bates and Sanders.
Bates spoke
first. “Like to beat up on our prisoners?”
I didn’t
respond.
Sanders reached
down and grabbed my shirt and pulled up on the collar, presumably trying to
lift me to my feet.
I didn’t move.
“Get up,” he
said.
I didn’t.
“Now,” he said.
I still didn’t.
They both
reached down and pulled me from the toilet and slammed me against the back
wall. I turned my head and caught a glimpse of the final sliver of the orange
sun before it set behind the expanse of trees that ringed the brig.
The MPs jammed
their elbows into my chest as they leaned into me, taking turns punching me in
the stomach, making sure to avoid my ribs. I kept my abdominal muscles tight as
long as I could. Eventually the blows wore me down and they landed successive
shots that knocked the wind out of me.
They backed
off, and I slid to the floor. I clutched and dragged my nails across the
concrete in an effort to get to my knees and fill my lungs with air. The edge
of my vision darkened. Finally, my lungs expanded and air rushed in through my
mouth. I gasped and exhaled several times.
“We’ll be back
for you later, Noble,” one said.
The last one
left the cell, and the door slammed shut. I knelt on the floor until the sick
feeling in my stomach subsided. Then I pulled myself off the ground and checked
the trays on the table. Chicken, green beans, bread and lukewarm coffee. I
hadn’t eaten in nearly a day and it had been at least that long since my last
cup of coffee. It ended up being one of the best meals I’d ever had.
There wasn’t
much to do in the cell, and the nap combined with the attack by the MPs left me
too amped up to sleep. I paced the space between the bed and the table, walking
from the door to the back window. Stopped and stared out the window. A few
lights flickered in the distance. Other than that it was dark and quiet and
serene.
A bang at the
door jarred me back to reality and I spun around with my arms held in a
defensive position. The door opened, just a crack.
“Noble,” a
voice called.
“Yeah,” I said.
The door opened
further and General Keller stepped in, stopping just inside the entrance. His
close cut grey hair gave way to a face that looked like it was cut from steel.
There were deep lines etched into his forehead, thinner lines spread out from
the corner of his blue eyes and from the sides of his mouth.
I nodded at the
man and felt relief wash over me.
He
on me. “Tell me what happened. The truth.”
I sat up. “I
told you already. He fell and hit his chin on the sink.” I leaned over the side
of the bed and looked at my cell-mate. “Ain’t that right?”
He grunted then
moaned.
I smiled.
“Yeah, well,
we’ll figure this out,” the MP said.
“You do that,”
I said.
“Why don’t you
get down and stand in that corner for now.” He pointed toward the toilet and
sink.
I swung my legs
over the side and hopped down and moved slowly to the corner of the room
without taking my eyes off the MP.
He didn’t take
his off of me, either, keeping his palm rested on the handle of his tear gas
gun.
I sat down on
the stainless steel toilet and placed my hands on my knees. The MP seemed
jumpy, and I didn’t want to give him a reason gas me.
Two medics
followed by two more MPs entered the cell a few minutes later. The medics
attended to the injured man on the bottom bunk while the MPs focused their
weapons on me.
“Jaw’s broke,”
one of them said. “Bruised to hell on the left side.”
The MPs looked
at me.
“He fell,” I
said.
The short medic
left the cell then returned a moment later with a wheel chair. They helped the
man off the bed and into the chair and wheeled him out of the room. I found
myself alone with the three MPs.
One closed the
door and leaned back against it. His wide frame blocked the hole in the middle
of the door. The other two approached me and boxed me into the corner. Their
names were affixed to their uniforms, Bates and Sanders.
Bates spoke
first. “Like to beat up on our prisoners?”
I didn’t
respond.
Sanders reached
down and grabbed my shirt and pulled up on the collar, presumably trying to
lift me to my feet.
I didn’t move.
“Get up,” he
said.
I didn’t.
“Now,” he said.
I still didn’t.
They both
reached down and pulled me from the toilet and slammed me against the back
wall. I turned my head and caught a glimpse of the final sliver of the orange
sun before it set behind the expanse of trees that ringed the brig.
The MPs jammed
their elbows into my chest as they leaned into me, taking turns punching me in
the stomach, making sure to avoid my ribs. I kept my abdominal muscles tight as
long as I could. Eventually the blows wore me down and they landed successive
shots that knocked the wind out of me.
They backed
off, and I slid to the floor. I clutched and dragged my nails across the
concrete in an effort to get to my knees and fill my lungs with air. The edge
of my vision darkened. Finally, my lungs expanded and air rushed in through my
mouth. I gasped and exhaled several times.
“We’ll be back
for you later, Noble,” one said.
The last one
left the cell, and the door slammed shut. I knelt on the floor until the sick
feeling in my stomach subsided. Then I pulled myself off the ground and checked
the trays on the table. Chicken, green beans, bread and lukewarm coffee. I
hadn’t eaten in nearly a day and it had been at least that long since my last
cup of coffee. It ended up being one of the best meals I’d ever had.
There wasn’t
much to do in the cell, and the nap combined with the attack by the MPs left me
too amped up to sleep. I paced the space between the bed and the table, walking
from the door to the back window. Stopped and stared out the window. A few
lights flickered in the distance. Other than that it was dark and quiet and
serene.
A bang at the
door jarred me back to reality and I spun around with my arms held in a
defensive position. The door opened, just a crack.
“Noble,” a
voice called.
“Yeah,” I said.
The door opened
further and General Keller stepped in, stopping just inside the entrance. His
close cut grey hair gave way to a face that looked like it was cut from steel.
There were deep lines etched into his forehead, thinner lines spread out from
the corner of his blue eyes and from the sides of his mouth.
I nodded at the
man and felt relief wash over me.
He
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