A Bed for the Wretched – Chapter 14

A Bed for the Wretched – Chapter 14

There was a loud ringing noise coming from upstairs, from the administration office. It was sharp and fast with a cutting ring tone. Numo was startled, as if awakened from a long tormenting nightmare, and with a strained voice said: “It’s too early for repast… too early to listen to the news on the radio,” then he turned his head towards the meeting place and said: “Let’s go. It sounds like something important needs to be communicated…” “Stay!” replied Pando in a quiet voice. “Whatever it is it will not be for you or for me. All is already known about you and me…” “Even if it is not for us, let’s go and see what the commotion is about...” said Numo. “Let’s go… And you Kirche don’t forget us, come back again and don’t forget to bring those letters and photographs. When you see us again, please come back and tell us more of your stories… Come on Pando, look the people are gathering…” concluded Numo. On their way to the gathering place Numo and Pando saw the man with the clean boots get off a jeep and talk to some elderly men who had gathered there but Numo and Pando could not hear what he was saying. The first to break away from the crowd was Kuze. He walked very carefully as if stepping on thorns with bare feet, and the farther he moved the more his pace hastened. “Mobilization!” Kuze whispered to his wife. “Mass mobilization! They will collect us all! They will take everyone; all those who can carry a gun, all those who can dig and also those who can lead a donkey or a mule. We are all going to the front! I don’t know what to do? Should I hide? But where can I hide? They want us all to come here tomorrow!” Kuze’s wife was a calm and capable woman and not so easily excitable. She looked into her bag (purse), took something out, mixed it with water on a small plate, added some spoiled flour to it and gave it to Kuze. Then in a calm voice she said: “Eat this and take off your sash.” Before midnight Kuze was heard rushing out of his cabin but he never did make it to the lavatory. He quickly snuck between two horse stables and remained there crouched until dawn. But as soon as he returned and went to bed, he remembered he had forgotten something very important. He quickly got up and, like a hopping rabbit carrying raw eggs in his pockets, went outside. He sat down a few steps away from the gate, around the corner from his cabin and quietly said: “That damn flour!” Then, as he heard the night guard approaching, he sighed loudly, adjusted himself and, like a mad man, began to yell out: “Shoo! Shoo! Shoo!...” “What is it Kuze?” inquired the guard. “A rat! A huge mother of a devilish rat!” replied Kuze in a voice full of pain, pointing twice to the wall with his hand. “Very big!” he said while holding onto his pants with his other hand. And so the stage was set… After reaching the gathering place and seeing Kuze sneaking away, Numo and Pando decided to go to the road. Unlucky, Numo again failed to get to the trucks and make contact with his truck driver friend. Numo decided to stand in the middle of the road, spread his legs, lift one of his crutches into the air in hopes of stopping the convoy, but without success. The trucks veered off, blinding him with their headlights and left a cloud of dust behind. One, two, three… ten, one by one the trucks passed him by. Numo became furious and threw himself into the ditch on top of the densely growing grass and watched the last truck meander around the bend and make its way up the hill. It was getting dark as the trucks made their way over the mountain crest and disappeared. The sky was clear and stars were beginning to appear. When the trucks were gone, Numo turned his attention to the barracks and horse stables and watched the flicker of candles and lamps being lit in the cabins. The tiny lights glimmered gently, appearing and disappearing, rising and sinking in the dark creating strange shades and patterns on the leaves of the trees and on the road. There was something spiritual about the tiny lights in the dark.

Just watching them gave him a feeling of hope. Then, just for a moment, life was good and it did not matter that he was lame and missing a leg. In that split moment, while watching the little flames dance in the dark, he felt peaceful, serene and whole again. He had no regrets about what he had done and what he would do again if he had to. During his moment of clarity in the starry night, he prayed and his prayers were about him getting back in a bunker (dying with dignity fighting) because that’s what he wanted. His clarity vanished like a puff of smoke in the wind and now he began to feel the loneliness in the silence all around him. Circumstances may have led him here but whatever he was supposed to do, he realized, he was no good at it. He had always been independent and he could not imagine anything but always being independent. He never needed anyone’s help and had never bowed his head before anyone. He had never committed any wrongs or dirty deeds and had kept his conscious clear. His thoughts now turned to his own body, remembering the names of the prison camps and jails he had carved on his own flesh, now healed scars, which at the time were black and swollen. The wounds may have healed but the tragic memories of being in those camps had not. He was a man forged, woven and fashioned by the times, by the passing centuries during which his people had spent mourning and in darkness. He had been uprooted from his home and humiliated. And now he was like a stone, uprooted from its own place, moved around so that no grass could grow around it. So, the one legged lame man was now lying in the ditch on the side of the road, being cast aside but not abandoned. He still had faith, he still believed, he still saw and he still stared into the night. He was all alone in the dark, in the bottomless dust; he was all alone, only with his hopes and desires. “I will wrest myself from this darkness! I will shake off the road dust that settled on my coat! I will find my way to an open space! And there I will wait patiently to get to the place where my friends are waiting for me. Not in the food line like a greedy eater, but in the front line of a raging battle…” Numo promised himself. The sky was turning pale gray. The forested peak of the hill on the other side was becoming visible as the darkness slowly faded away. Dew drops had settled on Numo’s wooden leg. The first rays of the morning sun began to appear making the liquid droplets sparkle like pearls.