Neo-Toxin

 

Waking up, he had no recollection of how he got to this place. As he opened his left eye, he realized that he stared at the aluminum leg of a dining room chair. The linoleum was cold, and the only sound was the ticking of a clock from another room. Shaking his head, as if trying to wake himself, he started to sit up only to realize that he had been chained to the floor.

              Socks and underwear were the limit of his clothing, and he was really cold. Pulling a bit on the chains that held him, he was able to get himself into a sitting position, his back against the cupboards. “Hello?” he called out, but he received no response.

              Looking around the room, it all seemed like a typical kitchen and one that felt very familiar. But then he saw the large mirror on the opposite wall. “A mirror in a kitchen?” he thought. “That’s weird.” Laying back down, he stretched his leg out toward the refrigerator to try to pull the door open. But as he was wearing socks, he had zero grip and not enough toe strength. Sitting back up again, he could only listen to his stomach growl.

              “What’s he doing now?” the little girl behind the mirror asked. A dozen sets of eyes looked upon the man on the opposite side of the mirror and tried to understand him. He couldn’t stand up, for the chains kept him nearly at floor level and he couldn’t eat anything, for it was all out of reach. So he sat in silence and merely looked around the room.

              “Couldn’t we go out and help him?” the little girl asked.

              “No, honey, it wouldn’t do any good,” her mother answered. “He wouldn’t see or hear us even if we tried. We are like ghosts to him.”

              “Well, this just doesn’t seem right,” she said. “I’m going to try and do something.” Pushing past everyone in the room, she walked into the kitchen and stood by him, looking at his sad face. The sudden burst of a growling stomach startled her, and she pulled a banana from the counter, lying it on the floor near him. But, as her mother had surmised, he simply didn’t see it or the little girl.

              Returning to the room behind the mirror, they stood in silence and grief, watching him struggle on the floor, pulling against his restraints. “He’s just being lazy,” one of them said. “He just needs to try harder. Why is he being like that?”

              “I’m sorry, I just don’t have any answers,” the mother said. “There is nothing we can do.”

              “But do we need to sit here and watch him?” another said. “We could at least go do something fun.”

              The large group of people turned away for the last time and left the house. A wave of grief swept over her as she looked back upon him one last time. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You kids wait here,” she said, pointing toward the sidewalk. “I’ll be just a minute.” Stepping into the garage, she searched around and found the can of gasoline in the corner. Returning to the kitchen, she tipped it over onto the floor and dropped a lit match, closing the door behind her and hurrying away.

              Walking toward the park, a lump formed in her throat, and she fought hard not to cry. In the distance she could hear sirens approaching and then race past them. Turning into a nearby park, she distracted them all with rides on the swings and the merry-go-round.

              “Things will be better now,” she assured them. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

              Darkness began to settle on the playground and the mother gathered the children together. “Come on everyone,” she said. “We can go home now.” Walking together in the semi-darkness and the strange silence, they finally reached their home, the police and fire department now absent. Black scorch marks could be seen at the tops of the doors and windows.

              They all stood in the kitchen and found exactly what they expected. An empty house, moderate smoke and fire damage but still inhabitable. It was close to a year before the mess was cleaned up, though the smell of smoke still hung in the air and emanated from the carpets and draperies.

              “Can we get pizza tonight?” one of the children asked.

              “Yes, honey, I think that would be a good idea,” the mother answered. “Someone can order it online and we’ll all go pick it up.”

              Sitting in a circle on the living room floor, the three boxes of pizza spread out before them, the mother kept the conversation going with inanities and silly stories. She could see the pain and confusion in their eyes but did her best to distract them from the reality that was now theirs.

              “Now what?” the youngest asked.

              “Well…” the mother said, “we’ll finish our pizza and then we can all watch a movie together.”

              “That’s not what I meant,” the little girl said. “You know… now what?”

              “There’s lots we can do,” one of the older children said. “We’ll just find some way to move on and everything will be better.”

              One of the older children walked into the kitchen and stared at the silver eye hooks that had been fastened into the floor. Retrieving a set of pliers from the junk door by the refrigerator, he slowly turned each hook from its place in the linoleum. Dropping them into the garbage can, he took the stairs into the basement and closed his bedroom door behind him.

              One by one the children disappeared from the living room until the mother sat alone and looked at the blackened marks like charred tongues upon the walls.