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Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #631671
A story in ninety percent dialogue
The Locked Room


         A frightened young woman pounded on the locked door. “Please, please answer me. I know someone is out there. Why am I locked in here? Please let me out of this room! Talk to me!

         “No answer, again no answer... I don’t understand... I think I hear someone on the other side... I think...

         "If I press my ear really hard against the door, maybe I can hear.

         "Here I am talking to myself again. I have to hear... Oooh, I can hear voices. Shhh, Maggie, be quiet and listen. Two men... must be guards or something."

          Faintly she heard a gruff voice complain, "About time. I was supposed to be relieved ten minutes ago. Wait a minute, you're not Taylor. Don't think I know you."

         "Yeah, I know. The boss just decided I should take this shift. I'm new, wasn't supposed to start until late tonight."

         Maggie frowned in thought. That voice. Sounds so familiar, almost like... no, Brad's dead.

         "Then where's Taylor? He's been with the Rocinni family longer than me," the first guard questioned the new one.

         "Don't know. Wasson just yanked me out of bed and said get down here. I got lost. That's why I'm late. What in the... what are we guarding down in this hole?"

         "Didn't Wasson tell ya?"

         "Nah, just told me to hurry. I was supposed to have gotten the grand tour before my shift."

         "Well, if they hired ya, they must a thought you can be trusted."

         "I suppose. I sure don't plan on telling any of the family's secrets. Happen to like breathing too well."

         "Some kid of the DA's on the other side of the door. The guy thought he could send old Mr. Rocinni's nephew to jail and not pay for it. Mr. Rocinni decided to let high-and-mighty Mr. Cowder find out what it's like to have family locked away somewhere."

         "That's the DA's daughter in there? Man, why aren't the cops all over the place lookin' for her?"

         "The Rocinnis are smart. They ain't asking for no money, nothing. There's no trail for the cops to follow." The man half-laughed, half-snorted. "Seems to be working, the nephew's case has had one delay after another, on an open and shut case, too."

         "Then why..."

         "Hey, I've answered enough questions. I want to get out of here. Huh, have fun pacing the hall and looking at walls and the door. By the way, she yells out a lot wanting someone to talk to her. She also yaps to herself all the time."

         "You can hear her?"

         "Only when she yells. Other times, just the sound of her voice going on and on and on. I gotta go."

         "Sure. Enjoy your time off."

         The woman in the room waited until she knew the one man left before she begged, “Please! you out there, just say a few words. I’m so tired of just hearing my own voice. I'm going crazy...

         "Yes, I know... I know I talk aloud... all the time, but I have to... to hear something. Even if my own voice... Just say a few words, please.”

         “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

         “Please, it’s been so long...” Her voice broke on a sob.

         “Lady, I’m not supposed to talk to you, but...”

         “But?”

         “Don’t cry any more. I can't stand a woman crying.”

         “Then you’ll let me out?”

         “I can’t do that.”

         “But why? Why am I here? I don’t understand...”

         “I don’t know. I just follow orders.”

         “Those sound like familiar words.”

         “What do you mean, familiar?"

         “Have you ever read any history? Heard about World War Two and the Nazi soldiers?”

         “I see. You think I'm a Nazi?”

         “They were just following orders, too, but they herded innocent people to gas chambers!”

         “Hey, wait a minute. No one said anything about killing you or anything like that.”

         “Sure, sure. You sound so calm, so confident. Aren’t you a bit curious as to why I’m locked in a room, why I never see anyone, why no one is supposed to talk to me?”

         “No, ma’am.”

         “Uh-huh. You know, don’t you? You don’t have to ask, you know.”

         "No, ma'am."

         "Please open the door."

         “I’d like to, but if I did, then the whole plan would be...”

         “Would be what?”

         "Nothing. I've said too much already."

         "Your voice sounds different than when I heard you talking to the other guard. Now it sounds rougher, gruffer somehow. Do I know you?"

         "When I talked to... you could hear us?"

         "Only if I pressed my ear against the door really hard." She paused when she heard the guard mutter something. "What did you say? I don't think..."

         “Nothing. Listen, I have to shut up. It’s almost time for your dinner to be brought. Listen, no one can know I talked to you.”

         “Okay. I’ll watch the little door where the trays are pushed through. Then I’ll know when I can talk to you again.”

         “Woman! Don’t you dare! When it’s safe, I’ll talk to you. Don’t you dare act like we’ve ever talked to each other. Do you understand?”

         “I... uh... yes.”

         “Now stand back and be quiet.”

         “Why..." With a frown she stalked away from the door. "Hmmm, I should be far enough away now that no one can hear what I say. But I can still hear me. Guess since dinner's coming, I better wash my hands. I’m so glad my ‘room’ has a private bathroom.

         "I may as well keep talking, just in case someone else has listened to me before...

         “I know, dear God, that things could be worse. I know I could be using a pot or pail or, horrible thought, a corner of my prison for... At least I have water and a toilet. Yes, I need to be thankful for what I have, I guess. And I know You’re with me. I wish You talked aloud, though." She finished washing when the clang of the small door announced the delivery of her dinner tray.

         “Ah, dinner is served. Another thing I don’t understand... the food is delicious and apparently not drugged. I just do not understand. Never mind, file it away. Let’s see what’s for dinner. Yummy! Shrimp, baked potato, salad... Hey! Outside the door! Don’t you wish you could have dinner with me. Oh, funny, funny, I'm really starting to lose it. Guess that’s what happens when I talk to myself so much.

         “Thank you, Lord, for this meal. Help me to endure and return home soon. Amen.

         “No need to hurry through my meal. What do I have to do for the rest of the night but pace... talk to myself... pace some more until I’m tired enough to sleep?

         “At least I can tell when it’s light and when it’s night, with that tiny window way up high. Oh, my, I rhymed, light and night. Ummm, doesn’t take much to entertain me any more. What! That sounded like a knock.”

         “Hey, lady?”

         At the sound of the guard's voice, Maggie rushed to the door. “Yes, yes, I’m here.”

         “My shift is about over. So that no one wonders what’s happened, you might want to yell through the door a few times, ask someone to speak to you.”

         “Whew! I hadn’t thought of that. Okay, I will.”

         “I don't know when my next shift will be.”

         “Why are you helping by talking to me?”

         “I’ve got my reasons. Don’t bug me about it, though.”

         “Will you tell me your name? What should I call you?”

         “Call me ‘hey, you.’ I don’t care. My name isn’t important.”

         “It is... to me. Don’t... you have any... idea of what it... means to me... to have human contact?”

         “Okay, okay, don’t get all teary on me. Call me Hank.”

         “Do you... want my name?”

         “Nah, I know who you are.”

         “Oh, of course. It’s just been so long...”

         “Yeah, guess it has.”

         “Can you tell me how long I’ve been here? I tried to keep track, but... oh, well, if you're new you wouldn't know.”

         “Three months and twelve days.”

         “What? You know to the day? How? Why?”

         “Be quiet, here comes my replacement.”

         Maggie turned from the door, mumbling to herself. “I’ll just finish my dinner, then after I put my tray back through the slot, I’ll pound on the door and yell again.

         “Hank, huh? He has a rough voice, from what I can hear through the door, but it sure did sound familiar when he was talking to the other guard. So familiar... I must really be going crazy... but..." She shook her head.

         "He must have talked to me right against the wood. I could hear him clearly. I’ve pressed my ear against that rough wood so many times trying to hear anything... Wonder why the guards don't talk when they change shifts? Maybe I've just never listened at the right times."

          As she chewed her next bite, she wondered why the guard's voice bothered her. I guess I just thought he sounded like Brad. Her eyes closed for a moment. I miss him so much. Why did he have to take that assignment for Interpol? Why did he have to go after the Rocinni family? Huh, if I think some gangster sounds like Brad, I'm losing it for sure.

         Later, after finishing her dinner and pushing the tray through the delivery door, the woman pounded on the door, begged for someone to talk to her, and then walked to-and-fro in the room.

         “Well, I’ve paced at least two miles. I don’t have to worry about dinner settling on my hips. Guess it’s time to go pound and beg some more.

         “Please, talk to me! I need someone to talk to me!

         “Ouch, I got a splinter! Oh, bother, just what I need. Maybe if I use my teeth... there... Wow! that left a hole. Yuck! blood... Maybe some tissue...”

         Someone pounded on the door. “Lady!”

         “What?" She recognized Hank's voice. "I thought you’d left?”

         “Get back in the bathroom and close the door!”

         “What? Why?”

         “Don’t ask questions, just go!”

         “Bossy, too. Oh, well, I needed some tissue for this place on my hand. I’ll just close the door..."

         An explosion shook the walls and threw Maggie to the floor.

         “Yeeak! What in the world was that? What... Ooof, this floor is sure hard.”

         “Look, lady, do you want out or not?”

         She looked up to the large man standing in the doorway. “Of... of course. So you’re Hank? Why do you have your face covered?”

         “Yes, yes, I’m Hank. Now come on before half of the world crashes down on us.”

         "Then help me off this floor."

         "Yes, ma'am. Now take off out the door to the hallway and turn right. Keep running as fast as you can. I'll be right behind you."

         “Why... why... did you... save me?”

         “Your parents wanted me to. Hurry! Out this door and down that path through the trees.”

         As they ran, Maggie panted, “You... aren’t... even... breathing hard.”

         “In shape. Now save your breath and keep running.”

         “O...kay.”

         Maggie broke through the trees to a clearing where her father stood beside a dark sedan. “Maggie!”

         “Dad... you’re... here?”

         “Yes, now quickly in the car. We have to get out of here!”

         “Where’s... Hank?”

         “He’ll stay back long enough to be sure we get away.”

         “But... Dad, he saved... me.”

         “I know, honey. I know. He’ll join us later. Right now I need to get you to safety. Your mother is frantic.”

         “Safety. That sounds... so good. Dad, why... why was I locked in that room?”

         “One of the people I'm trying to send to prison has some powerful friends, the Rocinni family.”

         “I overheard that you were prosecuting a nephew, but what did they want with me?”

         “Make me see what they could do, I guess. I never received anything but an email stating I might never see you again. They would let me know once they made up their minds.”

         “Who’s Hank?”

         “He’s former special ops. Uh, he and your brother spent some time together overseas. He, uh, he'll let you know more when he can.”

         “Oh? When he can? Oh, well, I’m glad he found me.”

         “I knew if he couldn’t, we probably never would.”

          When days passed with Maggie hearing nothing from the man who rescued her, she cornered her father. "Dad, why haven't I heard from Hank. You've never told me anything about him, how he was able to find me, nothing."

         "It's really not my story, honey. I promised I wouldn't tell you anything, yet."

         "Why, Dad? Surely you can tell me something?"

         "Whew. Well, I can tell you that detectives had been searching for you for nearly two months before 'Hank' came back..."

         "Came back? What do you mean 'came back'?"

         "Maggie, do you want me to tell you what I can, or do you want me to tell you nothing?"

         "All right, tell me what you can, but I don't understand why all the mystery."

         "He found you because he had been working undercover for nearly a year, working his way into the Rocinni family for another reason. Now, be glad to know that much. The time will come when you'll know the rest."

         "But, Dad..."

         "Maggie, enough."

         "Okay, Dad, for now."

         Two months after she had escaped the locked room, Maggie entered her father's downtown office.

         “Dad, Why did you want me to meet you here?”

         “Because, Maggie, it’s time.”

         “Time for what?”

         “For you to ‘meet’ Hank.”

         “Hank’s here? Where?”

         “I’ll send him in. Be happy, honey.”

         “Be happy... “

         “Hi, Maggie.”

         Shock at first paralyzed her, then awareness. “You’re not Hank... no, no, you’re not alive...”

         “Whoa! easy, don’t faint on me.” The familiar voice caressed her as his arms gathered her close.

         “Don’t faint... you’re dead... they told us you died.” Her hands barely brushed his face. "You died... over a year... the explosion... the embassy... said you were dead."

         “I know, sweetheart. For a long time, the doctors didn’t know if I would survive or not. No one knew who I was, not even me. Then I had to finish the job, get the Rocinnis.”

         “But, why didn’t you tell me when... why did you let me think you were... you didn’t even...”

         “I couldn’t say anything in that dungeon where the mob kept you. I had to force myself to forget all I knew and felt... had to keep it hidden until I could get you out. I couldn't reveal anything that might threaten your escape. You gave me a scare when you thought you recognized my voice."

         “Why did you talk to me, then?”

         “I couldn’t stand the sound of your crying out, wanting to hear another voice.”

         She covered her eyes with a trembling hand. “Oh, Brad, I thought I’d die when we heard you had been killed.”

         “I know, sweetheart. I wanted to come straight to you once I knew what, where, who I was.”

         “But you didn’t.”

         “I couldn’t until we knew who wanted me dead.”

         Her eyes searched his face. “You know now?”

         “Yes, the Rocinni family. They had gotten word that someone getting close was in that restaurant, but that’s another story with another happy ending. Maggie?”

         “Uh-huh?”

         “Do you, I mean, could you love me again?”

         “What a stupid question! No, don’t you dare take your arms from around me! I can’t love you again because I never stopped." Her arms snaked around his neck. "Oh, my love, hold me. Hold me closer.”

         “Forever, sweetheart, forever.”

© Copyright 2003 Vivian (vzabel at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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