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2018-05-23
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Poetry

Summary:

"Poetry is a deal of joy, and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary." -- Khalil Gibran

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Work Text:

 

"You know," Bob Rebadow said, sounding nostalgic, "I've been here a lot longer than anyone would ever like to be. I've seen nearly every way a man can die in Oz..but you and Tobias...you find every way to survive. To live. You must know how rare that is. To live in a place where any semblance of life seems to just grow numb and die? And how is Tobias, Chris?"

Chris Keller cocked a brow at the question, and leaned back on his chair in the Em City quad : "His kids are missing. He's a wreck. He's stuck in this fucking place like the rest of us.He has nightmares.."

Chris cast a look behind him, at the sight of Beecher asleep in the bottom bunk. Rebadow flipped another three cards in his solitaire game : "But not last night."

Chris turned back around so slowly that Bob could hear the plastic chair creak as Chris faced forward again. "No." Chris replied firmly, "Not last night."

 

"But you did." It's a soft statement. Not mocking, or accusing. Just truth.

"You bored at night, Rebadow? You gotta listen to everything around you?"

"No, I suppose I'm not bored. Just intrigued. If I'm being intrusive, let me know. Perhaps if I wasn't in the pod next to you both, we wouldn't be having this conversation.."

"Yeah. Had a nightmare. Had my fair fucking share of them and then some. Hasn't everyone?"

"Of course we all have. Everyone's afraid of something. And in the dark, fear gets stronger. In Oz, here in the dark, fear becomes what we revolve around..."

 

Chris drummed his fingers on the tabletop as Rebadow folded his card game and started a new one. Keller's lost in thought until a sound behind him makes him snap alert. Rebadow watched one of the new additions to Adebisi's crew wander around them. The idiot actually taps on the glass of the pod he's in front of, making Beecher stir. Bob is rather grateful that he can't read exactly what kind of death is lurking behind Keller's eyes as he casually got up and wandered past the clueless homeboy and into his pod where Beecher slept.

 

"Do you realize we haven't had a quiet night since Keller got to Oz?" Busmalis groused. Bob turned and said, "I've realized that things have changed since his arrival, and that quiet nights are few and far between...but a quiet night in Em City usually means someone's dead.."

To this, Agamemnon said nothing, but then spoke up,"You've been sitting here since I went to the library, Bob. You still playing cards?"

"Not really...just watching." Busmalis looked at the crowd of inmates in front of the television, and scratched his head, "Watching what?"

Rebadow continued flipping cards without really paying attention to his game, "Them."

Busmalis's eyebrows quirked : "Ah. Them. What are they doing?"

Rebadow huffed a breath and folded his cards, "Trying to live."

 

"It seems wrong, really," Busmalis mused, watching Keller sit on the floor against his bunk, and open a book.

"Wrong..?" Rebadow asked. "Them. Together. In here."

"Well, could you ever imagine what their lives would be like outside?"

"No."

"Neither can they. And if they do, it's just making things worse. Don't want what you know you can't have. Just be grateful for what you have. Especially in here."

 

"That's new," Busmalis observed."I've never seen Keller read to him before."

"Me neither. I've only ever heard him."

"Oh yeah? When?" The two watch Beecher roll over in his sleep, to throw an arm across Keller while he reads. Neither know quite what to say as Keller held Beecher's arm against his chest.

"Bob?"

"Hmm?"

"When'd you hear it?"

Rebadow shuffled his cards, "New Year's Eve..it sounded like Neruda."

 

"Don't remind me of that. Eight hours. Eight hours. Eight hours of lights out, Eight hours of that. Of them. That can't be healthy, can it? I mean, y'know, eight hours WITH the hacks patrolling? That's some scary sense of timing. And, okay, they're strong, and uh, healthy guys, but uh.."

"Busmalis..."

"But seriously?! EIGHT HOURS? And that was just the first day!"

"Busmalis...."

"What?!"

Rebadow tilted his head towards the subject of Agamemnon's rant, and smiled. Keller's staring at them, bemused, one hand marking his place in his book, the other with fingers tightly threaded in Beecher's.

"You, uh, think he knows we're talking about them?" Busmalis asked.

 

Keller materialized in front of Busmalis before either he or Rebadow notice, his shower kit on one hip.

"Anything you wanna know there, Busmalis, you just go ahead and ask.."

Every question Agamemnon had mulled over in his head evaporated. "You're leaving Beecher alone?"

Keller looked back at their pod, "For now." Keller said. "I don't want to spend the next week in Ad Seg on that cold goddamn floor...so I'm gonna take a nice hot shower." His smile became Sphinx-like. "There's only so much I can take before...well...y'know.."

As he walked off, Busmalis turned to Rebadow : "How in the hell can someone go from hand-holding to masturbation? How does THAT work? All they did was hold hands!"

Rebadow just shakes his head, "To you, that's all they did..."

 

 

"He's never getting out. Why should it matter?" Busmalis said, watching Keller walk away.

Bob Rebadow turned an eight over in his Solitaire game. "But you see? That's why it matters. He's never getting out. Chris Keller will die in Oz. And he won't be the first. Certainly not the last. He's trying to live, though. Don't you think that's admirable? To try and live in a place like this, and not just exist?"

Busmalis pulled at his hat, "I just try to forget I'm here."

Rebadow turned over the Jack of Spades : "We all do, Agamemnon. We all do."

 

There was a long moment of  the noise of Emerald City before Busmalis spoke again : "Beecher's asleep. How can he sleep with what's happened? I'd be..." He can't finish his thought. "I don't think I could sleep, " he finally said.

"I had the feeling that if he could have, he'd have screamed forever, " Rebadow remarked, "I thought Querns would have moved him to Solitary after what happened in the library."

Busmalis shuddered, "Don't say that word, Bob. And that would have been the worst thing to do!"

"Precisely why Querns would have done it. Best intentions and all.." Rebadow said.

 

"Homeboy's back, " Busmalis muttered. Rebadow's chair creaked as he half-turned to see the same clueless, skinny homeboy drift around the closed pod door behind which Beecher slept.

"Shit..." Busmalis said. Rebadow turned back to see Keller across the quad, out of the showers. Keller slid through the crowd and the tables like a shark scenting blood. Rebadow cast his eyes to the cards in front of him, and flipped one from the deck. Ace of Spades. Rebadow put it atop his Solitaire line. "Lockdown tonight, " he said to Busmalis.

"Huh?" Busmalis said, "Tonight? For what?"

Rebadow pushed the ace across the table.

"Did God tell you, Bob?"

Rebadow shook his head, "Keller did."

 

There was a chill in the room that was familiar. Rebadow had felt it most while he had been strapped into an electric chair. But now, the cold was wafting off of Keller like a wind. It felt like Death. Rebadow put his cards on the table. "And Tobias taught him chess..." he mused.

"What's that, Bob? You say something?"

"I was merely saying there is still poetry in the world. Even in Oz."

 

"Are you kids playing nice or do you need a time-out?" came a tired, sarcastic voice. Both Rebadow and Busmalis looked over.

Keller smiled thinly at the wary homeboy : "Why there's no problem here, Officer Murphy. The new fish here just didn't see the sign on the door here." Keller touched the pod door.

"Oh yeah? And what's it say?" Murphy asked, hands on his hips.

Keller clasped his hands in front of him, "Danger. Lifeguard not on duty. No swimming."

 

"He scares me, " Busmalis said simply, looking at Keller. Rebadow nodded thoughtfully, "He should."

"You aren't?"

Bob Rebadow shuffled his cards again, "No. Because I don't feed or tease the animals. " He flipped down the King of Spades. And then the Jack of Spades. "I have no quarrel with Keller, and I have nothing he wants. In a sense, I'm not on the food chain."

Busmalis pulled at his hat again, "I think he respects you. What you said. You know, during count this morning."

"It needed to be said, so I said it. Who was really going to argue with an old man?" Rebadow said, smiling a little.

 

"I see anyone around this pod for longer than it takes to blink, that unlucky bastard gets bedpan duty in the hospital. I mean it, " Murphy said. He pointed at Keller, "You, find somewhere else to be for at least ten minutes." Murphy looked at Keller with a Don't be a hardass for once sort of look, and grabbed the Homeboy by his jacket, "And you, if you don't want to choke on that hat in your sleep, you come with me."

 

Keller turned lazily on a heel, and cast a glance at Rebadow, who nodded once. Busmalis watched Keller walk up to Hack Central and speak to Mineo. After a couple of minutes, Mineo pointed to a new hack and then at Keller, and then at the Em City gates. When Keller and the hack were out of sight, Busmalis asked, "Why does he get an escort? Who's gonna whack him?"

Rebadow pursed his lips and moved the Queen of Diamonds onto the King of Spades. "It's not for him. It's for everyone else."

 

------------------

 

"He's back, " Busmalis said.

"Who now?" Rebadow asked.

"Keller."

Chris Keller strode through the gates minus his shirt, which was bundled in his hands, and with a book under one arm.

"I don't see any blood, " Busmalis whispered.

Rebadow  shook his head, "You never will with him."

 

Murphy was back, Bob saw. He rapped a hand against the pod door, and gestured to Keller, "You got fifteen minutes til Count. Shower's cleared." Murphy looked at the bottom bunk; Beecher lay there and stared at the mattress above his head, blinking slowly after a minute.

"You need help with him?" Murphy said to Keller.

"Should be fine, " is all Murphy gets as a reply as Keller hauls Beecher to his feet. Chris tries not to drag him, but Toby's just not...there. He's gone again, wherever he goes inside his head. But there are no rhymes. There's no sound now. But Toby's still warm and breathing, and that gives Chris hope. Toby's not dead. But he's close to soul-dead. The worst death in Oz. Chris opened the pod door, and felt ten thousand eyes on them. Someone shouted, "Bring out your dead!" in the stony silence of Em City. Chris felt the stares leave them and center on the soon -to -be -very-dead commentator. Toby shuffled against Chris in a way reminiscent of a drunk. Except Toby is grief-drunk. Intoxicated on his own misery.

"C'mon, cold shower time, " Keller said to him. "Just kidding, Tobe. Hot shower. Warm you up. Get you clean. " Chris whispered.

 

Chris dropped the face he usually wore, once inside the shower room. This was Toby next to him. And he smelled of grief, and fear, and sadness. Toby smelled of everything that would get him killed. Sister Pete'd have her tidy religious brain spun, she walked in here right now, Chris thought mildly. Keller had asked Murphy for a chair, and he'd brought in the one Hill used. Toby was sitting on it and letting the water run into his eyes. Chris couldn't help but think it all just looked like tears around his feet. Murphy stood guard outside the showers before Count. With his back turned, he saw nothing but the prisoners in the quad, milling around and throwing looks towards the showers. Murphy shifted his weight and took a glance into the shower room -- and had to blink twice. Chris Keller was kneeling on the tiles, not caring that his clothes were getting soaked. Toby was wiping water from his eyes, "What are you doing?" he croaked out.

"Cleaning you up, " Chris said, pulling Toby's t-shirt over his head. "You need a shower, and you can't do it yourself."

Toby bristled, "I'm not weak."

Chris stared at him, "Right now you are. And everyone can see it. You can't be in here by yourself. That's why I'm in here, and Murphy's outside."

Chris could feel Murphy's stare. He met it with his own, and tried to put some rage behind it, some fury, but there was no reproach from Murphy. Chris would stake his own worthless soul on that.

Chris rubbed at his eyes, "Toby, fuck, I'm trying to help you here, and you're giving me shit for it."

"I can fucking wash myself, thank you." Toby snapped.

Chris handed him the soap wordlessly and stood up. "You've got ten minutes, or whenever Murphy calls for Count."

 

Toby bit his lip, "Chris..don't listen to me, okay? I don't know what I'm saying anymore."

Chris walked back and took the soap. "Might want to shut your eyes, you know how this shit stings." Toby felt Chris's fingers on his scalp, working the soap into his hair. He didn't want to think about what he must have smelled like. Toby just felt dead. Empty. If not for Chris's watchfulness, for his love, Toby thought someone would have shanked him earlier, if he'd gone anywhere by himself. Especially the showers.

 

"Chris, I..." Toby started, before Chris hushed him. "It can wait, Toby."

"No, it can't. Thank you. Thank you for watching out for me."

Chris was silent while he washed the soap out of Toby's hair, "I had to, " Chris said. His fingers swept the suds onto the tiles, and wandered to touch Toby's face. "I had to. I love you."

Murphy cleared his throat, "Five minutes." he said, simply. And turned his back again.

 

Chris stepped back when Toby stood up to rinse. "You know you're gonna have to walk out there. " Chris said, handing over a towel that Toby wrapped around himself.

"I know, " Toby replied.

Murphy walked into the shower room, "Beecher, I gotta say, I wish a shower made everyone in this rathole look as lively as you. You gonna be able to walk on out there?"

Toby nodded, "Yeah. Like every other day in Oz." The three men saw Querns walk down from Hack Central.  "What?!" Murphy asked, loudly, and shrugged. Querns pointed upwards and then a blaring sound filled the air. "Aw, for fuck's sake..." Murphy groaned. He cast a furtive glance at Beecher and Keller, and then stalked out into the quad, "LOCKDOWN! EVERYONE INSIDE! LOCKDOWN!" Toby felt Chris at his back, and felt a towel slung over his shoulder, "See, now no one's watching you. Lockdown's are useful that way, " Chris said, with a gleam in his eye and a satisfied smile on his face.

 

Rebadow shuffled his cards and heard the lockdown klaxon blare. On impulse, he flipped a card over : Jack of Diamonds. "The laughing boy, " Bob murmured. Looking up, he saw Toby cross the quad with Chris behind him. Chris was smiling. Busmalis stood up and walked into his shared pod.

Rebadow stood as Keller passed him, "Did you win a lot today there, Rebadow?" Chris asked. Bob Rebadow took in the sight of Chris and Tobias, and said, "I won enough to satisfy me for today. And you?"

Chris Keller merely smiled.

To Toby, Bob said : "You're looking better, Tobias." And touched Toby's arm.

"One day at a time, Bob. I can't see tomorrow from where I'm standing." Toby nodded to the older man and walked into his pod. Rebadow and Keller exchanged a glance, and then went inside their respective pods.

 

-------------------

 

"So what the fuck happened?" Murphy asked Querns, on their way up the stairs to the C.O post.

"Guys from the kitchen reported they found a Homeboy drowned in a sink. When they brought him to Dr. Nathan, she found the bastard had actually choked to death. On his do-rag."

Murphy stared off into Em City, his eyes wandered from pod to pod. Looking fixedly at every man he could see. His gaze drifted over one pair in particular.

"You have any ideas, Officer Murphy? Anyone say anything to you today?" Querns asked.

"Just the same shit I hear every day. 'I'm innocent, let me out.' " Murphy said, and sat down on his chair.

 

------------------------------

 

"What did you get up to today, when you left this morning?" Toby asked from the bottom bunk, a little before lights out. Chris stood at the sink, brushing his teeth. "Went to the library. Read a little. With my trusty hack at my side." Toby sat up and swung his legs off the bunk, "Why'd you need a hack? Is it Schillinger?" Chris shook his head and spat, "No, one of the Homeboys. Looked like a new fish. I had some words with him while you were sleeping. Then Murphy came along and decided I needed a hack because I don't play well with the rest of the kids in the yard."

Toby looked at Chris's discarded hoodie on his foot locker, and wondered why it was bunched up so carefully.

"And then what'd you do?" Toby asked.

"I went to the gym, went a few rounds on the heavy bag, got some boxing tips from Pancamo, some cigarettes from O Reily, and then I came back here. And decided you needed a shower." Chris rinsed again, and spat again. "Which was a great decision on my part, considerin' I don't think shit through." He grinned.

Mineo called "LIGHTS OUT!" and Em City went dark. Chris put his toothbrush away and wiped his face. Then he picked up his bundled shirt and went to his bunk. Toby moved over but Chris sat down on the pod floor with his back against the mattress frame.

 

Toby watched Chris for a moment before his eyes prickled and he had to shut them. Toby sniffled, hating his grief but not wanting to give it up.

"Hey..." Chris whispered, and Toby felt those hands that had helped him today, wipe his face gently. "Here, " Chris said, taking one of Toby's hands and placing something small into it. "Try not to throw this one, okay?" Toby stared at the peeled orange quarters on his palm. "O Reily says hang in there." Toby put an orange slice in his mouth, and chewed slowly. All he could taste lately was salt. Everything tasted like grief. But not this. It sort of tasted like life. Kinda sweet, kinda bitter. When the orange was gone, Chris put something chilled into Toby's empty hand. "It's purple today, " Chris said softly. Toby stared at the juice in his hand. "What else do you have in that sweater?" he asked. Chris pulled at a folded sleeve, and a book tumbled out. Chris picked it up and passed it to Toby, "The Art of War? Little light reading?" Toby said, sounding the closest to himself he'd been for a while. "Yeah, it's handy." Chris said. Toby drank the juice, grateful for the cold on his scratchy throat. Chris finally moved into his bunk, and Toby slid over so he could stretch out. "You sure this is okay? Mineo's on his rounds, " Toby said. Chris tucked an arm around Toby and hugged him close, "I think it's a quiet sort of night tonight."

 

Toby felt Chris pull him closer, and cover him with his blanket. Toby lay on Chris's chest, with an arm around him, and a palm over his most recent scar. Chris closed his hand over Toby's, holding it there. "Anything interesting in that book at all?" Toby whispered, "I mean, if you remember any of it. I'd like to hear it." Toby grew quiet then said, "I love hearing you."

Chris put his face in Toby's hair and breathed deeply. And sighed.

Very softly, Toby heard him like no one else will ever hear Chris Keller. And the truth of that both breaks his heart and makes it whole.

 

"Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,

And each doth good turns now unto the other:

When that mine eye is famish'd for a look,

Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,

With my love's picture then my eye doth feast

And to the painted banquet bids my heart;

Another time mine eye is my heart's guest

And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:

So, either by thy picture or my love,

Thyself away art resent still with me;

For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,

And I am still with them and they with thee;

Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight

Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight."

 

 

Toby raised his head, and caught Chris's eyes in the dim light, "That's not the Art of War."

Chris smiled at him, and Toby said, "You remembered a whole sonnet?" Chris bent his head, and kissed Toby, " I did. Because I love you, Toby. It makes me think of you."

Toby kissed him back, "I love you, Chris. Toby thought back to an earlier moment, as he lay with Chris's arms around him, how he'd said he couldn't see tomorrow from where he was standing.

Toby's glad he can't see tomorrow from where he is, because right now is too damn good to waste.

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, " Toby whispered.

"I love you, Toby, " Chris said, "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow."