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The Naked Moment Ruben kept his distance from the man pacing the
width of the jail cell. He looked at the man’s back as he stalked away from
him, and dropped his gaze when the man turned and walked the opposite way,
avoiding eye contact with the bloodstains on his shirt and turquoise blazer. He
kept his face to the chipped concrete floor while the man muttered
incomprehensible things to himself. For five minutes it was all he’d done, ever
since the policeman opened the cell to bring him inside. The man shouted through
the bars for his phone call. “Cool it,” the policeman told him as he
locked the cell, then walked away with a deliberate slow step. “You’ll get
your call after I eat.” As the policeman went through the narrow hallway he
mumbled, “Wife killer.” And that sent the man into a fit of rage. He
threw himself at the bars, trying to wedge his head between the cold green steel
while shouting obscenities, and Ruben shrank within himself from his end of the
bench. The man’s hot anger wore off after a minute, and he contented himself
with the restless pacing of a caged animal. The anger simmered to a dull heat inside the
man, his pacing slowed down. He began to take in his surroundings, and he
recognized his friend. “Ruben!?” The man said, leaning over to
look at him. “Hi, Douglas,” Ruben answered. He raised
his eyes to acknowledge Douglas’ gray beard and diminishing hairline, the bald
pate red with unleashed anger. “Ruben!” Douglas exclaimed, smiling and
coming over with an extended hand toward Ruben. He slid away on the bench,
looking at Douglas’ hand like it was contagious. Douglas looked at it himself,
saw the dried blood on it. “Oh,” he said, as though seeing it for the
first time. “It’s not mine,” he explained. “It’s
actually…my, my wife’s.” His brow clouded over again. “Claudia. You
remember her right.” “I met her once,” Ruben said. “She was
nice.” Douglas nodded to himself. “I guess someone
else thought that too. I caught her in bed with another man.” Ruben raised his eyebrows, but offered nothing
more. Douglas nodded again. “She was screaming like
someone was beating her.” He sat down on the bench a short distance away from
Ruben. After staring into space for a moment he covered his face with his hands.
“She never screamed like that with me,” he said; it came out smothered. He
stayed in that position and started weeping. “And the guy, I didn’t see him,
but I know he didn’t get a chance to grab his clothes. He jumped out the
window naked and bolted down the street.” He took a few moments to cry. Ruben looked at him with pity. “And she, she wouldn’t even feel shame, or
apologize, or even try to explain!” he roared through his hands. Ruben hesitated a few moments before putting a
hand on Douglas’s shoulder. “God damn it! God damn her.” He cried a
little more. From the other cells came hoots and catcalls
that went ignored. “I tried to reason with her. She said the time for that was
past, that all she had left for me was pity.” Douglas looked up again. Ruben could almost see
the scene replayed in Douglas’ hazel eyes. “Well, I showed her. I picked up
a hammer and I showed her. I made her scream like she was screaming with that,
that bastard!” “I’m really sorry Doug,” Ruben said,
awkwardly patting Douglas on the shoulder. Douglas nodded again. From another cell a prisoner said, “You got
yourself a new girlfriend. Reach under the skirt and cop a feel.” Douglas and Ruben ignored him. After a few
moments Douglas gained enough composure to talk. “What about you Ruben? Where
you’ve been all this time.” “Oh, visiting friends and family, working.
The usual,” Ruben said. “And what’s with you in this place?”
Douglas asked as he looked at Ruben’s face. It was fuller that he remembered,
but still possessing features that were pleasant to the eye, still appealing to
women, as Douglas remembered. “You were always an easygoing guy. You’re the
last man I ever thought I’d run into here.” Douglas thought about that for a moment. “Not
that I frequent this place.” He shifted his position, turning toward Ruben
with interest. “What did they bring in you here in for?” “Running naked on the street,” Ruben said.
____________________ Mel says: “My short fiction, essays and film columns have been published in a number of magazines in the United States, England, Australia and Canada. I split my time between Boston, Massachusetts and the Eastern Coast of Florida. I am of Hispanic origin, single, and attractive (and I like girls too.)” |
(c) Defenestration Magazine, 2004