Brief Candle
The compound's cafeteria was a windowless 33 foot by 48 foot room which was bathed, during operating hours, in a sterile pallor by six evenly spaced rows of florescent light banks. There were twelve circular plastic tables evenly positioned throughout the room that could be easily collapsed and piled against the wall to allow for fifty rows of folding chairs in the rare case of an assembly. The tables also had a vinyl non-stick surface from which condiments, saliva, blood and other matter could be easily removed with only a light application of detergent and a damp rag. Today breakfast was waffles and Captain Crunch.
Frank Kessler entered the cafeteria that morning to the familiar low-key hum of mindless and aimless conversation. It was early, and the tables were only sparsely populated, but the place would soon be overcrowded and because it was an unbearably hot summer. The two swiveling fans attached to the top of each far wall blew the smell of past sweat and mildew across the early morning congregation. Frank felt the familiar grinding pain in his hip as he walked towards his table. Sheldon and Phalem were too actively engaged in conversation to see him approach.
"…But they didn't have any milk again," Phalem was explaining with quiet resignation.
"So you put water on your cereal?" asked Sheldon.
"Well, I can't eat it dry."
"You ate it dry last week."
"Yes, but don't you remember I ended up with the winds something fierce?"
"That wasn't from the cereal, you dumb cluck!"
"How do you know?"
"Cereal doesn't give you the runs, and even if it did, putting water in it's not gonna help!"
"But it takes the air out of the cereal."
Sheldon buried his face in his left hand and shook his head. Phalem looked up from his quickly softening bowl of Captain Crunch and saw Frank coming. "Oh, hey, Frank."
Sheldon looked up with a start. "Frank! Thank god. We were getting worried. Why it's already…"he looked at his bare weathered wrist and remembered that his watch was gone, forever. "...well, it's late anyhow. Louie over there at table three was getting pretty excited at the prospect of you not showing up."
"Why? Is he the one bettin' on me?" Frank groaned slightly as he sank slowly into the metal folding chair.
"Yup," answered Sheldon. "He's the only one, as far as I know, that's put anything on you as yet, though."
"I suppose that's encouraging. What's the pool up to now?"
"Geez, it's gotta be up to around thirty by now."
Frank whistled and nodded his head respectfully.
"I don't know how you guys can gamble on something so morbid," Phalem piped up from his cereal.
"What the hell else have we got to do, Phalem?"
"They've got Scrabble in the rec room."
Sheldon shook his head and went back to eating his waffle. "Scrabble." Sheldon said, more to the waffle than anyone else.
Frank stood up slowly and stretched his back tenderly. "I guess I'll go grab breakfast." Sheldon nodded without looking up. "Watch yourself up there. I saw a couple of greenish looking ones up there. Don't let the bastards give you last weeks'." Frank nodded and started walking towards the lunch counter.
Two white suited attendants sat lazily at a smaller metal table on the far side of the cafeteria. One was reading a back issue of "Muscle and Fitness" and the other was fast asleep, his nose occasionally twitching and sniffing heartily at nothing. There was a gray worn spot on the drywall where he rested his head from extended years of this activity.
Frank furtively glanced at them through his thick glasses and, when he saw that
they were not watching him, or anything else too closely, veered slightly from his beeline toward the lunch line so that he could pass close by table three. As he approached it he began to walk even slower than usual. At the moment at which he was directly next to the table, his prescription bottle, which he was in the habit of carrying with him most of the time, fell from his hand and landed abruptly on the hard tile floor. As he bent his knees to pick up the bottle, he carefully reached over with his left hand and placed a small folded piece of paper into the open hand that had been waiting, upturned, just below the table. The recipient deliberately took the slip of paper and placed it in her lap. A moment later, the hand reappeared with a similar piece of paper. Frank took it between two fingers and stood up again. He placed the slip of paper reverently in his pocket and proceeded, once again, to the lunch line.
When Frank got back to his table, Sheldon and Phalem had already finished their breakfasts. Sheldon was reading a local newspaper with a furrowed brow and Phalem was uninterestedly spooning the now mellow flavored water from his bowl of cereal to his mouth.
"You look awfully smiley" Sheldon said when he saw Frank sit down with his tray. Frank nodded as he pulled out the slip of paper from his shirt pocket. He put it to his nose and sniffed deeply and sighed out the sweet flowered air.
"Is she putting perfume on the damn things now?" Frank just nodded, opened the paper and began to read.
"This is dangerous," said Phalem. "You know they don't allow relationships like that here."
"I know," said Frank patiently.
"You know, if they find out about you and Adeline, you'll be in big time trouble.
"They won't find out."
"I found out," Sheldon said. "Boy, did I find out."
"That was a one-time thing," said Frank.
"In a broom closet, Frank? I would hope you don't do that kind of thing too often. And…" Sheldon looked around suspiciously and lowered his voice accordingly. "And if they had sent anyone else but me in there to get the extra chairs for that horrid Death with Dignity Seminar, you two would have been reported on the spot!"
"But we weren't, were we?"
"Well, what can they really do to you if they do catch you?"
"Oh, there's things, Phalem. I've heard stories, horror stories. There's plenty of worse things than death out there for us. Think about it. Who has all the power? Who cleans us? Who feeds us? Who changes our bedpans?"
"Jeez, Sheldon!"
"I'm sorry, Frank, but I've heard some stuff that'd make your feet start to sweat. I
suppose you don't want to hear that right now though."
Frank nodded, still wrapped in the words of the letter.
"What's it say, anyway?"
"Does it matter?" answered Frank
"No. No, I suppose not."
The next morning at breakfast Frank was the first at the table. Sheldon entered the cafeteria shortly after Frank had managed to sit down and position his buttocks on the folding chair so as to distribute the pressure as evenly as possible. Sheldon slunk into the chair slowly and looked around him suspiciously as he positioned himself. Frank looked up from his green tea and saw that Sheldon's face was scrunched towards the center with worry. He just stared at the table. "What's the matter, Sheldon?"
"It's Phalem," replied Sheldon in a weak voice. "He's not coming to breakfast."
"Jesus," said Frank, bowing his head slightly. "Poor old Phalem. Well, I don't want to be too goulish about this pal, but don't you think that he's been on the way out for a while?"
"No. No, Frank, you don't seem to get me here. It doesn't bother me that he's dead. I mean I'm gonna miss the guy, yeah, but you're right, he was on the outs. No what's got me scared is there's talk goin' around that the death was not natural."
"Not natural?"
"You know, like maybe they pushed him along a little. Or maybe he asked for a glass of
warm water and they gave him a glass of strychnine juice."
"Strychnine juice? Jesus, Sheldon, you don't really think they…"
"Hey, guys!" Frank and Sheldon jumped at the sound of a voice so close. They had both
been lowering their voices and moving their heads closer to the tabletop.
"Howard," said Sheldon, exhaling deeply. "What brings you here?"
Howard was a tall and lanky man who generally sat down on hard folding chairs with relative confidence for a man his age. Today, however, he sat down with the care and caution of a man who has an invaluable piece of knowledge that he knows is very likely more valuable than himself. He sat down and brought his spindly hands to rest gently on the plastic tabletop.
"I found out what happened to Phalem," Howard said softly. The weight of the moment seemed to have been inaudibly carried through the room because six or eight people had additionally gathered around the table. Adeline casually pulled up a chair and positioned herself next to Frank. Frank moved over ever so slightly to allow space for her. Frank took a furtive glance around and then reached over with his right hand. He found her hand open and he wrapped his around it and squeezed gently as they looked on with the others.
Howard spoke slowly and deliberately and everyone listened intently to the story which followed.
"Phalem was, ah - was very weak, you know," he said as though carefully rehearsing and arranging some basic facts in his mind. "He was like, you know, a child, an infant. You know how they worry about babies turning over in cribs and suddenly, there's a sudden , you know--Frank, what do you call that when a baby can't--"
"Sudden infant death syndrome."
"Yea, that's right, it's sudden, it's,--my God, it's so hot in here. I feel like I'm gonna pass out. So, ah, no, I'm OK, Frank, so as, uh, I was coming back to my room from the hall john -I had a lot of gas--you know how Mr. Barry hates when we gas up the johns in our own room, so I went down the hall. I was in there awhile - It's kinda nice in there with the window open, ya know, and cool…Oh, Lord, it's hot in here!"
"Will you just tell it before I have a damn heart attack, Howard?" Sheldon's eyes seemed to be protruding toward Howard and he was leaning forward into Howard's face. "Just tell it!"
"I am, Shel, really, I… I'm telling it. On the way back to my room it was real quiet, I mean really quiet. I couldn't hear my slippers on the floor, so I listened harder 'cause I thought for a second I mighta gone deaf, you know, cause it was really quiet. But then there was this sound down the hall. From one of the rooms down the hall. Like somebody groaning from hearing some awful news, only with their mouth closed, like they didn't want to let it out. I thought it was me for a second, ya' know when it's late afternoon on a Tuesday and you know nobody's coming to--"
"Howard, look at me," Frank said. "No, you're looking off somewhere - look at me! Look at my eyes. Now tell me that you can hear me, Howard."
"Yes, I surely can, Frank,"
"Now then, Howard, I want you to concentrate and tell what happened before we all end up like Phalem, only laying right here at your feet!"
Howard coughed a whispery, secretive cough, and then he let it all out in one breath.. "The sound somehow got louder and yet softer as I got closer to Phalem's room, and then I looked in and there was Mr. Barry leaning over Phalem, real close, like he was examining Phalem's teeth, but he was bobbing up and down like he was doing little sissy push-ups on the edge of the bed and then I saw Phalem's bare feet kicking up one at a time like he was trying to climb a wall and I looked for his face and it wasn't there at the other end of the bed only the pillow, and it was bobbing up and down with the feet and Phalem's face was under the pillow and then I saw that Barry was like riding the pillow , holding it down, but lettin' it buck just a little and I thought he was doin' some kind a weird sex to Phalem and I sped up to get past and not get seen by Mr. Barry cause I think I heard myself moaning now so I sped up to get past but I knew what he was really doing and I could picture the way he smiles and I knew there was nothin' I could do but get away and I tried not to moan and just get to my room which I did.
"I stopped at the door and listened out in the hall which was dead quiet now or maybe I heard a quiet giggle but probably not and I wanted to run like hell cause I just saw Mr. Barry do a murder and I don't want to die too, not now, not ever, and not like that and I didn't want to get caught. I felt like I did the murder seein' it when I wasn't s'posed to and I wanted to run till I dropped dead and not get caught peekin' in like that when I shouldn't."
"Frank, Frank, you're hurting me!" Adeline said with a moderate tremor of urgency in her voice. Frank shook his head violently to shake the image that had lodged itself there and readjusted his grip on Adeline's hand, but continued to stare at the plastic tabletop.
"Jesus, Howard, don't be telling me this, I can't hear this." Sheldon was slapping his hands up against his ears ,then, up against his eyes, then back to his ears.
A silence passed through the group. After a long time, Frank was the first to speak audibly enough for the whole group to hear. "We have to do something."
"Good. That's a good idea, Frank," said Sheldon. "That's fantastic. Thank God you're here to come up with these ideas. In fact you and I are going to get up right now and go straight to the Administration and file a complaint! That'll teach the bastards!"
"We'll go to the Administration. But we need to all go together…"
"Whoa, hold on there just a minute, I see that fire in your eyes. You've got that irreconcilable vengeance in your heart, do you? Is every pore of your body opening up and screaming for blood? "Well, just wait a minute. Do you know how long that adrenaline kick's gonna last at your age? Even if it did get you and the others down the hall to the head office, Barry could bench press you! His arm's thicker than your thigh."
"Who's coming with me to the Administration?" Frank asked.
"Holy Christ, the man's really gonna do it," Sheldon said more as a general plea to the universe than to anyone in particular. "The man's gonna start a riot in a nursing home."
The air had picked up an electric tickle and some of the younger members were catching on to what was going on. Frank had awakened the sometimes dormant but universal impulse in the men's hearts to mob, and one by one, each heard the familiar sound of the blood rushing through the head as the heart rate increases.
"Now Frank, let's be reasonable here. Look at what we have to work with."
Sheldon waved his hand at the group. There was the sound of chairs sliding against the floor as the men began to standup, one faltering one at a time.
"What the hell is this?"
Finally, Frank slowly stood up. He stared at the door that led to the hallway that led to the administration office. He stood erect and tense. "You guys remember the Seabees?" Many of the men in the room were in fact members of the navy's Construction Battalion not too many eons ago, it seemed to them now. "Can do!" Frank said, with a delicious richness in his voice. "Can do! The crowd echoed spastically. "Can do!" shouted Frank. The crowd had found the rhythm and was beginning to take the form of a respectable-sized rabble. "Can do!" shouted the crowd in return. Frank turned his heel military style and started marching towards the door. The core group followed obediently, marching in time as best they could. They were followed by the rest of the congregation, who, if they did not know what was going on, certainly enjoyed the excitement. Sheldon brought up the rear, shaking his head and whining to himself.
The group entered the hallway and started a procession. Their leader disappeared inside one of the rooms and for a moment, everyone panicked. But Frank returned and carefully placed the item that he had retrieved from his room in his pocket.
The procession came within sight of the Administration office. The office was set at the convergence of the two main hallways. At the point where the structure projected
furthest was the service window from which one of the secondary assistants attended to the secretarial duties. Frank's teeth clenched and his heartbeat rose as he saw Mr. Barry at the front desk. Frank opened the door closest to him and tore the curtain from the window in that room. He crossed the hall and removed a plunger from the storage closet. Mr. Barry had not seen the mob outside the office yet. Frank wrapped the curtain around the end of the plunger and tied it off into a ball. He held it away from himself and reached into his pocket and removed a green plastic Bic lighter. He lit it and held it under the curtain and with his teeth clenched tightly, he watched as the material caught and the flames grew and toxic smoke began to billow. The rabble seemed to draw strength from the flame. Their confidence swelled as the flame engulfed the plunger. They started towards the Administration area and broke into a run. Frank let out a howling war cry as he burst through the Administration office door.
The next morning Sheldon walked alone through the well-lit hallways of St. Bell's Hospital. A nurse appeared from around the corner and waved him toward a doorway. Sheldon walked briskly toward her. Adeline met him at the door, tears flowing freely down her face. Sheldon hugged her gently and walked her to the bench in the hallway.
"But why Frank?"
"I don't know, Addie," Sheldon patted her back gently. "I don't know. Not that it will make you feel any better, but they all put up quite a fight even after we left. They got pushed back to the cafeteria but they were able to hold their ground at least until the police came. They put up a hell of fight for a bunch of old farts." He laughed weakly.
"They practically burned the whole place down. At least we won't have to go back there." Adeline shut her eyes as tightly as she could and rocked gently in her seat.
The halls of the nursing home compound smelled of stale water and smoke. The firemen had turned the electricity back on, and the place was once again well lit. Most of the broken glass and debris had been cleared from the hallways. Mr. Barry was gone. It was rumored that he had split town and headed west in search of a job managing a private gym. In the compound's cafeteria, the two remaining orderlies removed the dried blood from the vinyl tabletops with a light detergent and damp rags.
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