The Last Photograph
by Wrestlr
7.
“Petey?”
Who was whispering my name?
“Hey, Petey? Wake up. It’s me.”
I opened my eyes. My head ached, like something tight was wrapped around it, with a dull throb of pain in the back. My eyelids were the only part of me not stiff and cramped. The lights were out. I couldn’t see a thing. But I was used to darkness.
“Drink this.”
A straw crawled across my lip. I put my mouth around it and sucked. Water. I hadn’t realized how dry-mouthed I was.
“Don’t drink too fast. That’s enough for now.” The straw withdrew.
“You awake now?”
I recognized the voice. “Paul? Paul!”
“Shhh!—Keep it down. Yeah, it’s me, Petey. I’m not supposed to be in here.”
“How are you? Are you okay?” I gripped the wire mesh with my fingers. Paul groped and found my fingers—that was about the most we could do through the mesh. I recognized the feel, the smell—I was in my cage. The lights were off. Why wasn’t I surprised? I was too happy to care about that.
“Yeah. This place takes some getting used to, but it’s cool. What about you, bro? My first couple of weeks were kinda rocky. You holding up okay?”
“Yeah. Chair ... My head feels funny. They drugged me with something ... put me in a chair ... I .... My head hurts ...”
“Don’t sweat it, bro. You’ll be fine.”
“Get me out of this thing!”
“Can’t, bro. They locked you in. I don’t have the key. I’m not even supposed to be in here. But I heard rumors you were here. I wanted to see you.”
He pushed the straw back to me, and I drank greedily. He told me they’d be back for me soon. He had to be gone by then.
He didn’t know where this place was, except that it was in the middle of the jungle somewhere. He didn’t know why he and his friends had been brought here, except they weren’t the first and apparently those “in charge” thought no one would come snooping around. He couldn’t tell me anything about those “in charge.”
Our conversation lasted five minutes, tops. Paul got more and more nervous. I could tell from his voice. Finally, “Listen, bro, no matter what, just remember I’m okay. This place, it’s okay once you go along with the program. Don’t fight it, okay? And don’t worry about me. I’ll try to see you again soon.” And then he was gone.
I stayed awake in the darkness, concentrating on everything about Paul—the sound of his voice, every word he said. I didn’t want to forget anything.