Callisto (47 page)

“By accident.”

“Forensics have confirmed he died from a blow to the head, but his skull is abnormally thin.”

“Told you. Hey, did this Marky guy see who put the truck in the driveway? That would've been happening around the same time as he's digging up Dean.”

“No, he drove up to the house, went around back to get the body and drove out the same way. The truck was delivered later, maybe just minutes later. There's something else. These calls you claimed to have received from so-called Agent Jim Ricker, do you stick by that story?”

“He called me, like I said.”

“We've re-examined our recordings and discovered several anomalies. You know what that means?”

“It's … a sea creature with lots of little wavy arms. But not a fish.”

“Traces of interference we didn't notice before, like someone had a new kind of scrambler. We'll need to talk to you about that as well. How are they treating you there?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Good. Well, I just wanted to let you know your story is now more or less accepted and you'll be booked for homicide, not terrorism. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“Put the officer back on.”

“Agent Kraus? Did Lorraine get her dope-trafficking charges dropped for going along with that phony breakout? I think it's good if she did. I don't bear her any grudge. And is it true about her doing certain things with Chief Webb when she's, uh, too young? She told me that's why she's busting me out, to get back at him about that, but maybe it was a lie to make everything seem more real. It's none of my business, I'd just like to know.”

“Those allegations are part of an ongoing investigation, so I can't discuss them. Put the officer back on.”

“I don't bear a grudge against Donnie D neither. He was just concerned about Dean, I guess.”

“Odell, put the officer on right now.”

“Okay, bye.” I held out the phone. “For you, Lieutenant.”

He took it off me and listened, then he says, “Right away.”

I heard the phone snap shut. Harding says, “Take him inside.”

Which they did, and when I'm in my cell and the black bag was took off they told me I can have a shower, which I did and it felt great. Then they give me back my clothes that I come in and my sneakers, even give me back the money I had. Then they brung in breakfast, eggs, bacon, raisin toast and waffles, plus coffee. It's like I've gone from being a piece of shit to a VIP all of a sudden, which I know I have got Agent Kraus to thank for this.

Midmorning along comes Chaplain Turner with my Bible. He looked real surprised to see me wearing regular clothing and not the orange jumpsuit. He says, “The Lieutenant told me you wouldn't be needing this, but he didn't say why. Has something changed here?”

“I'm going home.”

“Really, and why is that?”

“They swapped the charge from terrorism to homicide.”

“Oh.”

“But I expect that'll get changed again to manslaughter because it was accidental. I just need to explain to them about that.”

“I see. So you won't be needing this?” He held up the Bible. It looked new.

“Not now. They won't think I'm a Muslim now that I'm not a terrorist anymore.”

“Is that the only reason you wanted it, to look less like a Muslim?”

“Uhuh.”

He looked disappointed. “You told me you were a lapsed Christian.”

“What kind is that? I think I'm supposed to be a Pisscapalian. That's what my mom was when she's little, but my dad talked her out of it.”

“It's never too late,” he says, and put the Bible through the bars, which I took it out of politeness and took a peek inside to see if it's the kind with pictures. I recall seeing one of those with pictures of Jesus with long gold hair and eyes blue as the sky. He looked like a Viking in a bathrobe. But this one has not got the pictures.

“Thank you,” I told him. He's looking at my face all swole up like it is, and I know he wants to ask about that, but he doesn't. I said, “Did you talk to Preacher Bob about me?”

“Preacher Bob? No, I thought you were joking.”

“Well, it doesn't matter now, I'm going home. That means I
can still go to the big show he's got planned in Topeka for July Fourth.”

“I've heard about that. It should be quite spectacular. Well, take care, and study that book, it'll make a huge difference in your life.”

He's probably right about that. Dean's Koran made a big difference in my life and I didn't even read a single word from it, just picked it up a couple times, so these religion books are dynamite. Chaplain Turner shook my hand very friendly and I said, “Can you ask the Lieutenant or someone on the way out if I can get let out of this cell now that I'm not a terrorist? They didn't say yet how long till I'm outta here.”

“I'll ask,” he says, and away he goes.

Ten minutes later Harding comes to visit. He says, “You won't be permitted out of that cell until it's time to leave. There's a flight stateside this evening. Until then you have to remain where you are. This is a military facility, strictly off limits if you aren't one of us.”

“Just a couple weeks ago I was thinking about joining up.”

“Is that right. I'd forget that idea if I were you, Deefus, you're not suitable.”

“Uh, why not?”

He studied me awhile then says, “You're too peculiar. We get peculiar types once in a while and we iron out their wrinkles, but with you...I don't know, there's just something not right. Forget the military, get a job with some city council emptying trash cans, that's my recommendation to you.”

“Thank you, I'll think about that.”

“And stay away from Muslims. That's what got you into trouble.”

“I will, definitely.”

“Would you like the TV again? That'll help pass the time till your release.”

“Okay.”

He went away. He was a lot nicer to me now after Agent Kraus's phone call. That was like a phone call from those people that tell you you just won the lottery or whatever. It changed everything, and I intended saying a big Thank you to Kraus next time I get to see him. You might say I have won the lottery, getting out of here and not having people think I'm a terrorist now, just a criminal.

The TV got brung back by Fogler, who has got this red welt across his throat from the baton. He unlocked the door and shoved it at me. I took it and he says, “You ain't left yet, not till tonight.”

“I know.”

“So there's still time,” he says.

“To do what?”

“Be afraid,” he says.

He means afraid of him, it's there in his face. I didn't like to hear that kind of talk from someone obnoxious as Fogler so I told him, “Okay then,” and give him a slit-eyed mean look to follow up. He give something similar back to me and went away.

I switched on the TV but it's all soaps and stuff this time of day, so I switched it off again and thought maybe the time has come to dip into the Bible like everyone says you ought to for the good of your soul. I opened it up just anywhere and started to read. Only I didn't get far. This has got to be a book for geniuses, because I can't seem to follow more than a few
words at a time without getting lost and thinking, What does that mean? I tried for ten minutes to make sense of this one little section and had to give it up. That made me feel like I must be an idiot like some people have said now and then about me, which made me sad, but this is not my fault, just the way I am, which I did not choose to be this way.

I thought about emptying trash cans and felt sad again. Maybe I should go back to the grain silo when all this other stuff is fixed up and they let me go. Or maybe they won't, and my next job will be in prison sewing mailbags or making license plates, that's what I heard they do in there. That made me even sadder thinking about it. I could always get a job as a dishwasher, anyone with two arms can. There would be something I can do, but not in Callisto. I don't ever want to go back there. That has been a bad luck place for me. Most of all I didn't want to bump into Lorraine again after what I learned about her and Cole, and her and Chief Webb if that part is true, but mainly her and Cole. I have gone and closed my heart against Lorraine after that, not that she would give a damn what I'm feeling anyway. That woman was a fake friend for sure.

Lunch was chicken in a basket, very tasty and plenty of it. I felt better about things after that, and started wondering if I'll still be here for supper or maybe they'll feed me on the plane. I wanted to be back in America. I didn't like this place. They have hit me too much here for me ever to like it even if the food is good. After I'm done eating I had myself a good long nap to make up for yesterday when they're too busy torturing me. That's what that was, those things that happened. I always thought torture is some guy in a long black robe with a pointy
hat shoving irons into a fire till they're red hot and then poking them in your eyes, or getting pulled apart by horses or whatever. But that's just the old-fashioned way, I guess. Nowadays they don't want to go to all that trouble of heating up coals in a climate like this, that would be too sweaty and would leave marks. Punching the shit out of a guy with the gloves, that's the way to go. Lots of pain and swelling but nothing that'll show after a few days, so that was smart.

That was some nap I had because next thing here comes dinner – steak! Maybe this was done special for me to say Sorry About The Torture, or maybe the soldiers get this regular. I ate it down whichever, then watched some TV news but there's nothing about me or Dean's body getting discovered at last but plenty about the election, with both sides sniping at each other like always. Me, I never once voted, but if Preacher Bob says Senator Ketchum is the one to go with, I figure I owe it to Bob for his kindness etcetera to do that if he says to. Preacher Bob would know more about politics than me. Come to think of it, anyone would. Sometimes you just have to trust the brain of somebody smarter than you, which that is the case here, I think, so most likely I'll do that and be taking part in politics the first time ever, which everyone should do this that can vote. There are countries where you can't vote and are stuck with the same evil bozos forever, so our way is better.

Around eight-thirty two soldiers and Lieutenant Harding come to escort me out of there. Harding says to me, “Deefus, we've never before had someone stay with us so short a time. Just to make sure there's been no misunderstanding, I'd like your signature on this.” He hands me a piece of paper which it
says very simple that I did not suffer any ill treatment while in the custody of the United States of America and do so hereby declare same.

“You guys punched the shit out of me,” I said.

“That was a mistake based on an erroneous communication. We were told you're a terrorist. I think you'd agree that if you
were
a terrorist you deserved what you got and much more besides. As an American, don't you want your armed forces to protect you?”

“Uhuh.”

“That's what we were doing. It was a miscommunication. Sign there.”

He handed me a pen. I looked at it and I looked at the paper, then at Harding.

“But I'm not a terrorist, I'm an accidental murderer.”

“Then consider yourself lucky you didn't get what those others are getting, or for anywhere near as long. Count your blessings, Deefus. A foreign government acting on the mistaken belief that you're a terrorist would have done terrible things to extract a confession. Fortunately you came to us. Sign right there and you're on your way.”

I took the pen but still didn't sign. It didn't seem right somehow.

“There's a plane waiting, Deefus, a plane laid on especially for you. Do you know the cost of a run between here and Miami? Thousands of taxpayers' dollars are being spent to get you back where you belong. We've wasted time and effort on you that should have been spent on other individuals that
are
terrorists. Don't waste any more of our valuable time, Deefus – sign.”

So I did. I signed at the bottom of the paper very scrawly so it's hard to read. I signed it Odouell Derfuse so it isn't legal. Harding gave it a glance and he's satisfied.

“Blindfold,” he says.

One of the soldiers blindfolded me and I got led away outside and put in the back seat of a Humvee alongside of another soldier and we drove away from there, which made me happy even if I can't see a thing. We drove a longer time than when we come here, so they must have taken me another way than before, and then I can smell that airport smell of aviation gas and hear a chopper coming in to land. The Humvee stops.

They brung me out and marched me across some smooth asphalt and a soldier says, “There's a ramp coming up.” My foot touched the edge of something hard and sloping upwards, so this is the ramp. The other soldier says in my ear, “So long, Doofus,” and punched me so hard in the gut I folded over. I knew that voice, it's Fogler.

“What's going on down there?” another voice calls out.

“Prisoner stumbled, sir.”

“Get him up here.”

They marched me up this metal ramp, not steps like you'd expect to get into a plane, and I got sat onto this chair still with the blindfold on and they buckled some kind of hard leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles. “Safety measure,” says another voice to me. “Got to make sure you arrive at the other end safe and sound. Can't have you bouncing around in here. The blindfold comes off when we're airborne.”

“Okay.”

I could hear more voices around me, then there's the
sound of hydraulic pressure lines as the ramp comes up and the airport sounds outside were cut off as it closed, so I'm guessing I'm inside a big C-130 transporter. All the noises I can hear now are inside, and they sound hollow, like there's a lot of empty space around me. Then the engines start up, four of them, and they were loud! They built up to a kind of whistling roar and we started moving. I could hear voices talking but only just, it's so loud in there. We got to rolling a whole lot faster, then stopped and swung around, I could feel that, then the engines got cranked up even more and we started moving fast with all the vibration coming to me through the seat I'm buckled into. This was a whole different experience to my other plane ride in the little jet but kind of fun too same as that one. Then the plane lifted off and everything got smooth again. We climbed higher for maybe ten minutes then leveled out with the engines throttled back.