Day Thirteen: Morning
My bowl of oatmeal lies on the sand before me scraped clean. I worked pretty late into the night and collapsed from exhaustion. I woke up hungrier than I’d been in time out of mind. The camp is slowly taking shape with half of its eight pits dug and ready to receive the stakes that will fill them in time. Today I will finish digging the rest of them, but for the moment I am happy to sit and contemplate my bowl and let my mind drift with my pen in hand.
It strikes me that there is only one person I can think of in my list of enemies that would have the necessary influence and odd, mean streak to put me out here and toy with me. Why I didn’t think of him before can only be chalked up to how disassociated I have become because of this whole ordeal and in all fairness, because I didn’t really consider him to be an enemy. If this is anything other than a fever dream and if I am really on this island and not rotting in a hospital somewhere covered in my own drool and shit, then my captor can only be Janos.
Before my visitor arrived I was telling you about my impending trip to Europe and all of the riches I hoped to gain there. My first three months there was everything I had hoped it would be. There were parties, women, and the drugs, oh my god the drugs. Vegas was in many ways a kiddie pool compared to where I found myself. Unfortunately my excesses caused my nest egg to dry up faster than I had anticipated and the sheep I was there to fleece were savvier than I had been led to believe.
So I dried up, addiction to any substance has never been an issue so that was fairly easy. Giving up the girls was harder, but like an athlete re-entering training I felt that it was necessary. My only vice during that time was skiing. I stayed at it for twelve hours a day, cross country mostly. All the while my brain was buzzing with plans. My dealers and other connections along with my growing knowledge of the surrounding country helped me decide to rebuild using my talent for sales. I started with selling heroin and rapidly moved to cutting edge designer chemistry.
During a trip to East Germany I ran afoul of some competition and they put me in a dark hole for what seemed like weeks, but was probably only a few days. After I stewed they brought me out and took me to their boss, Janos. He’s an older man, I’m guessing middle fifties, but I honestly never knew. He always looked the same no matter the situation. He wore the same dark suits and ties with complex patterns drawn in what looked like arterial blood on a dark background and always used a cane.
He and his men convinced me to join their ranks. It wasn’t hard. I knew a good thing when I saw it and breathing was a very good thing. He knew a good salesman when he saw it, or so he said. Success followed that partnership. It was a large time and for six months nothing could touch me. I learned a great deal about the power of money. I helped buy and sell politicians. I sold drugs, women, art. The only thing I never did was commit murder. Make no mistake, people lived and died at my word. Being one of Janos’ lieutenants carried wait in the European underworld. Unfortunately it also meant that when the law caught up with Janos’ the lieutenants took the biggest fall and fall I did.
It was the longest stretch I did in jail and it was also the hardest. I sang until I felt like my lungs would burst. I didn’t care if it meant that I would die. I preferred the thought of a knife or a bullet to those gray walls. Eventually the deal I cut got me out and the boom never lowered. At first I was confused and after a while I got scared and tired of waiting. After doing some digging it turned out that Janos had another fall guy set up. That suited me fine. I assumed that he didn’t have any particular hard feelings since he had gotten off and proceeded to live off money I had stashed all over.
After that I vowed to work alone or stay the top dog in any organization I was part of and to stay well clear of drugs. They had caused more trouble than they were worth. Besides, with my savings and the judicious use of resources I had learned in prison I could afford to pick my jobs.
I’m now beginning to believe that Janos has a longer memory than I credited him for, or perhaps he’d been unable to exact the sort of vengeance he liked to carry out until recently. I think I shall write more on that theory later today. My shovel calls and she’s a harsh mistress.
It strikes me that there is only one person I can think of in my list of enemies that would have the necessary influence and odd, mean streak to put me out here and toy with me. Why I didn’t think of him before can only be chalked up to how disassociated I have become because of this whole ordeal and in all fairness, because I didn’t really consider him to be an enemy. If this is anything other than a fever dream and if I am really on this island and not rotting in a hospital somewhere covered in my own drool and shit, then my captor can only be Janos.
Before my visitor arrived I was telling you about my impending trip to Europe and all of the riches I hoped to gain there. My first three months there was everything I had hoped it would be. There were parties, women, and the drugs, oh my god the drugs. Vegas was in many ways a kiddie pool compared to where I found myself. Unfortunately my excesses caused my nest egg to dry up faster than I had anticipated and the sheep I was there to fleece were savvier than I had been led to believe.
So I dried up, addiction to any substance has never been an issue so that was fairly easy. Giving up the girls was harder, but like an athlete re-entering training I felt that it was necessary. My only vice during that time was skiing. I stayed at it for twelve hours a day, cross country mostly. All the while my brain was buzzing with plans. My dealers and other connections along with my growing knowledge of the surrounding country helped me decide to rebuild using my talent for sales. I started with selling heroin and rapidly moved to cutting edge designer chemistry.
During a trip to East Germany I ran afoul of some competition and they put me in a dark hole for what seemed like weeks, but was probably only a few days. After I stewed they brought me out and took me to their boss, Janos. He’s an older man, I’m guessing middle fifties, but I honestly never knew. He always looked the same no matter the situation. He wore the same dark suits and ties with complex patterns drawn in what looked like arterial blood on a dark background and always used a cane.
He and his men convinced me to join their ranks. It wasn’t hard. I knew a good thing when I saw it and breathing was a very good thing. He knew a good salesman when he saw it, or so he said. Success followed that partnership. It was a large time and for six months nothing could touch me. I learned a great deal about the power of money. I helped buy and sell politicians. I sold drugs, women, art. The only thing I never did was commit murder. Make no mistake, people lived and died at my word. Being one of Janos’ lieutenants carried wait in the European underworld. Unfortunately it also meant that when the law caught up with Janos’ the lieutenants took the biggest fall and fall I did.
It was the longest stretch I did in jail and it was also the hardest. I sang until I felt like my lungs would burst. I didn’t care if it meant that I would die. I preferred the thought of a knife or a bullet to those gray walls. Eventually the deal I cut got me out and the boom never lowered. At first I was confused and after a while I got scared and tired of waiting. After doing some digging it turned out that Janos had another fall guy set up. That suited me fine. I assumed that he didn’t have any particular hard feelings since he had gotten off and proceeded to live off money I had stashed all over.
After that I vowed to work alone or stay the top dog in any organization I was part of and to stay well clear of drugs. They had caused more trouble than they were worth. Besides, with my savings and the judicious use of resources I had learned in prison I could afford to pick my jobs.
I’m now beginning to believe that Janos has a longer memory than I credited him for, or perhaps he’d been unable to exact the sort of vengeance he liked to carry out until recently. I think I shall write more on that theory later today. My shovel calls and she’s a harsh mistress.
© 2004 by Scott Roche
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home