Jefferson's Room: A Narrative Fiction
“I understand, Jefferson. Being locked up in here. Ridiculed. Watched. Judged.” I sat facing the wall. My feet sat uncomfortably atop the concrete floor. My eyes wanted to close, but my mind wouldn't let them. Subconsciously, I believed that falling asleep made this place appear comfortable, and I was not going to provide it that luxury.
It was dark. It was always dark, and dreary, and lifeless. One bit of sunlight journeyed into the room from the window, but it never made it very far. Jefferson sat on the bed, staring at the one drop of light. He rarely blinked and made little motion, but his breathing was prominent. Every breath arched his back and convexed his spine. He grew taller with every inhale, and shorter with every exhale. His …show more content…
eyes were wide, not necessarily with any emotion, but wide with something.
“I don't know what you’re talking about,” he huffed so quickly that the words melded together.
“I'm talking about you, Jefferson.” I retorted, sounding more angry than I would have liked. After not speaking so long, the harsh tone left a mark in my throat.
“I’m not you. I am a hog”
I sighed. “You are not a hog, Jefferson. You are a man.” I had said that phrase so many times that day that it didn't even enter my mind before I said it.
“Men ain’t stuck.”
That was logic that even I could not argue. Having only been “stuck” for 6 hours, I knew I couldn't speak on it, but staying silent wasn't an option either.
“You’re right, Jefferson. Men aren’t stuck, or they shouldn't be…” I trailed off for a moment before regathering my thoughts. “You might be stuck now, but I hope you won't be soon.”
I hated saying it, but someone had to.
I let the thought sit in the room for a moment. The dead air was cold. I could almost see the sentence fizzle out of existence with every moment that passed. I hadn’t been to church in years, but I prayed to God that I would reach his mind.
Another moment passed. “Jefferson, why don’t you turn on the radio?”
He slowly reached over to the shiny brand new radio and turned the dial. Country twang now filled the room, and finally, it seemed a little less dead.
“A song about fighting,” I observed. “How appropriate”. Jefferson finally looked up and met my gaze. “Do you want to know what happened?”
He responded with a small nod, and I began to tell my tale:
“I went to the Rainbow Club down in Bayonne right after I left my last visit with you.
I was so amazed at our conversation to I just needed to tell my girlfriend, Vivian. You ever been to the Rainbow Club?” I interjected.
He nodded.
“Okay, good. Once I walked in and saw she wasn’t there, I decided to sit down at the bar and order a few drinks while I wait. A couple bricklayers were sitting next to me, talking really loud and being rambunctious. I keep catching words of what they’re hearing and I’m trying to figure about whom they’re speaking. After a few more moments listening, I realize who they’re talking about.” I pause for a moment. “It was you, Jefferson.”
“What did they say?” He spoke in a monotone voice, making it sound more like a command than a question.
“They were talking about how you don’t deserve to live, and that you’re a bad man, and eventually I could not hold my anger in. I had just come back from talking to you, and seeing how much of a man you are, and they were saying that you were nothing. I couldn’t let them say that about you, so I hit them. And now I’m here.” I smiled. The corners of Jefferson’s mouth began to lift upwards as well. They never did make it to a smile, but it was pretty damn
close.
It didn’t last long though. He quickly returned to his prior state, “You don’t have to stand up for a hog.”
“You’re right. I don’t have to stand up for hogs, and I didn’t. I stood up for a man.”
He layed back down of the bed, ignoring my statement.
“Jefferson,” I scolded him. If I was to teach him, he would have to be my student. “Are you going to continue to pity yourself, or are you going to show your aunt that you are a man? Will you do that for her?”
He sat back up on the bed and looked at me, “Yessir.”
It was dark. It was always dark, and dreary, and lifeless. One bit of sunlight journeyed into the room from the window, but it never made it very far. Jefferson sat on the bed, staring at the one drop of light. He rarely blinked and made little motion, but his breathing was prominent. Every breath arched his back and convexed his spine. He grew taller with every inhale, and shorter with every exhale. His …show more content…
eyes were wide, not necessarily with any emotion, but wide with something.
“I don't know what you’re talking about,” he huffed so quickly that the words melded together.
“I'm talking about you, Jefferson.” I retorted, sounding more angry than I would have liked. After not speaking so long, the harsh tone left a mark in my throat.
“I’m not you. I am a hog”
I sighed. “You are not a hog, Jefferson. You are a man.” I had said that phrase so many times that day that it didn't even enter my mind before I said it.
“Men ain’t stuck.”
That was logic that even I could not argue. Having only been “stuck” for 6 hours, I knew I couldn't speak on it, but staying silent wasn't an option either.
“You’re right, Jefferson. Men aren’t stuck, or they shouldn't be…” I trailed off for a moment before regathering my thoughts. “You might be stuck now, but I hope you won't be soon.”
I hated saying it, but someone had to.
I let the thought sit in the room for a moment. The dead air was cold. I could almost see the sentence fizzle out of existence with every moment that passed. I hadn’t been to church in years, but I prayed to God that I would reach his mind.
Another moment passed. “Jefferson, why don’t you turn on the radio?”
He slowly reached over to the shiny brand new radio and turned the dial. Country twang now filled the room, and finally, it seemed a little less dead.
“A song about fighting,” I observed. “How appropriate”. Jefferson finally looked up and met my gaze. “Do you want to know what happened?”
He responded with a small nod, and I began to tell my tale:
“I went to the Rainbow Club down in Bayonne right after I left my last visit with you.
I was so amazed at our conversation to I just needed to tell my girlfriend, Vivian. You ever been to the Rainbow Club?” I interjected.
He nodded.
“Okay, good. Once I walked in and saw she wasn’t there, I decided to sit down at the bar and order a few drinks while I wait. A couple bricklayers were sitting next to me, talking really loud and being rambunctious. I keep catching words of what they’re hearing and I’m trying to figure about whom they’re speaking. After a few more moments listening, I realize who they’re talking about.” I pause for a moment. “It was you, Jefferson.”
“What did they say?” He spoke in a monotone voice, making it sound more like a command than a question.
“They were talking about how you don’t deserve to live, and that you’re a bad man, and eventually I could not hold my anger in. I had just come back from talking to you, and seeing how much of a man you are, and they were saying that you were nothing. I couldn’t let them say that about you, so I hit them. And now I’m here.” I smiled. The corners of Jefferson’s mouth began to lift upwards as well. They never did make it to a smile, but it was pretty damn
close.
It didn’t last long though. He quickly returned to his prior state, “You don’t have to stand up for a hog.”
“You’re right. I don’t have to stand up for hogs, and I didn’t. I stood up for a man.”
He layed back down of the bed, ignoring my statement.
“Jefferson,” I scolded him. If I was to teach him, he would have to be my student. “Are you going to continue to pity yourself, or are you going to show your aunt that you are a man? Will you do that for her?”
He sat back up on the bed and looked at me, “Yessir.”