“Winning is like a drug, once you do it, you want it more and more. Now if you could be the supplier of that drug, think of how far ahead of the game you’d be.”
April 2nd, 2011
He woke much as he had for the past three days now, groggy and unsure of where he was, but that was okay, he knew what to do. First he had to get up, get himself cleaned up, wash everywhere, wash his hair, and then towel off. Then he had to brush his teeth, make himself smell nice with some deodorant, the roll-on kind since that was what he’d been given. He’d thought only women wore roll-on deodorant. Showed what he knew.
Then he had to brush his hair, brush his teeth, make sure he didn’t get the two mixed up and brush toothpaste into his hair and try to style his teeth. That wouldn’t work, it would probably look pretty funky if it did.
After that, his daily regimen was to get dressed, something comfortable so that he wouldn’t chafe or sweat too much. All his nice clothes were gone, the dark guys, and the dark lady’s, had taken them. He was given comfortable scrubs to wear, in fact it was all he had now aside from a few extra pairs of clothes like loose jeans, sweatpants and shirts, and a few other garments that didn’t look like hospital clothes. They were comfortable at least.
This done, his rubber sandals donned, Abel then had to go on and head downstairs, he had to get the pills for the residents, to make sure that they didn’t gain any more lucidity than they already had. Stepping from the elevator as the doors opened he padded slowly into the first floor of the house, already hearing the telltale scratching behind the walls as he passed them, knowing too well that the residents were up and about already. If they knew where the passages let out, they were obviously not interested, since in the time it took him to gather the pills they would need he didn’t hear anything more than the footsteps and scratching behind the walls.
He’d been told they didn’t seem interested in coming out of their hidey holes, which was just fine. One less thing he had to deal with.
With the pill boxes and the plastic lunch counter tray he’d found laden with the colorful assortment of prescription medications he’d been instructed to hand out every few hours, Abel turned back to walk towards the elevator again, still moving at a sedate pace as he kept his gaze straight ahead. There was no rush, except to get the pills to the residents. They knew to wait, they knew to be there when he got to their rooms, if only to avoid being caught and thereby get in trouble. While Abel still didn’t know what getting in trouble might mean, he couldn’t find the willpower to care, thinking that if it happened, it happened.
He couldn’t help thinking though as the elevator doors closed and the car began to rise, one single thought that kept repeating again and again, as it had done for the past few days.
He should have gotten out sooner.