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another! But see, I could hear what he meant, I could hear the
true voice behind his smile! It spoke to me, hissed at me! He'd
say one thing and smile at me, and through his smile I heard, I
heard! I heard what he really meant! I heard those phony lips hiss
his true thoughts! Heard his disdain for me! I demanded the truth
from him! Tell me, I said! Stop your lying, I commanded! His phony
smile grew, I tell you! And with it grew the volume of truth, the
volume of contempt he held for me! So I cut it permanent on his
face! Smile phony no more! Ha!”
On and on he went. He told me of the
voices from the curators smiling wife and her sister - of the voices
from the world…
How could they not judge him insane!
“Let me tell someone…” I'd asked, “…anyone - the
press, about the voices.”
“Tell no one,” he'd say.
“Let them pay - their smiling faces forever displayed!”
Insane, I tell you! And now, in three
minutes, he'll fry.
Six hours ago, I sat with him during
his final meal. Myself, his only friend - the only person to know
of the voices - sat in front of a bucket of fried chicken, a tub
of mashed potatoes, and a two-liter bottle of soda; neither of us
ate a bite.
“Please,” I begged him,
“let me tell them about the voices! Before it's too late!”
|
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Sternly, he
smiled “Tell no one!”
It was a good show, a good act, but
his smile was as phony as that of his victims - I know it! And now
he'll fry…
And I, his only friend in the world,
I am given the privilege of witnessing his execution - myself and
the victim's family, of course.
And here I am, alone in front of the
viewing window waiting for them to file in. Through the glass, I can
see my friend - strapped to the chair - his head shaved underneath
a crown of wire, and his arms and legs also restrained. He seems to
be staring at me, confused perhaps. Maybe the reality of his situation
is finally speaking louder than the taunting voices within?
What is taking so long? Why are the
other witnesses not yet here! And why, pray tell, is my friend staring
at me with that phony-baloney smile!
Well, it's about damned time! The other
witnesses are filing in. Strange, they look somber, almost sad. Absent
of smiles - they sit behind my friend. Why are they not in the same
room as I? Behind my friend? Why… what are they doing in there…
WAIT! MY GOD! THAT'S NOT MY PHONY-BALONEY,
SMILING FRIEND STRAPPED TO THE CHAIR! THAT'S MY REFLECTION IN THE
WINDOW! |
