Work Text:
Savour the moment ("spring blossoms")
Toby was filled with the strange feeling waking this summer morning.
Normally waking each day in Em City he faced the oncoming daily grind
with a combination of moody apprehension and dread. However today he
had woken before lights on and the morning count feeling refreshed,
lifted and decided today was the day.
He had shared the bottom bunk with Chris the entire night again. It
was almost a memory to him now; how in the begining he had loved
falling asleep next to Chris each night but had found it impossible
to sleep the entire night through next to his lover. He would wakie
in the the early hours of the morning and climb begrudgingly into his
top bunk. The ever-present threat of the CO's on their nightly rounds
plus the added bonus of Chris being the biggest bed hog in history
usually was more than enough of an incentive to get some shuteye
alone (for a few hours at least). But lately he had stopped worrying
about the fucking hacks and their menacing, judging stares, that and
the fact that Chris had gotten used to sharing his bed with someone
and his nightly thrashing and blanket hogging had almost disappeared.
He untangled Chris' arm from around his waist carefully as not to
wake him. With the litheness and skill of a cat he slipped down and
under Chris' torso and stepped onto the unforgiving coldness of the
pod floor...the middle of summer and yet this place always seemed like
an icebox.
The pod looked like a small thermo nuclear device had been detonated
in Chris' foot locker...Chris' dirty smelly socks, wife beaters and
track pants had lain strewn carelessly around their pod for too long
now with no attempt on Chris' behalf to either pick them up or wash
them. Toby knew Chris hated laundry but this was just getting out of
hand. His mind wandered back to a time when he had first been forced
to share his pod with the "new guy" and how amused he had been by
Chris' morning ritual of "sniffing" his dirty clothes, desperately
seeking a pair of socks or a shirt he could get away with wearing
just one more time...now to Toby it seemed just unhygienic.
A wry smile crept across his face as he remembered the many numerous
hints he had dropped to Chris over the past couple of days,
mentioning how their living quarters had started to smell more like a
dog kennel rather than a place to live.
"It smells like an old gym in here Keller" Toby had huffed.
"Perhaps we could do a bit of a tidy up today, what do you think?"
Chris had seemed aloof and simply grunted something before returning
his attention back to his bike mag.
"God you're a cheeky bugger" he thought to himself. "It's like having
a teenager living with me!" He remembered back to his days of living
on campus, sure there had been mess but this was just plain wrong!
With his good mood firmly in tow he quietly dressed and began to
gather Chris' items of clothing and place them in a hamper ready for
lights on. He would head for the laundry before breakfast.
A whoosh of air as the door seals released and a CO yelling heralded
the arrival of another day in Em City. Toby looked over to see Chris
wriggle under his blanket, curse, sniff, curse again and proceed to
bury his head under the pillow.
"Time for school sleepy head" Toby joked at Chris' reaction to the
new day.
"Aw gee Mom...five more minutes Please" was Chris' mocking response.
Toby threw him a pair of clean boxers and reminded him that if he
didn't get up he was going to miss breakfast. That was all of the
inspiration Chris needed to launch him into action.
Thinking with his rumbly tummy Chris quickly threw on the boxers. He
looked around the pod for some clothes to wear and noticed they were
all gathered neatly together in a small hamper with washing powder.
Realising what Toby was going to be doing for most of the day and let
out a small "woo hoo" before he found a pair of Toby's track pants
and one of Toby's "larger" shirts. He struggled into them, they
didn't fit that well but they were better than the stinking garments
he owned right at this moment in time.
"Toby doing the laundry" he thought to himself, today was off to a
good start. He moved forward and gave Toby's arse a small squeeze.
"Remember, not too much starch on the business shirts honey," he
whispered into Toby's ear. "You know it makes my neck all itchy!"
Followed by another quick pat on the butt. As he slid passed Toby and
blew him a morning kiss before putting on his best "Keller" face and
strode off to breakfast.
Good moods were rare in Oz...even rarer in Em City. Toby got quiet a
few strange looks as he made his way across the quad to the laundry
room. Puzzled onlookers stared into his almost glowing face wondering
where the hell that shit eating grin had come from, some worried
crazy Beecher could be back and began to make plans for their self
preservation. Nothing could wipe the smile from his face; Toby simply
didn't give two shits what his fellow inmates thought about his mood...
he was happy and they were jealous.
"Hey prag" Robson called from across the quad. "That some crazy after
glow you sporting today. Guess Keller gave you a real good one last
night didn't he you pair of fags!"
"You know what you crazy Arian fuck, the best after glow I ever had
was the morning after I gave you your love bite, half dick!" was
Toby's snappy reply as he scooted into the laundry room and left a
shattered Robson to be restrained by a couple of hacks.
Two loads of laundry later and Toby was almost done, folding the
freshly dried clothes and sorting them into plies. He opened the
dryer to retrieve the last load of Chris shirts and pants. He held a
shirt to his face and inhaled. Gone was the sweaty gym smell and in
it's place replaced by the freshness of "spring blossoms".
Murphy had been sitting in the observation tower for nearly the
entire day.
Apart from yelling at a few guys to "break it up" and the
occasional "don't make me come down there" he had had a pretty quiet
day, almost boring in fact. The only thing that had really kept him
awake was the show being put on by that crazy fuck Beecher in the
laundry. All freaking morning he had been in there lost in his own
little world. Filling up the washers, waiting for the cycle to end
and then loading into the dryers. Murphy had watched as Toby had
taken each load of dry clothes and folded them like he was doing some
sort of crazy origami or something!
"Gez that guy is nuts" he thought to himself. But at the end of the
day he guessed that he appreciated the performance, anything really
to break the monotony of his shift.
Perhaps the strangest part was the way that Beecher was "smelling"
the dried clothes as they came out of the dryer. "Man that is just
fucked up". Murphy thought to himself. "Beecher is in domestic
bliss". He allowed himself a small muffled chuckle at Beecher happily
smelling each item of clothing before folding it and placing it
neatly on the piles before him.
Finally, the last load done, Toby began to remove the clothing from
the dryer and started to fold them.
And then, as quickly and mysteriously as the good mood Toby was in
had arrived it was taken away by whatever force had given it to him.
There was no warning.
There was no rhyme or reason.
It was as if the gods above had been caught out napping; not paying
attention to their daily task of making Toby's life an angst ridden
mess of confusing and sometimes dangerous emotions and thoughts...so
they quickly made up for lost time and decided to punish him for
*their* lax in concentration, punish *him* for his theft, *his*
stolen moment of happiness.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Out of the corner of his eye Toby saw movement...someone had entered
the laundry.
Sister Pete stood before Toby, her face solemn and pale. She was
finding it difficult to make eye contact: that was scaring Toby more
than anything else. He knew Sister Pete, he knew not much flustered
or scared her, but today something was wrong, something was not right.
"Sister?" Toby inquired.
Her voice breaking and with her eyes still on the floor "Tobias,
I..."
"Sister what's going on?" A small trickle of dread thread into his
voice now.
"What. Is. Going. On?" the growing distress evident in his words. His
hands, still holding a pair of Chris's track pants, began to shake
slightly.
Quietly, almost a whisper "Tobias, I have something to tell you.
Something you need to hear...Tobias there has been an incident...it
involves Chris".
Toby dropped the pants. His arms went limp and fell to his sides.
Sister Pete slowly raised her head and revealed her face to Toby, her
eyes black, the tears welling in unshed waves held back by years of a
nuns restraint and training.
"What Sister?" Tobies voice had joined the nuns in an almost whisper
now.
"Tell me please!"
But he already new what she was there to tell him before she even
opened her mouth to reply.
"Tobias, Chris is...Chris is dead."
" He was stabbed in the infirmary...they did all they could...it was just...
there was too much...Tobias...Toby?"
Toby stood silent, his eyes flickered, his hand began to clench then
unclench in at a slow measured pace. From the outside looking in Toby
appeared quite calm, but Sister Pete noticed the change almost as
soon as it happend, she saw Toby leave: his body was there but his
essence was suddenly missing. Apart from a few dryers quietly
whirring in the back ground there was silence.
"Tobias?"
Silence.
"Toby?"
Silence.
"Please Tobias talk to me".
He stood...
He looked...
And then silence no more...silence never again.
Pete Marie had never heard and knew in her heart of hearts that she
would ever hear again the sound that came from Tobias' mouth. It was
the most guttural, primal scream of grief, pure and unadulterated,
neither tainted or watered down with anything.
It was complete.
It was perfect.
It was a sound she was not ready for and it's potency and anguish
spilled into her as easily as water into a glass. The intense pain
from Tobies screaming mouth flowed into his friend without regard or
concern. It was a sound never "designed" or rendered. It was created
within Toby to carry out of his body pain that would otherwise have
stopped his heart and killed him, to contain it would have brought
about yet another death, his own, and there had been too much death
and pain already.
Hacks came franticly running from every direction. The inmates in the
quad looked around at each other wondering just what the hell was
going on. Confusion and bewilderment emanated from all parts of the
block. From his observation point Murphy could see his lazy morning
disappear and reluctantly pressed the alarm button summoning a
lockdown. Better to get everyone under control and fast than risk
this situation blowing up in his face. Inmates were quickly ushered
from the quad into their pods...
...And all of this time the tortured almost inhuman screams from the
laundry room continued unabated, never once waning in intensity, not
for a single second.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Three days later Tobias Beecher was released from the infirmary where
he had been kept under constant medication and supervision.
He was released at the request of Sister Peter Marie just in time to
attend the funeral of murdered Oswald maximum penitentiary inmate
Christopher Keller.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Even for a summer day the sky seemed darker than usual, the suns
warmth held at bay by low darkening clouds. Dressed in bright orange
cover alls and wearing handcuffs, Toby was one of only three other
mourners at the funeral. Beside him stood Sister Peter Marie, the
priest performing the rites and Bonny, the twice-favoured wife of the
now departed Chris Keller.
But Toby was not really there.
Since the news of the death Toby had shut himself down, he was lost
somewhere within his own mind.
It was as if he had gathered up all of the essence that contributed
to making him who he was, all of his warmth, his love for Chris and
his children, his *life* and placed them in that wooden box along
side his dead lover. Under six feet of cold earth he would bury all
of his dreams with him where they would surly rot and decay with the
body they were escorting across the river of stix: his love and
dreams a token as real as any flower or photograph his fellow
mourners had placed in that casket.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The last time Sister Peter Marie ever spoke to Tobias was a Saturday.
Broken, stricken with grief and lost within his own mind Toby had
spoken no more than a dozen words since he buried Chris next to his
dead wife and his son Gary. Worried for is state of mind Peter Marie
had Toby called to her office in an attempt to reason with him, to
try to get him to talk again...or at least to eat something.
When she saw Toby shuffle into her office she was taken by surprise.
Toby had not shaved since the morning of the incident nor washed. His
dishevelled state made it difficult for her to recognise the man who
only weeks ago had happily worked for her in her office where they
would share discussions on all thing philosophical and current world
events: This was not the man she remembered, this was a mere husk.
Peter Marie dismissed the CO and began to talk to Toby in a low
reassuring voice.
"Tobias, I am happy you agreed to meet with me. I have to say I am
very worried about you, why do you want to make an old woman like me
worry so much?"
Nothing from Toby. He sat silent in his chair. His eyes focusing on
the desk and the few items Peter Marie had housed there. A journal,
pens, a small plastic container containing fruit.
"Now Tobias, I need for you to try and tell me what you are thinking
right now. I need for you to tell me if there is anything I can do to
try and help you through what you are going through. Please I can't
do anything without your help. You have to help me help you OK!"
Toby moved his head slightly. The corner of his mouth moved as if to
speak but the words were replaced with a large rushed intake of air.
He lifted his head now completely to face the nun, his only friend
left in this prison he called home. His eyes blinked, blinked again,
a single tear from his left eye began a slow journey towards his
chin, prompting a similar response from the woman before him.
Through eyes swollen red from days of crying and with a voice as
broken as his spirit and will to live, Toby reached out through the
blackness and turmoil within him, summoned every ounce of strength he
had left within him and willed his mouth to form the words he needed
to confess. And when those words came they released with them days of
grief, days of anguish and days of pain. They opened a floodgate so
wide Toby was afraid he would never be able to close it, that he
would be drained of all that he had left, that it would be the end of
him, the darkness in his soul would consume those around him.
"I...I WASHED HIM AWAY!" more than words almost a scream.
"Tobias you did what? I don't understand?
"I washed him away. I took all that he was and washed him away. I
replaced him with nothing...its all my fault I should have been there...I
SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE! He looked like the *stronger* one but he
wasn't it was *me*, I am the stronger, it was my job to protect him."
Purged depleted of energy Toby slid back into his chair and began to
cry once more. His tears came without restraint. His hands went
forward in an attempt to hide his loss and shame but they didn't hide
the truth from anyone in that room. Chris had died as a result of his
washing clothes rather than going to breakfast.
"I just had to push the point didn't I...just couldn't let Chris be
Chris. He was happy with his smelly clothes, happy just the way he
was. I just had to push him...and now I have pushed him out of my
life forever."
Peter Marie was stunned into silence. She took a moment to compose
herself and then began her rebuttal.
"Tobias you can not believe that what you have just said is the
truth, or anything even remotely close to it. You had nothing to do
with Chris's attack and you certainly have not washed any one nor
pushed anyone away. Tobias, I have something I need to tell you."
She looked at the door to make sure the guard was nowhere within
earshot.
"Tobias, the church, well, the church forbids me to accept the sexual
union between two men. But having said that, as a woman, as a person
and as YOUR friend I can say without question that the love you and
Chris shared, however estranged and with all of its highs and lows,
that love you shared was more real to me than any union I have ever
witnessed between any two people on this earth. DO you hear me
Tobias. You did not wash Chris away... you will NEVER wash him away. He
is in you even now, forever."
Toby sat silent again, his outburst only moments earlier was all that
he could muster. He had confessed his "sin", had purged his soul and
had now all he wanted was sleep...sleep in the warm strong arms of a
dead man!
~~~~~~~~~~~
Toby was returned to his pod where he discovered that the hacks had
already removed most of Chris' few meagre belongings and removed his
bedding. All that was left was the folded mattress on the bottom bunk
and a basket of folded laundry at the base of his now empty
footlocker.
He was not sure how long he stood there, stood in the entrance
of "their" pod and stared at the emptiness before him, but before he
knew it the lights were out and Toby was left alone standing in the
darkness with only cold tears on his face for company.
The shattered shell that used to be called Tobias Beecher wandered
over to Chris bed and unfolded the mattress. He slumped onto the
bottom bunk and slowly stroked the surface with his hand: it gave him
no comfort; rather the contact with the stained fabric only drew more
life from him. He knew he had reached a place within himself that
there would be no recovery from...a self-created hell in his mind, he
surrendered to it completely.
Not fully aware of his actions he walked to the pods sink and began
to dismantle a small disposable razor.
With the razor sharp blade in hand he walked back to the bottom bunk
and lay down. He allowed his memory to wander, desperate for a happy
moment but found there only images of pain and suffering, broken
bones and broken promises, lies, deception and anguish...
...And then with two deliberate swift slashing movements he set in
motion the wheels to end the pain...
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tobias Beecher lay on the bottom bunk of their pod staring into the
darkness. As his lifeblood left the confines of his body to be soaked
up by the flimsy mattress below him he finally began to forget the
haunting images within his head. Rather he finally managed to secure
within himself an image and moment of happiness that was buried
itself deep within him and he grasped onto it: he used the memory and
the image to comfort his dying body as a soothing hand may caress the
head of one who has only moments of life left in this world; The
blissful image of a strong and vibrant Christopher Keller turning to
face his Toby and blow him a kiss before striding off to
breakfast...it was the last image Toby ever had, so strong in his
mind not even the blackness of the tiny pod could erase it.
In total silence Toby rushed head long into oblivion to reunite with
the only person in the world who had ever truly loved him...the smell
of "spring blossoms" lingering in his
nostrils.
The end.