The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age
    Richard Day's picture

    NORTHCO-XI: What's It All About Algie?

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    The room was white; white as a new blanket of South Dakota snow; before the car tracks, before the animal tracks and before the other inevitable pollution by nature or man.  Virgin is the appropriate word here.

    And it was padded; the cell that is. But some shadows remain

    Sitting alone, without so much as a pencil or a shoe lace, Algie contemplated his fate. What was he doing here?


    I have accomplished all that was ever asked of me.

    I mean I turned in my homework on time.

    I studied while others were out having fun.

    I finished my undergrad work before my eighteenth birthday.

    I had a Dr. before my name by my 21st.

    I never stole money. I never killed my brother. I never bribed or extorted anyone. I never intended anyone any harm. I never lied about anything 'material'.

    I always paid my taxes.

    I was kind to others, especially mumsy.

    No music available, no stereo, no IPOD. Yet the words from the latest bard keep reverberating in my brain.

    Darkness at the break of noon
    Shadows even the silver spoon
    The handmade blade, the child's balloon
    Eclipses both the sun and moon
    To understand you know too soon
    There is no sense in trying.

    Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
    Suicide remarks are torn
    From the fools gold mouthpiece
    The hollow horn plays wasted words
    Proved to warn
    That he not busy being born
    Is busy dying.

    Why in God's name was I meant to go through all this? There is no one here and I am stripped of all human dignity. And I am alone. But why? I never eschewed the norm really. I mean I went to work for the man. I took the corporate clothes. I responded affirmatively.

     WHAT DID YOU WISH ME TO DO? WHAT DO YOU WISH ME TO DO?

     My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?

     I certainly never wished to trod upon new ground. I took the road more traveled; not the other way around. And yet here I find myself. I never wished to risk.

     I was always doing THE BEST I COULD. And it was not good enough in the end.

     People, some people, just hated me the entire trip; the entire journey through this veil of tears.

     What did I ever do to THEM?

    There was all this blood. All this carnage. The most violent thing I ever did was to draw equations on a white board and get paid for it. It was not my job to apply the equations in any particular manner.

    There was a knock while Algie was musing and the door opened.  In stepped Dr. Andrews.

    How are we doing Dr. Flowers?

    Algie, I am just Algie.

    All right Algie. Why don't you just call me Ben? Algie how are you feeling today?

    I am inside a white box, all alone, and I need a cigarette.

    Ben reached into his white coat and pulled out a pack of Marlboroughs, handed the patient a cig and gave him a light from his flame. Ben broke the rules when it suited him and when he felt it might help him get through to a patient.

    Now you do something for me Algie.

    Algie took a long toke off of the cigarette and blew out the smoke in rings; it was the first feeling of relief he had felt since...since he got here, he guessed. What is that? Algie responded with a question.  These were the first words he had uttered since he got here.

    Put your pj's on and don your robe again Algie.

    Algie looked down. My God, I have been sitting here buck naked. The patient had not really noticed his 'condition'.  He duly complied, taking several more deep drags off his smoke and depositing the ashes in a plastic cup partially filled with water. He finished the cig and extinguished the butt in the cup.

    Algie, I like to start at the beginning of things. You are a highly educated scientist and I realize this, so I do not wish you to think I am talking down to you.  Do you believe that?

    Yes, he responded. Compliance is the best policy when you are powerless, Algie thought.

    Why are you here Algie?

    Algie's heartbeat quickened. His breathing became shallower. Perspiration appeared on his pate and his forehead.

    Now slow down. Take a deep breath Algie. That's right. Hold it in a second. Now let it out.

    The sight came back into his left eye and Algie began feeling more at ease. He continued this deep breathing exercise another five minutes. He looked carefully at his therapist and said: My friend was brutally murdered and I survived. I am being punished for surviving.

    This is the first time you have responded to anybody since that night Algie. It has been over a week since you arrived here. I would like to take a risk Algie. No matter what course of treatment I suggest, there is risk. Are you ready to take a risk Algie?

    Algie thought for a second; a week? Damn. He had no idea he had been there that long.

    Yes I am Doctor. Yes I am.

    Good. Then come with me.

    The door that had magically opened upon the arrival of Ben had remained open and the two simply waltzed out into the hall. And they walked on down the hall....

    What's it all about, Algie?
    Can you tell us just how Thomas died?
    What's it all about when you sort it out, Algie?
    Because we think that perhaps you have lied
    Or are we meant to be kind?
    And if only fools are kind, Algie,
    Then I guess it's wise to be cruel.
    And if you do not tell us what went wrong, Algie

    We have no choice but to call you a fool


    And you'll be stuck in here in the psych ward, Algie
    we know there's something going on
    Something ain't quite right in transvestite land...

    We believe in love, Algie
    but not men wearing stockings at all, Algie
    Until you tell us what happened there that night, Algie
    You won't walk out of here some day
    You won't find love in here, Algie
    Algie
    What's it all about?
    Algie?
    Algie...

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0lDSf0A9RTk&feature=PlayList&p=E82F8EA9BF55CB85&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=42  (lyrics furnished by LISB)


    Sean and Bernice from accounting finally 'retired' to  Bernice's place. They had learned at lot that evening at the Castle. Hanson had divulged some secrets about NORTHCO and the fourth floor.

    Following the narrative concerning UFO's and such, Sean had inquired about maintenance. It must be difficult to keep that building so clean. Well Hanson could not shut up after that. Even though the janitor never had been allowed access to the basement of the office building, he had been to the fourth floor on occasion.

    And what a mess Hanson had found there. Shredded paper all over the place...the floor, the desks. Costumes for Christsakes. What the hell was that all about. And cages with animals stacked on the wall, the west wall he thought. There were no windows as such and the lighting was strange.

    He could never bring help when he was ordered up there. And every time he had completed his 'tour', Sphincter would show up and order him to take this blue pill.

    At least he surmised this because the last time he cleaned up the top floor he was given the pill and tucked it under his tongue, spitting it out later. He was certain that it gave him headaches and he was not going through that again. So even though that last tour was the only one he recalled, there was enough familiarity there to cue him; to indicate that that had not been the first time in the mysterious attic.

    There was something else about the ten or so caged animals. Even though they all appeared to be examples of local breeds like raccoons and rabbits, THEY ALL GLOWED ORANGE.

    Where the piece to this puzzle fit was the question. But the late night ale had made the couple too whimsical for such inquiry.