No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

“It’s been three days”

A shuffle and a slap of flesh struck the concrete. 

Everything was cold and wet; honestly, I wouldn’t mind the cold if it weren’t for the constant drip of water that leaked from the ceiling every five minutes. I could almost predict when it would trail across those rusty pipes and fall against my head. Drip. Drip. A shiver trailed across my back. There was always the option to sit somewhere more dry. But those cold drops of water were a reminder that I am still alive and aware.

A cackle of laughter bounced from the other side of the wall and another bang as the body slapped against the concrete again. As though to gain my attention. I looked at the wall, toward the noise from the other side. For once, I was grateful to not see past those dark gray slabs.

“You don’t know what day it is do you?” the voice on the other side laughed as though it was the best joke he’s said in years. “You think you know what day it is, when you can’t even see the sun?” his voice rasped. He snorted and began to cackle again. “No one knows what time it is here.”

“It’s been three days.” I repeated, steadfast. 

Another howl of laughter, followed by a steady fit of coughing. 

He was another reminder I wasn’t alone. Constant fear of the quiet displaced by his occasional remarks. I didn’t quite hate him. But, he was, by far, the worst of the bunch. Crowded in cells there were close to ten of us packed inside. Crammed together so tight, the smell of sweat from bodies blanketed the air in every corner. Concrete walls to my back and sides, with rusted bars in the front. The only way out was through a locked bar on the other side. No one else slept in my section. I had a bed, a blanket, and two bowls that filled twice a day with hard, crunchy giblets that even the poorest rats in the alley would refuse to eat. Honestly, I’d prefer to eat the rats. 

Across from me, in another crowded cell, sat two others who haven’t spoken since I arrived. One of them cowered and cried, the other had such an animalistic gaze I wondered if they could speak at all. The rest of those who surrounded me were far from my sight, but sometimes, I heard them. A little girl slept in the corner cell, or so, I assumed. She cried most nights, and through her pain I cried quietly alongside her. She cried for her mother and her father. For her family. I would try to squeeze to the corner of my bars to get a better look, but I never saw her. 

“Ey…” Another slap against the wall and I glared at it, as though it personally offended me. “Listen...you, you think you’re getting out of here hah? Countin’ the days for your family to find ya, huh?” The voice from the side didn’t seem to hold any anger. Perhaps he was bored, or perhaps he lost his mind. It was so dark, I was surprised I had yet to lose mine. 

“My family will come back. I trust them.” Another garble of laughter and I glared at the wall. What was his problem? 

“Ah, to be young again, full of hope and dreams.” A pause and a heavy sigh. “Your time is up, you know. Five days is all they give you.” 

“It’s been three days!” I shot back, my heart raced and I stood up. He was lying. Wasn’t he? It hasn’t been five days yet. There was no way.

“You’ve been sitting on your ass waiting on your family to what-? To come pick you up, tell you it’s all ok? It’s been five days” he said with emphasis and I swallowed, “and still not a soul has come forward.”

“It’s not...I haven’t been here that long! My family cares about me and loves me.” The steady sound of the drip of water missed my nose; it plopped on the floor and sprayed against my side. A cold chill raced up my spine. “They wouldn’t...they wouldn’t leave me behind?” I began to pace back and forth, the drip of the water in time with my steps. I stopped at the front of the cage. “And...and how would you know that? You’re trapped here too!”

“Ah, see that's the difference, kid. I know my time is up, I’ve lived here for so many sunsets that it doesn’t matter.” 

Wait. Sunsets? How many days was he talking about? The sign on my door read five days. I stood on my toes to get a better look. The paper was wrinkled and had basic information scribbled underneath a faded black and white colored photo. I squinted at the bad handwriting. I wasn’t good at reading yet. But I knew the basics. The numbers, greetings, and Emily's name and favorite things in the world. Things like books, and stuffed bears, I loved those too. I didn’t get to play with them often, people didn’t seem to like me playing with those toys. Guess it looked odd, or perhaps I was too old. Though, ten years old, wasn’t...that old was it?

I pushed my face into the bars until I could taste the rust and the metal between my lips. The paper on the bottom read, five days. Which, if I was correct, meant how long I had the pleasure to stay in this forsaken place. I remember the terror from my first night. The sound of nails scrapping against concrete, it echoed down the hallway as someone was dragged away from their cell. They begged for their life and wet themselves in terror as they passed by my cell. After the door shut, I never heard from them again. I wondered what happened, but the neighbors' whispers fed enough of my curiosity and I’ve slept in fits ever since.

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

“Oh, time and time again,” he replied. “Time blurs for someone like me who can’t seem to stay out of this place.” 

“How?” I asked and walked back to the wall, willing for him to answer me. 

“It’s just what it is, kid. Sometimes, your fate is just all about luck. You wouldn’t know, you’re a dreamer. Just wait a little longer, maybe your family will show up.” he paused. “But maybe they won’t. Do you know what you’re going to do if they don’t?”

I hesitated. The thought never crossed my mind. They loved me and gave me a home when I lived on the streets. I had a daily plate filled with roasted chicken, rice and carrots. We loved to play outside, and on hot, sunny days we would ride on the boat, casting lines for fish and other treasure. Then, there was Emily. She loved me more than anyone ever should. She would wrap her arms around my shoulders and squeeze me so hard I would expect my nose to pop off. She’d dress me up and chase me in the house with water noodles. We’d run through sprinklers and read stories together. She wouldn’t...abandon me.

“There’s a difference between dreaming and acting, which one are you going to do, kid?” My daydreams filled with flowers and summer fun shattered as the stranger spoke again. “You don’t have any time left. You need to decide what you’re going to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“The lock on the cage can only be opened by them. You might have a chance if you fight back.”

“You mean escape?” my mouth went dry. “I don’t know where I even am. How am I supposed to find my family?”

“How do you know your family even wants you to find them?” 

A bang startled me from the conversation as light filled the darkness and dust danced across my eyes. I watched the shadows pass until a figure, tall and lean, stopped at the front of my cage. He peered inside and muttered a few words I couldn’t understand and began to play with the locked bar. It rattled with a few loud bangs. I didn’t look at his face. My eyes trained on the thing in his hand. A chain rope dangled between his fingers, the links clattered together with a ring.

“Come on kid, make your choice. You won’t get another one.” the stranger barked. 

A click and the bar fell to the floor with a clatter as the door opened. Freedom. I peered to the end of the hall, but to where? I didn’t know where I was or where to go. Cool metal slid across my neck and I pulled back in reflex. It was much cooler than the drops of water. The chains tugged and I almost toppled to the ground. The figure uttered a flow of garbled speech I couldn’t understand, commands like “come on” and “let’s go.” 

Go… I knew that word. Go...where? I looked up at him and I could feel another shiver course through me as I stared at him for answers. The figure stared back and tugged again, he held something in his hand, something meaty and flavorful. I had no appetite but I came anyway. The door shut behind me with a loud clang. I heard a loud ripping sound. The sheet on the cage was torn half off then stuffed in his pocket. A bright, red X across my photo. 

Another soft tug against my neck and I couldn’t find the will to move. I heard a sigh of breath and looked over at the cell next to me. I had a clear view of my neighbor. He sat against the wall. He was tall with dark brown and black splotches across his fur and a long gray snout to match. A German Shepherd. He eyed me. His snout pointed toward the floor, eyes squinted, a look of pity. We stared at each other and I wanted to ask him what was going on. But the words never came. Another tug and a soft call from the figure beside me.

“Sometimes, you’re just born in the wrong body, kid.” he spoke, head tilted, his ears flopped to the side. He looked away. “I didn’t want to watch another one...” he trailed off.

“Wait, wait. What does that mean? Wait-” I pulled against the chain and the human pulled back. I hit the floor with such force my jaw popped. Shouts of disapproval and a yank from the chains threw my head into a whiplash. I pulled back my ears, as words like “Pitbull” and “bad” used interchangeably, followed by a string of curses. I’ve heard those words before. They always seemed to be directed toward me. As though, it was part of my name, my title.

The Shepherd refused to look at me and didn’t answer. I looked up at the human attached to my chain instead.

“Wait, please, I have a family.” I could feel the whine cross my words as I begged. “A little girl, her name is Emily,” I tried to explain, “she’s only six, please, I promised to be there for her.” I tugged at the chain for emphasis. “There’s a man next door that grabbed her, and I have to protect her, please, she’s my world-” the words vanished as the door opened and a second human stood next to them. They couldn’t understand me, could they? They spoke to each other and without warning the tugging turned into dragging and I couldn’t stop it. 

I looked to the Shepherd as my nails scraped against concrete, dragging on my side. Desperate, I called to him, “ I was protecting her!” I could feel my voice crack.

“I know,” he said as the chains pulled me into a little room at the back. “Maybe you’ll get lucky in your next life.” 

It was the last thing I heard as the door shut. 

I wasn’t going home, was I?