Roommates

Martin picked up the chair beside the small table and threw it across the room as hard as he could. It missed Jesse by a few feet and crashed into the wall behind him and ricocheted to the floor and halfway back to the kitchen area.  The chair had a white plastic frame and an orange seating pad that wasn’t very comfortable, but at least it was soft.

Jesse looked at the chair sliding to a stop and then burst out laughing. He feigned falling backward onto the small bed behind him and made a show of rolling and flailing his legs to add more fuel to make Martin’s already raging fire.

Martin rushed at Jesse but he was up on his feet in a second and jumped out of Martin’s path before he could reach the bed.

“Nice try, old man! A few more miles and you might have been close!”

“Shut your mouth you little bastard! I’ve had enough of your taunts and shitty attitude!”

Jesse raised his arms then dropped them at his sides as he challenged Martin again.

“What are you gonna do about it, huh? It’s just how I am, bud. You’re gonna have to accept that sooner or later.”

“Or maybe I can teach you a lesson and wipe that smug look off your stupid face!”

“Ha! In your dreams, old man. You can’t even hit me with a freaking chair! How do you expect to change my attitude?”

“Maybe you could be mature for once in your miserable life and grow up! Or do I have to do that for you too?.”

“Oh Please! You can’t do anything for me. You can’t even do that for yourself! When are you gonna learn that? How long have you been trying to do it?”. Jesse shook his head disapprovingly. “You can’t change the people around you, Martin. Get it through your thick skull already! How’s that working out for you, huh?”

Jesse waived his hands around the small room. There wasn’t much to it; four walls, fluorescent lighting in the ceiling, plain tile floor with a light gray rug covering most of it. The room could pass for an efficiency apartment, but there was no design to it. It was just a square room, divided into little “areas” for sleeping, eating, sitting, and a bathroom. There were two small windows high up on the wall near the ceiling, opposite the front door, just big enough to let in sunlight and see small pieces of the sky.

Martin tried to catch his breath and slumped onto his bed. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees and rested his face in his hands. He groaned his frustration into his palms before looking back up at Jesse.

Jesse was in his late-teens or early twenties; it didn’t really matter which because his maturity was clearly not where it should have been at his age. He was a well-built kid, fit and had a messy crop of sandy blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. He dressed like a sloppy teenager would, tight shirts and baggy jeans. He looked ridiculous to Martin now. It wasn’t that way when they’d first met. Martin had been desperate then.

Martin had lived in his small room for almost three years when he decided he had been lonely for long enough. At his age and condition, he knew developing any sort of meaningful relationship with a woman was out of the question, so he figured on settling for a roommate. Someone he could interact and bond with, share meals or at least learn from to improve himself. At the very least, he wouldn’t be alone anymore.

Martin had gone through a few roommates but none had seemed to work out. They were too much like himself or reminded him of hard times in the past, times he’d rather forget. But when Jesse showed up, his bright eyes and youthful appearance seemed to liven up the whole place, and right away Martin knew he had made a good choice. Things would be different this time.

The two got along fine at first, both keeping the place clean and respecting each other’s privacy. But as time went on, they both got lazy in keeping the room in order and boundaries were starting to crumble. Martin began taking on a fatherly role and Jesse, appropriately, took on the role of a rebellious son. The two butt heads more than they spoke and tensions rose higher and higher on a daily basis.

Martin was much older, in his late fifties. His physical and mental health were degrading and that only added another level of anger and aggression between them. Martin would try to discipline Jesse, to improve his character in hopes it may help them both the grow and mature. Jesse began teasing Martin and calling him “old man” and no longer listened to Martin’s words or suggestions so that they would fight less. Jesse didn’t seem interested in fighting less. He no longer wanted anything to do with Martin, but given his own situation, there was nowhere else he could go. Now it was just a waiting game to see who could outlast the other.

Martin began seeing a doctor regularly. Hoping to see some sort of improvement either physically or mentally so that maybe there could be some hope that he may be able to reconnect with his daughter. He hadn’t seen her in years.

As Martin sat on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his palms, he remembered her. She was beautiful, had her mother’s eyes and her charming personality. He missed her but couldn’t help recall the last time they spoke. It didn’t end well.

***

Almost five years ago, he had made another mistake and his daughter Sarah had had enough of them. Martin and his wife had divorced when Sarah was very young, and their relationship was difficult at best. When his wife died, Sarah was old enough to live on her own and decided to do so with no connection to Martin for many years. He lived on his own the entire time, just getting through life day by day with no real future or loving relationship. It began affecting him, his mental health declined and he struggled in nearly everything that required him to communicate with other people.

Suddenly, she contacted him one day, explaining she had run into some trouble and needed a little help to manage the situation. He jumped at the chance and offered anything she would need. What she needed was someone to live with her to help watch her new baby while she worked two jobs to provide for herself and the baby. They agreed that Martin could move I and live with her until she got back on her feet. They lived together for a few years and he was able to watch his granddaughter grow. 

But Martin already had problems of his own. With his declining health, he kept making mistakes that would endanger his granddaughter or at times even Sarah. It was always some excuse or another, and they would fight constantly and his anger would get out of control.

Sarah was limiting his contact with his granddaughter and began to separate more from him at home. She began to take trips away with just her daughter and had talked about finding a new home for just the two of them.

Martin didn’t approve of this at all and would constantly argue with her and demand that Sarah stop taking trips. He also began imposing rules on her, arguing that he was still her father and he knew best. Sarah would scoff at him and shout that he was a poor excuse for a father and she didn’t need him now anymore than she needed him when she was a little girl. Martin would shout back that she should grow up and stop acting so childish toward him. Sarah’s typical response was, “You can’t change the people around you, dad!”. The fights would usually end with something being thrown and someone getting hurt.

One day, something terrible happened and Sarah had reached her limit. She told him to go and to never come back and that he could no longer be around her daughter. She had forgiven him one too many times and now she lived to regret it. The last thing she said to him was “Get away from me!”.

Martin did not take that lightly, and he lashed out at Sarah. That’s when the memories get blurry. He might have hurt her, but he really couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter now, the results of that day are what led him to being confined in his little “prison cell”, as he calls it, isolated from everyone he ever knew and from living a normal life.

***

Martin took his face out of his hands and looked up at Jesse. He looked him up and down, disgusted with Jesse all over again, and spoke coldly to him.

“I think it’s time for you to go, Jesse.”

Jesse snorted and rolled his eyes at the ridiculous statement.

“Oh yeah? Is that right, old man? And you think I’m just going to go because you said so?”

“That’s right, because I said so.”

Jesse stiffened up and slowly walked over towards the bed. He stood in front of Martin, staring down his nose at him with anger pouring from his eyes. “You better think twice about this, old man.”

Martin stood up slowly, standing face to face with Jesse, his jaw clenched and his hands forming into fists.

“I don’t want you here anymore, Jesse. I don’t need you here, and I want you gone.”

“No you don’t, old man. That’s the opposite of what you want, because if I go, then you’ll be left alone again. Who’s going to be here with you now? Who would want to live in this shithole with you?”

Martin broke his stare away from Jesse’s eyes and looked down at the plastic chair a few feet away from them. He stepped aside and picked it up and set it back in its place beside the little table near the front door. He turned back to face Jesse, who was still standing near the bed. Both men were back where they started.

Martin sat in the little chair and tried to speak softly.

“Jesse, you are right.”

Jesse gave him a confused look and asked “Right about what? Hat are you talking about?”

Martin looked up at Jesse and tried to conceal his excitement.

“What you said before, about how I can’t change the people around me.”

Jesse rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed, slightly shaking his head.

“So we did this whole song and dance just to end up with you telling me that I’m right? What a waste of time, old man.”

Jesse chuckled a little to himself and then leaned forward like Martin had earlier, elbows on his knees and put his face into his palms. But then he looked up suddenly back toward Martin.

There was a young woman standing beside him. She had a pale complexion, soft blue eyes, and long blonde hair that reached down to her waist. She was wearing a white long sleeve shirt and white cotton pants but was barefoot.

Jesse muttered out, “Who the hell is she?”

Martin cleared his throat and focused his eyes on Jesse’s.

“You were right before, Jesse, but you missed a critical point.”

Jesse’s expression turned from confusion to irritation. But Martin continued before Jesse had a chance to respond.

“I can’t change the people around me, but I can change the people around me.”

Without warning, Martin leaped out of the chair and rushed to Jesse, just as before, but this time he hit his target. He jumped onto Jesse, shoving him backward onto the bed, and straddling him. Martin clamped his large hands around Jesse’s throat and squeezed with all of his strength.

Jesse thrashed around on the bed and clawed at Martin’s giant hands with no success. He stared up at Martin’s furious eyes and the fear and realization of what was about to happen seized him.

Martin began to shout at Jesse, “Go! I want you to go! I don’t want you here! Go! Go! GO!”

Jesse’s eyes turned red from the pressure squeezing the blood into his face. Martin leaned his body weight into his arms and let out a final guttural shout, “GET AWAY FROM ME!”

Martin shouted until his breath ran out. His voice echoed in the small room for a moment then everything fell silent. He found himself staring at an empty bed, his hands clutching nothing. He straightened up, ran his hands over his face and through his hair, then took a deep breath.

He turned around to face the woman, still standing motionless near the chair. Her eyes were locked onto his. Martin smiled gently, climbed off the bed, and walked over to her.

“Hello and welcome to my humble abode, my dear Emily!”

Emily looked around the small room, then back to the chair, then reconnected with Martin’s eye’s

“Who are you?”

“My name is Martin, and I’m your roommate.”

Emily had a puzzled look as she responded with a simple, “Roommate?”

Martin’s smile stretched across his face, “Yes, roommates. That means we live together.”

Emily accepted the answer without uncertainty. She took a deep breath and then paused for a moment before she spoke again.

“Why am I here?”

The smile on Martin’s face began to shrink and settled into a flat horizontal line that gave his face an unnatural appearance. He seemed lost in thought but then snapped out of it to answer her question.

“You’re here, Emily, to help me with something.”

“With what?”

“To get better. To find a way to leave this place.”

Emily studied Martin’s face, not sure what to make of the peculiar situation she found herself in only moments ago.

“Okay,” she said softly, “you want me to help you.”

“That’s right. I need your help to find a way out of here.”

“And where is ‘here’?”, she asked calmly.

Martin’s smile began slithering across his face again. He lifted his hands as he spoke, as if showcasing the room around him.

“This is the Lindale Criminal Mental Health & Recovery Hospital.”