Hell Is Other People

"The gates of Hell are open night and day;

Smooth the descent, and easy is the way.”

- Virgil

They all just sat there in the heat, and they waited.

The Kid came back. He was walking down the platform with his head hung low, sweat running down his pimpled face, like always. He was sixteen but looked more like thirteen, short and skinny with longish dark hair and a black eye. The black eye was always there. It never faded. He took a seat at the end of the bench with the others and looked down at his dirty old sneakers.

Roman: Same shit, little man?

The Kid: Yeah.

Roman: I don’t know why you even bother no more.

They all just sat there in silence.

Sandra: It’s so hot today.

Three of them looked at her.

Roman: Bitch, it’s hot out here every day.

Sandra: I told you not to call me that.

Colonel DuValle: Roman, please.

Roman gave a tiny chuckle and pulled the pack of Newports from his pocket and lit one up. That pack was always near to full. He exhaled some smoke and looked down the tracks into the distance where the rails slowly bent off into the trees and out of sight. Sandra wrinkled her nose and waved the smoke away.

Roman: Man, when this train gonna come?

Brian: Why do you always ask that same question over and over?

Roman: Ay yo, man. I already done told you to bite your tongue and stay over there you strange ass bitch. Don’t make me get up. It’s too hot for me to whip your ass right now, you silly lookin’ motherfucker.

They all just sat there in silence. Colette fanned herself with the folded newspaper, looked down the tracks, and then handed it to the Colonel, who did the same. Roman took one last drag on his cigarette and then flicked it at Brian seated at the end of the bench, bouncing it off his jeans and leaving a small horsetail of orange sparks in the air as it fell to the platform. Brian did not respond at all. Roman chuckled.

The Kid: I’m gonna take a walk.

Roman: Seriously, man? Again? Is you retarded?

The Kid: Fuck off. I'm gonna take a walk. You can come with me if you want.

Roman: Nah, man. I'm good, shorty. You go off and wander. I'll be coolin' it right here when you get back.

The Kid walked off down the platform towards the exit stairs, giving Roman - or maybe all of them - the finger with his right hand held over his narrow shoulders as he departed, not looking back. As he passed the thermometer mounted on the wall the temperature read one hundred seventeen degrees Fahrenheit. Always one hundred seventeen degrees Fahrenheit. Always.

Colette: Can someone remind me how he got here? I know he’s told me but I just can’t remember.

Sandra: Me neither.

They all just quietly sat there in the heat for a while, Roman looking down the tracks every minute or two. He lit another Newport from the bottomless pack. Colette and Sandra both squinted and waved the smoke away. Brian looked up at the sky.

Brian: How come the sun never sets?

Colette: Sandra, I forgot how you got here too. I know we’ve discussed this before but I just can’t seem to remember these things.

Sandra: I came home from a business trip early one day and found the car that belongs to my husband’s 24-year-old secretary blocking the driveway. When I entered the house, I could immediately hear the sounds coming from the bedroom. I went to the stove and blew out the pilot light and turned up the gas. Then I lit a few candles on the dining room table, left the house and drove my car halfway down the block and watched as it went up in flames a little while later. It’s sad that my baby Jason was there in his crib at the time, but I really didn’t want to be a single mother. That was in 1972. What year is this?

Colette: Oh, that’s right. That's just awful!

Roman: Ay yo, do y’all ever plan to shut the fuck up? Makin' my head hurt over here.

Colonel DuValle: Roman, I must politely ask you once again to mind your language when speaking with the women.

Roman gave him an angry stare and then flicked his cigarette butt out onto the tracks and used his black bandana to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

Brian: Are we ever going to get any food? When is the food coming? I'm hungry.

Colette: I don’t think we can get food here.

Sandra: Colette, I forgot how you got here too. What awful thing did you do? Please remind me.

Colette gave her an aggrieved stare for a moment and then revealed a broad smile and answered in a flowery and friendly tone that could not have been less sincere.

Colette: I didn’t do anything awful, Sandra. Nothing like what you did. Your own child. Unthinkable. No, all I did was fulfill my Lord and Savior’s will. When I was working in the hospital, if I saw in a patient’s chart that she previously murdered an unborn child, well…I carried out God’s will. I did this six times before they caught me. I wish it was six thousand.

Sandra: I'm an atheist.

Colette laughed during her brief reply.

Colette: This is probably not the best place for you to cling to that silly notion, Dummy.

Sandra: Go fuck yourself, Colette.

They all went silent for a while. The heat was oppressive. There was no shade. There was no breeze.

Brian: When are we going to get something to eat?

Colonel DuValle: Son, I’ve been here far longer than any of you. I assure you, there will be no meals served.

Brian: Well, we all need water. Will we get some water at some point?

The Colonel ignored this query. After a while Roman spoke up.

Roman: Ay yo, old man. Remind me how you got here.

Colonel DuValle: I was in the war. At Antietam, we captured some rebel soldiers and we needed information about troop locations, numbers, armaments, that sort of intelligence. We did things to them to ensure that we got that information quickly, but later I was court martialed, and they hanged my commanding officer and myself in Washington for our war crimes. It was quite the scandal at that time.

Roman: Antietam? Where that at, man? Iraq?

Colonel DuValle: No, son. That’s in Maryland. Can you please remind me how you got here? I'm sorry. My memory is not what it once was.

Roman: Shot a few niggas.

Colonel DuValle: Excuse me, son? Can you repeat that?

Roman: Yeah, I shot a few niggas just down the block from where I stay in Washington Heights. I been running that corner for three years and one day these little bitches show up and just set up shop and start serving my customers. It wasn’t something I had to think ‘bout much. Shit. I also hit a delivery man bringing some cases of beer into the bodega on that corner, but I didn’t mean to do that. He was just in that wrong place at the wrong time. Then I shot it out with the NYPD. It was pretty quick. I caught a few in my back and one in my neck. Anyways, man, that’s how I got here.

He pointed at the scar on his neck and then lit another cigarette.

The Kid was walking back down the platform, his olive drab green US Army t-shirt heavily stained with sweat. The thermometer read one hundred seventeen degrees Fahrenheit, as always.

Sandra: Can someone remind me how he got here. I can’t seem to remember these things for long, for some reason.

Colette: I don’t recall either, but I’m sure he didn’t burn his child to death.

Sandra shot an angry look back at her, scowled and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest. Roman looked down the tracks.

Sandra: Fuck you, Colette.

Colette smiled, smugly.

Roman: Man, when this train gonna come?

Sandra: I do feel really bad about my son, Jason. I just didn't know what else to do in that moment. That's why I drove to the bridge afterwards.

The Kid took a seat at the end of the bench.

Sandra: Hey Kid, I’m sorry. Can you please remind us how you got here?

The Kid: I took my dad's pistol to school, and I shot a few bullies and this one asshole gym teacher. Then I shot myself.

The Kid never said very much.

Roman: Same shit, little man?

The Kid: Yeah, I walked and walked and ended up right back here, just like always. Felt like I was walking for two hours. Wish I had my iPhone. How long was I gone that time?

Roman: I don't know, man. Maybe four or five minutes. You see anything new?

The Kid: No. It doesn't matter which way I go. It’s just a long empty road, and then I pass by an empty high school that looks just like mine, and then I end up back here.

He stared down at his dirty old sneakers.

Colette: Maybe next time you should stop in that school and take some geography classes.

She laughed at her own joke and The Kid shot her a grave look. Sandra did too.

Sandra: Jean-Paul Sartre said, “Hell is other people”. I think he was right.

Sandra crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.

Colette: How did you get here, Brian?

Brian: I already told you. I took seventeen women between 1985 and 1992 before I was arrested. Mostly prostitutes. Then I was on death row down in Huntsville for about fourteen years until I ran out of appeals. Are they going to bring us any food?

They all went silent for a while and stewed in the heat of the brutal, unyielding sun. After a few minutes, Roman looked down the tracks.

Roman: Man, when this train gonna come?

Colonel DuValle: I wouldn’t be in such a rush, son.

Roman: Oh yeah, why dat?

Colonel DuValle paused and looked at the tracks running off in the opposite direction, towards the desert, before looking back at Roman.

Colonel DuValle: Well, son, we don’t know where that train is going to take us, do we?

He paused for another moment and stared off towards the desert again. He spoke without looking back this time. He spoke quietly.

Colonel DuValle: Maybe this is the best part. What if it only gets worse from here? What if this is just the beginning?

Roman lit another cigarette and then turned away and quietly stared in the other direction, down the tracks to the point where the rails bent off and disappeared beyond the trees. He exhaled and the smoke drifted down the bench towards the others.

They all sat there and waited for the train. Eventually, The Kid took another walk and then returned a short time later, drenched in sweat. Brian remained hungry. Colette and Sandra refused to look at one another. The Colonel had a solemn cast to his face and Roman continued to reach into his endless pack of cigarettes. The temperature was one hundred seventeen degrees Fahrenheit.

They all just sat there in the heat, and they waited.

THE END