The Photo Without Context

After two hours of lying on his back in bed, Dad began to fuse with his mattress. It was 117 degrees. He was drenched in sweat that had formed an outline of his body on his fitted sheet. I used a stick I retrieved from the backyard to poke his hairy belly that peaked from his shirt. Nothing happened. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving.

Just another fat guy lost to this heckish summer heat, I thought. He was never a likable man, but even I knew he shouldn’t have died so young. I kneeled on the side of his bed and say a prayer. Mors vincit omnia.

“Urrrrrrsrgdvwj,” he said. He was still alive. My eyes lit up, because this meant he could pick up sandwiches from Arby’s later. I poked him again with the stick. He grumbled. “So hot. Let me die.”

When I got off the floor, I noticed that the framed photo on his nightstand was missing. It was crawling on the floor, moving toward the wall. I bent down to retrieve it while it squeezed through a tiny crack in the base of the wall. I merely grabbed its corners when I was pulled along with the photo, into the tiny world the wall was hiding from Dad and me.

Everything was darker after that, but there was enough light from the intense sun to see what was in front of me. Dad’s photo was ten times bigger than me now. It was also being stolen, by a taupe, repulsive bug person about my height, who I suspected magically pulled the photo into the wall and shrunk me at the same time. I hated bugs, AND I hated magic, so I ran over to the bug, closed my eyes and started to punch it over and over again while screaming a high-pitched scream. While screaming, I didn’t hear anything else approach me, which is how two more bug people grabbed me from behind and subdued me. I tried to break away from them, but their hands were too sticky.

“Stop in the name of the law!” one of them shouted. They wrapped my hands behind my back and my ankles together with dental floss. They threw me in the back of a cop car, one I recognized immediately: it was a toy cop car from a toy car set Dad got for me last year. I looked for it for hours when I first lost it. The set was ruined by its absence.

As the bug people cops drove me way, I looked out the window at all we passed by. An old Randy Orton action figure positioned on all fours, five hair scrunchies stacked on top of each other, plastic forks (with remnants of macaroni cheese on their tines) stacked together to resemble a pyramid, Dad’s rubber ducky-patterned boxer shorts, and so much more stuff, not all of which I recognized, but the ones I did I knew we’ve lost in the house at one time or another. Everything kept their actual size, and each thing had a bug person or group of bug people living inside of it, like we were driving through a suburban neighborhood.

Finally, the bug cops stopped at a coral hair claw clip. They dragged me out the cop car kicking and screaming, and clamped the hair clip around me—a jail of sorts. They left me there for what felt like hours. I could hardly roll around in this contraption, it was hot and stuffy in there, and I still wanted a slow roasted beef sandwich from Arby’s. But really, I just wanted to get my Dad’s framed photo back. It’s a photo of him and a woman holding a huge bass on a boat. She used to be someone he knew, I think. Dad smiles in the photo, which was weird. On more than one occasion I caught his staring at it longingly before acting like he wasn’t. when he would notice me. I knew he'd be upset by its disappearance.

After some time, the bug cops reappeared and dragged me to their bug courthouse, a crude assemblance of torn pieces of wood, probably from the aged backyard shed. The cops untied my hands and ankles and made me walk through a courtroom of seated bug people, all staring at me like I was a freak, which I guess I was, given I was a different species. I had to sit next to a bug person with a blue tie. “What’s good, young blood?” it said to me. “My name’s Leeroy Hemsworth III, and I’m your court appointed lawyer for these here proceedings. Now, I ain’t gonna, lie, you dun bucked up when you beat the bricks off that woman over there, I’m gonna do the best I can for as much as free labor would call for me to do. So don’t you front. Ol’ Leeroy’s gotcha, ya feel me?” I nodded my head and said nothing. What could I say in such a bizarre situation, surrounded by bizarre insects?

I looked to my right, where a bug person with a red tie sat next to another bug wearing a neck brace and a sling. Everyone looked the same (and gross)—I couldn’t tell the women from the men.

A security bug appeared before everyone. “All rise for the honorable Judge John McClane Judie.” Everyone stood up for the arrival of a bug wearing a black robe and a powdered wig. It studdled up a stack of wood chips so that it looked down on all of us.

“Please be seated,” said Judge Judie. “We are here today for the case of the plaintiff, Lizzie Elizabeth, vs the defendant, the Creature from the Outside. Elizabeth is seeking a twenty-five year sentence for the Creature, as well as £5,000 for medical expenses. Counselor Hemsworth of the defense, how does your client plea?”

“Guilty, your honor. We want a plea deal, playa.” said Leeroy.

“No!” I cried. “I’m not guilty. She was stealing from me.”

“Oh, my bad, your honor. Not guilty, by way of insanity.”

I was equally flustered by Leeroy declaring that I was insane, but before I interjected again, he whispered, “You think you gonna whoop up on someone and just go about your business? C’mon, kid, they got witnesses an’ everything. The jury will probably convict you just for wearing that soft-ass, tapioca skin of yours, ya feel me? Chill, bruh, we gotta be smart about this.” I sat and pouted. He was right, but I knew he wasn’t on my side.

“Counselor David Abramsberg, your opening statement, please,” said Judge Judie.

The lawyer for the plaintiff walked in front of everyone, but turned toward the jury. He slipped on suspenders, pulled them, then let them go so they snapped against his shoulders. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. My client, Lizzie Elizabeth, is the most sweetest Isopteran you’ll ever meet in your natural life. Hard working, community-oriented, Allah-fearing, and much more. All she wanted to do was find a new home, the same way you and I need a new home from time to time. But then she was brutally assaulted and nearly unalived by that monster with the weird skin, who was of sound mind with a lust for violent sport, choosing to attack the first Isopteran it saw in a display of premeditated barbarity. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, after this evening, when nothing is left unsaid, I pray you understand that morally absent monsters should not be allowed to roam free, but instead detained—and fined—by the law.”

Abramsberg walked back to his seat next to Lizzie. It was then Leeroy’s turn to address the jury.

“Fine folks of the jury,” began Leeroy, “this lil’ nigglet here ain’t done nothing we don’t expect a monster to do. It ain’t got no job. It ain’t pay no taxes. It probably ate its siblings in the womb. It ain’t even an Isoptera, so I don’t even know why we gotta go through all this legal rigamaroo. Look, people, it needs therapy is all I’m saying.” Then he sat back down.

#

“State your name for the record, sir,” said Abramsberg.

“Dwayne DaRock,” said the first witness of the proceedings, a tired, more hunched over bug person.

“What were you doing yesterday, June 28th, at 1:30 p.m.?”

“I was sweeping my porch. I had nothing better to do. Television hasn’t been invented in our size, yet. Plus, my wife past recently, so I like to get some fresh air outside the house every once in a while to not feel so cripplingly lonely constantly.”

“And did you see anything unusual involving Ms. Elizabeth at the time?”

“Yes. I can tell she was acquiring a new home, and one does from time to time, when the Creature—”

“I’m sorry, sir, but can you point out the creature in the courtroom for the sake of the jury.”

“Of course. It’s over there, the abomination.” DaRock pointed at me. “As I was saying, as Ms. Elizabeth was acquiring her new home, the Creature screamed like a banshee and started pummeling her relentlessly. Caused her to drop her home and everything. If I were six months younger (as you know, Isopterans only average a one-year lifespan) I would have risked my life to stop it myself. But I’m old now, so instead I ran inside and called the police.”

“No further questions,” said Abramsberg.

Leeroy got up to question the witness this time. And while my heart raced and my stomach hurt from hunger, Leeroy appeared calm and collected.

“Mr. DaRock,” said Leeroy, “we all can plainly see that you’re old. How do we know you were actually able to see the Creature attack Ms. Elizabeth?”

“Oh, well, I was wearing my glasses, like I’m wearing them now.” This was true. DaRock was wearing a pair of spectacles on his bug face. “My eyesight is terrible, but my prescription is up to date. Thanks to my great eyecare insurance, I was able to see everything that happened yesterday.”

Leeroy stared at him for a moment. “No further questions.”

I rested my face in my palms and shook my head.

#

“My partner arrived on the scene at 1:32 p.m.,” said Officer Craig Juicibottom, who had a mustache, testifying on behalf of the plaintiff. “It didn’t take us long because we were lunching on a couple of curly fries and weren’t doing much else. But by the time we got to the scene, significant damage was already done to the victim.”

I zoned out for couple of minutes. Arby’s has curly fries. I want Arby’s so bad. The thought of warm Arby’s in my mouth made me drool.

“And did the Creature look crazed or mentally ill when you apprehended it, Officer Juicibottom?” asked Abramsberg.

“Look,” said Juicibottom, “I’ve been a cop for most of my life. I’ve physically detained mentally ill suspects, mentally underdeveloped suspects, mentally challenged suspects, you name it. The look on that thing’s face when I dragged it off of Lizzie Elizabeth was the look of someone who felt personally disrespected, and instead of using words to resolve its issues like an adult, it chose to use violence to have its way.”

“But I’m not an adult!” I cried.

Judged Judie banged his gavel several times. “Order in the court! Order, I say! Hemsworth, you control your client or I will, understand.”

“Shoot, I been tryin’ to tell y’all the thing’s crazy,” said Leeroy. He patted me on the back and whispered that I was helping our case. I kept my mouth shut; I didn’t want anyone to think I was crazy.

“Do you have any further questions for the officer, Abramsberg?” asked the judge.

“No, your honor.”

“Okay. Hemsworth?”

Leeroy cleared his throat. “I don’t speak with 12. So, uh, nah, your honor.”

#

“All I remember from that moment was my little boy, Roberto, calling out to me. ‘Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!’ I feared for my son’s life more than my own,” recounted Lizzie Elizabeth during her testimony. I stared at the floor with my fingers pulling my hair. Not from guilt. I just knew that Lizzie’s words meant the end of my defense. “When the officers finally pulled that monster off me, my swollen eyes saw the terror on my son’s face. It broke my heart.”

There wasn’t a dry eye among the spectators nor the jury. Even Judge Judie wiped a tear.

“Now, not only can’t I work because of my broken arm and broken neck, but my new home, which I purchased after weeks of saving money, is now damaged beyond repair.”

“Please,” said the judge, “Bring in the damaged property.” Two officers dragged in through a side door the framed photo of Dad and the woman he never talked about. It towered over everyone. Even more looming was the crack travelling down its glass center.

“It’s so horrible,” cried Lizzie. “All my life’s savings and this is all I get.” She sobbed uncontrollably.

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Elizabeth,” said Judge Judie. “You may be excused. We will take a short recess to recompose ourselves.”

Leeroy didn’t even get a chance to ask his own questions. My stomach growled. I wanted this to end so badly.

#

“Creature, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you Caucasian God?” asked the officer who swore me in. I took the stand with my hand on a bible and a touch of nervousness.

“I do,” I said. Everyone stared at me. It was still creepy because of their bug eyes, but scary at the same time. Like they all wanted to eat me. And that reminded me of how starving I was, and how the bugs, for a moment, kinda looked like chicken.

“Mr. Lil Creature,” said Leeroy. He paced back and forth. “Mr. Hoodlum Crackerjack. Mr….Mr. Plush Skin over here. What even is you, man?”

“I’m a human, sir,” I said.

“A human? Ya mean them giants up there that move really slow. Or you think we move very fast cuz we ain’t giants?”

“I dunno. I think so.”

“And you think this home right here,” He points to the photo that’s almost as tall as the courthouse ceiling, “is a human home?”

“It’s not a home, sir. It’s a photo. It belongs to my dad. It’s really important to him.”

Leeroy turns to the jury. “Ladies and gentleman, what we got here is a monster that thinks it’s a human despite being as big as us, that thinks time moves too fast when in fact it moves regular, and that thinks houses are pictures, when in reality this picture is a house. If that ain’t crazy, I dunno what is. I rest my case.” He then sits down, rather proud of his argument.

Abramsberg stands up and approaches me. “Mr. Creature, are you saying that this ‘photo’ belongs to your ‘dad’?”

“Yeah, it’s my dad’s photo. And someone’s using MY action figure as a house. And the cop drove me to jail in MY toy police car. Why are you all stealing my stuff and acting like you brought them?”

“So, you’re of sound mind, and feel justified in assaulting Ms. Elizabeth?”

“I thought she was a bug.”

Everyone in the courtroom gasped.

“I’m sorry!” I cried. “I was scared. I didn’t know what she was.”

“This is racism. You understand you’re being racist, right, Mr. Creature?”

I lowered my eyes. “I’m not racist,” I said in a low tone and didn’t believe the words.

“You disgust me, Creature. We Isopterans are a proud people. Something as gross-looking as you have no business hating us. No further questions.”

“Then we will give the jury some time to reach a verdict,” said Judge Judie.

The jury huddled amongst themselves and whispered to each other for five seconds. Then one jury stood up and said, “Your honor, we find the Creature guilt.”

“Then, Creature, you are hereby sentenced however many years I said at the beginning of the trial, but a few more retroactively tacked on for good measure.” Judge Judie banked his gavel, and my fate was sealed.

Two officers approached me while I was still on the stand. I’m not sure what came over me, but I knew it was a combination of rage and frustration and hunger. When the officers grabbed me to take me to jail, I bit one through its arm. It tasted awful. Everybody panicked. A monster eating people was something no one was ready for. Leeroy, Abramsberg, the judge, and everyone else rushed out the courtroom, scared for their lives.

After I puked out the bits of bug meat I swallowed, I dragged the photo out the courtroom and beyond. It was so heavy; I didn’t have bug strength at the time. But I was determined. I dragged the photo until I found the same crack I entered the wall through. When I exited the wall, the mysterious magic that shrunk me wore off, and I was my normal size again, filthy, tired, and hungry.

Dad just peeled himself off the bed when I immerged. The sun was still bright, the air still hot, as if barely any time passed for humans.

He sat on the edge of the bed, giving me a funny look. “What in the world happened to you?”

I handed him his photo. “I got it back for you.”

I couldn’t tell the look on his face as he stared at the photo of him and my mom, but he stared at it for a long while. He took his time tracing his finger along the crack in the glass.

Finally, he looked up at me, and his eyes became more serious. “Why did you break it?” he asked.

“I saved it from bug people, Dad! I want Arby’s!”