Short Story: The Empty Chair

I slithered along the wall from the back of the room half way down on the right hand side. Not a seat anywhere. I tried not to groan audibly, but I knew my back couldn’t handle it if I had to stand up for the whole thing. Little by little my eyes adjusted to the low light in the room, and I could see a vacant expanse of wall. At least I would be able to lean. There seemed to be people doing that very thing all around the room. At the back they were two or three deep.

Somebody cleared their throat, and I noticed how quiet it was in this theatre. All eyes were on the empty chair up front. Nobody interacting at all. Just sitting there anticipating what was to come. Well, I thought, I guess this is the main event. An “E” ticket, as they used to say in Disneyland. The big show. Personally, I wasn’t looking forward to it. But I’d been assigned to cover it, so here I was.

I should have guessed the room would be crowded from the size of the crowds outside. Demonstrators from both sides lined the road all the way up the hill, and the police were making a concerted effort to keep the two groups apart. Several television news crews were parked along the edge of the road, and reporters were holding microphones and covering the scene for the TV news. Story at eleven. Midnight actually, to be precise.

The atmosphere was definitely tense in here. There is a certain smell, well not precisely a “smell,” but a sense you get when there are too many people crammed into a room without windows. Even though I could hear the air conditioning whirring softly, the air in the room was close.

Then a light came on, and the guys in uniform started filing onto the stage. They took their places on either side and surveyed the room. I checked for my nametag, making sure everything was in order. I was where I was supposed to be, after all. But the uniforms made me nervous just the same. I patted my “PRESS” tag and thought about all the places it had taken me over the years. Places I never would have gotten near to being before. Not that I would have missed it altogether. No, not hardly. I probably would have been here.

Before becoming a reporter, I had been a “rabble-rouser” as they say. I guess I was kind of a troublemaker, a demonstrator for causes of all kinds and a pothead to boot. An outlaw as far as that goes. Yes, the pure flame had most assuredly burned in my heart. I was young and I wanted to change the world. In those days, I probably would have been down there in the road with the so-called “anti’s,” but now, at the ripe old age of 32, here I was in a business suit with a front row seat. Yes, things had really changed for me.

I remember the turning point. I had dropped out of school and quite my job, and joined a revolutionary cell. My roommate’s boyfriend had recruited me. Well, ex-boyfriend. When she threw him out, I left with him. He had this crazy look in his eyes. All he ever talked about was the revolution.

One thing that really amazed me was how easy it was. People gave us houses, clothes, cars, money. Financially, I actually felt more secure after I dropped out than I had when I was working my butt off to make ends meet. I didn’t know what I wanted to major in, and college was as much of a drag as my $ 3.52 an hour job in a department store. It was a time in my young life when I was going nowhere.

Entertainment consisted of rock and roll music and smoking pot, and when I could afford it the occasional live concert. Right after the last demonstration against the war, I’d broken up with my boyfriend. One night, we were running from the teargas canisters in Dupont Circle, and the next day he was holding hands with a blond we met at the organizing office. All the way back to New York, I sat in the back seat fuming.

So when Gino said I could come with him and change the world for real, I was ready to go. At first, it was fun. Everything was provided for us. Gino did all the talking, and all I had to do was listen and participate. It started out with fundraising stuff, standing on the curb in a shopping mall with a bucket and a sign, collecting the cash people seemed all too willing to confer on whatever cause we were advertising that day.

Then it was organizing the farm workers, going door to door signing them into the union. Even the hunger strike was easy for me. I stood at the door of the grocery store handing out flyers. The Spring and Summer passed this way, and I was having a pretty good time.

Then one day, there was a conversation about blowing up a dam. They were talking about planting explosives. We all had to memorize the phone number of an attorney to call if we got arrested. And when the conversation ended, Gino handed me a revolver and told me to carry it from now on.

The idea of carrying a loaded gun in my waistband took the whole thing to a new level. I slept on it that night, and in the morning I quietly walked away before breakfast. I left the gun on the bed I had slept in, walked to the highway and hitched a ride back into the city. That was the end of my career as a revolutionary.

So here I was, thinking back on the turning point in my life. When I got back into school, I started taking Journalism classes, and presto! Here I was, lurking around at all the big events of the day, but with permission, officially sanctioned, as it were. I’d always been one of the good guys, but I’d almost lost my way.

I wondered how the man of the hour had ended up on this stage tonight, surrounded by uniformed guards and high-level security. What was the turning point in his life, I wondered? How did he end up here instead of the million other places he could have headed in his life? Well, he certainly had the spotlight tonight.

The Chaplain walked onto the stage and stood facing us with a Bible in his hand. He motioned us to stand up with his other hand. Then he opened the Bible and began to read, “The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want…”

Behind him the door opened and more guards appeared. The two in the front had him by the shoulders. They were holding him up and seemed to be carrying him along. His feet dragged behind him on the floor. His head was bowed. At first I thought he was asleep, or drugged. But then he picked his head up and looked out at us. His eyes were wild.

Script: Getting Off

The light at the end of her cigarette glows for an instant and illuminates the tip of her nose.

TONI

How long is this going to take?

ANGELA

I don’t know. You’re not supposed to smoke in the subway you know.

TONI

Whatever.

ANGELA

Just stay close, okay?

TONI

Fucking high heels!
(she grabs her friends arm to keep from falling)

ANGELA

Shit, Toni, you damn near pulled me over.

TONI

Damn. I’m sorry, okay? Wait, I need to hold onto you.

ANGELA

Okay, wait a minute. You’re pulling my coat off my shoulder. Take it easy would you?

TONI

Alright, okay. Don’t get your tits in a knot. I’m just trying not to fall down.

ANGELA

Just hold onto my shoulder.

TONI

Okay. Okay.

ANGELA

That’s better. Where the fuck are we?

TONI

I don’t know. Somewhere in the tunnel. This shit is hard to walk on.

ANGELA

No kidding.

TONI

We should have stayed on the train.

ANGELA

No way.

TONI

Way.

ANGELA

What? Did you happen to notice how it smelled in there?

TONI

I did actually. That’s why I lit a cigarette as soon as we got out.

ANGELA

Fucking stench was overpowering!

TONI

I know. Can you believe how bad human beings smell?

ANGELA

Worse than a dirty fucking diaper. I swear.

TONI

Hey wait. I see a light.

ANGELA

Where? I don’t see anything.

TONI

Down there. Way down there. Don’t you see it?

ANGELA

Oh yeah.

TONI

Looks like a long way.

ANGELA

Shit. This was a really bad idea. We need to get out of this fucking tunnel.

TONI

Yeah right. Just walk toward the light. We go back to the last station and we get out to the street. My Mom’s place is right there, and she’ll give us a lift back to the apartment. We just walk toward the light.

ANGELA

You know what that makes me think of?

TONI

No, what?

ANGELA

They say when people die, they walk through this tunnel toward the light.

TONI

Goddamn it Angie. That is too fucking morbid. Cut it out!

ANGELA

What do you mean? I’m not morbid. Hey, light another cigarette, would you?

TONI

What’s the matter? Afraid of the dark?

ANGELA

Asshole.

TONI

Sorry. That was bad.

ANGELA

Give me one.

TONI

K. Here.

ANGELA

What was that?

TONI

What?

ANGELA

Didn’t you hear that?

TONI

No, what?

ANGELA

That. Listen.
(listens attentively)

TONI

(listens attentively)
Oh that. What is that?

ANGELA

I don’t know.

TONI

What direction is it coming from?

ANGELA

I don’t know. I can’t tell. It’s so fucking dark. Wait.

TONI

Oh shit. There’s something out there.

ANGELA

Shit.

TONI

Keep walking.

ANGELA

Fuck, it’s behind us.

TONI

You think?

ANGELA

I think so.

TONI

Shit, I can’t walk any faster.

ANGELA

Take your shoes off.

TONI

What?

ANGELA

Take your shoes off. We can go faster that way.

TONI

Yuck. No way.

ANGELA

Why not?

TONI

I have nylons on!

ANGELA

Do you hear that?

TONI

Fuck. Alright, alright.

ANGELA

Good. Hurry.

TONI

Shit! I can’t believe this. Okay, they’re off.

ANGELA

Wait a minute. The light, it’s getting closer.

TONI

Yeah, so?

ANGELA

No, I mean it’s getting closer. Fast.

TONI

Really?

ANGELA

No kidding. Look at it.

TONI

Goddamn it.

ANGELA

Oh shit. It’s a train.

TONI

Shit!

ANGELA

Oh God, what do we do?

TONI

Uh…

ANGELA

We have to get off the tracks.

TONI

Oh God.

ANGELA

Oh God.

TONI

Wait. My lighter. Here. What do you see?

ANGELA

I don’t know.

TONI

Look. Over there. There’s a space.

ANGELA

Quick.

TONI

Get in. Quick.

ANGELA

Oh my God, it’s coming.

TONI

Hold me!

ANGELA

Shit.

TONI

Oh, God.

ANGELA

(Screams.)

TONI

(Screams.)

ANGELA

Holy shit.

TONI

Are you alright?

ANGELA

That was weird.

TONI

Damn.

ANGELA

I know.

TONI

(Laughs.)

ANGELA

(Laughs.)

TONI

Well, I’m glad that’s over.

ANGELA

No shit.

TONI

We should have stayed on the fucking train.

ANGELA

You may be right.

TONI

It’s too late now.

ANGELA

What happened to that noise we heard?

TONI

I don’t know.

ANGELA

I can’t hear it anymore.

TONI

No. Me either.

ANGELA

Let’s go.

TONI

Yeah.

ANGELA

I just want to get out of here.

TONI

Me too. Me too.

ANGELA

I think I peed my pants.

TONI

No way.

ANGELA

Way.

TONI

Oh God. That’s harsh.

ANGELA

Just a little.

TONI

Damn.

ANGELA

I know. It’s not too bad.

TONI

My feet are wet.

ANGELA

That’s gross.

TONI

Tell me about it.

ANGELA

Let’s get the fuck out of here.

TONI

This is a fucking nightmare!

ANGELA

I wish!

TONI

Wake me when it’s over.

ANGELA

Right.

TONI

Fucking subway. I hate the fucking subway.

ANGELA

Me too.

TONI

What was that?

ANGELA

Wait. I heard it again.

TONI

What?

ANGELA

You know. That noise.

TONI

Fuck.

ANGELA

What is that?

TONI

It’s probably the goddamn rats. Subway’s full of them.

ANGELA

Oh God. Light your lighter.

TONI

Wait. Here.

ANGELA

I can’t see anything.

TONI

Me either.

ANGELA

We just keep going straight down the tunnel.

TONI

Right.

ANGELA

The next station is right up there.

TONI

Yeah.

ANGELA

We’re almost there.

TONI

Amen.

ANGELA

Oh wow, look over there.

TONI

Stairs!

ANGELA

Yes! I was worried about that.

TONI

Me too.

ANGELA

Hey, girl, we made it.

TONI

Woo Hoo.

ANGELA

We are outta here!

TONI

Shit Angie, my feet!

ANGELA

Pretty bad?

TONI

Black.

ANGELA

Oh.

TONI

Wet.

ANGELA

I’m sorry hon. Just don’t think about it. Here, sit down over here and put your shoes on. But don’t look.

TONI

Ugh.

ANGELA

We’ll be home soon.

TONI

Yeah. And I am gonna strip naked and jump in the shower. And these clothes, I’m gonna burn them.

ANGELA

I know. Me too.

TONI

Well, actually, I think I’ll put them in a big garbage bag and seal it and take it straight out to the dumpster.

ANGELA

Right.

TONI

Right.

ANGELA

Toni?

TONI

Yeah?

ANGELA

Next time the train breaks down?

TONI

Yeah, we stay on it.

ANGELA

And Toni?

TONI

Yeah?

ANGELA

Don’t tell anybody.

TONI

My lips are sealed.

ANGELA

This never happened.

TONI

What?

ANGELA

Right. What?

TONI

Okay. Let’s go home.