The Perfect Revenge

Author : Rajrupa Gupta

About the Author:

Rajrupa is whimsical in one part, carefree daydreamer and obsessive freak in another part. She suffers from nostalgia and worries about the uncertain. She has a varied range of conflicting interests - books, movies, music, travel, architecture, hacking, cooking, sleeping, gossiping, being lazy on purpose and perhaps most importantly - observing people and reflecting about life. In her head random thoughts are always rioting to come out first. She presents them to you as Riot of Random.

I

I lay wide awake staring at the stone ceiling again. Sleeplessness was my only faithful companion since Dominique had died. Not that any of it mattered. Not when I had only 48 hours to live. Or was it even lesser? I didn't know. No sunlight entered where I lived, so I was starting to have a disoriented sense of day and night. I was counting my days just by the number of my meals and bath. I was relieved, almost happy that the hour of my execution was nearing.

I came to this isolated cell recently. Just a few days back. They wanted me to be in a low stimuli zone to calm my senses down. I guess it was easy on their nerves to stick the needles in when the person could produce no more than just a little confused stare.

I stayed inside for 23 hours and was let out for an hour to take bath. It was a perfectly square room with solid walls on all four sides with a little opening for a heavy iron barred gate. There was a toilet at the corner but no tissue. A yellow low wattage bulb hung from the ceiling - the only source of light inside the cell, which, at present was switched off. Outside the Iron Gate another solid door secured the view of the corridor from me. The guards had no way of seeing what I did inside. I guess they just didn’t care. Only the expendables came here. The solid door opened three times a day to pass on the meals while the barred gate opened only once when I was allowed to drag my feet for the shower.

Frankly, I preferred this over sharing a dingy nick with 11 other criminals. Inmates of this jail displayed such scrambled sense of public and private behaviours that it left me red faced many times. They m@sterb@ted openly, especially when a lady guard was on duty, in full sight of her. An act which they so proudly called as gunning. They sneered at my accent and the way I cringed when forced to use the open toilet in the nick. They fought violently among themselves just for time pass. Black eyes and broken bones were daily routine. The air was always thick with the smell of human sweat, blood and urine. I could do with the little bit of peace I could siege.

*****

A cockroach had come out from the hidden crack in the wall. I didn’t even flinch when I felt it climbing my sweaty body nor did I do anything to brush it off. No matter what time of the day it was, it was incredibly hot all the time. But that was okay. It was long ago that I had learnt to tone down my stimulants to these inseparable parts of my life in an American prison.

Life! Ha! It was funny that I still had the illusion of life. They called me zombie. I guess they were right.

After all now I could only vaguely remember the shock I felt when I found Dominique’s body on the floor of her den; legs twisted at odd angles she lay wide eyed in a pool of blood. I had little recollection of the pain that washed me afterwards or later when the Bobbies had pushed me face down to the floor with a knee firmly placed at the root of my spine. Or even the feeling of disbelief when the judge had found me guilty of Dominique’s murder. The only feeling that still throbbed inside me was of a terrible loss. Sometimes it got so worse that I felt like an iron punch was knocking all the air out of me. But even it was not so much that I displayed any unusual violent behaviour like most of the other inmates did. Most of the times I just kept to myself, doing nothing. So I guess it was true; there wasn’t much life left in me.

But during those rare times when I managed to fall asleep just from the exhaustion of staying awake for too long, I had nightmares of Dominique, invariably telling me that I failed her terribly with hatred in her eyes. On these occasions I woke up, bathed in cold sweat; a rage so blind flowed through my veins, followed by an overwhelming sense of helplessness. On these days I punched the prison walls, with as much force as I could summon to my needle tracked arms.

I instinctively rubbed my fingers over the tattoo on my left forearm. It was of a wild rose and two hearts. ‘Dominique’ was inked on one heart while the other said ‘Bruce’. Dominique made me get it to cover the needle tracks I got from mainlining the Heroine through my veins. It was cheesy. But I treasured it. It was my only physical reminder that once she was mine. She took me to the rehab. She tried to give me a new life or at least the dream of it. And I failed her.

The people who killed her so brutally roamed free on the streets and I sat here impotent in a closed cell doing nothing. The only man she could count on in the cruel world didn’t do anything to avenge her murder.

Oh! Why now? Why suddenly with just two days to go this horrible helplessness chose to haunt me now? It had long before ceased to torment me in my wakefulness.

My whole body wrung with hyper awareness of the cockroach still on my body as I got up from the bed. I slapped hard on my thigh, crushing the cockroach on the spot. The cockroach was a bigger loser than I was. I kicked the wall hard. Some loose plaster came off. I kicked again. I kept kicking and punching the wall, not caring the mess of my bloody knuckles, until suddenly a ray of light fell on the exact spot where the cockroach lay dead. It was coming from the wall. What in the name of Christ?

II

I peered through the place the light ray seemed to radiate. I couldn’t believe – my punching and kicking seemed to have loosened a brick a little above my ankle, wait, the cement didn’t seem too old. Did I accidentally discover a message passing hole? This jail has been the home for many influential criminals. And they always had whatever they needed smuggled right inside through “windows”. Was it any of those windows? I slowly removed the brick.

Ah! The sunlight. It almost blinded me. I had to blink several times to get my eyesight adjusted. I kneeled down to take a look. The “window” of the cell opened right on the jail backyard where prisoners tanned leather. I could see the electric fence and the guards far away. But then my vision was blocked by a massive black back, which I had no difficulty in identifying; Billy, the brawler, had to choose this precise moment to come and block my view and fill my nostrils with the foul odour of him, familiarity to which brought me shivers. Last time when I was full with this smell and worse, he was raping me in the showers.

Billy, the brawler was a bulky black man with a ridiculously small round head, resembling a small barren coconut. They said he was a boxer. He got his name apparently from the ugly fights he fought inside the ring which got him banished from the circuit after he broke an opponent’s neck. The only alternate profession he could choose was armed robbery of banks which was precisely the reason he came here in the Arlington prison. But now he faced charges of attempted murder of two inmates whom he stabbed with a sharpened pencil.

He was the indisputable gangman of the prison. Inmates worshiped him. As if they had any choice. They said, Billy was here only because he liked it here. He would leave the day he would want. Ha! If only it was that easy.  

I didn't sit well with him from the very first time for some reason. He called me blue eyed limey, given that my eyes were blue and I was a British. While the other inmates found me funny and left me be, he continuously provoked me by saying lewd jokes about my girl. One of my initial days when I was still getting used to bathing with ten different men in the same shower, he had grabbed me from behind.

“Feeling shy. Are ya?” he had said as his stench filled my senses. He had pushed me against the floor, pinning my legs firmly against the floor with his stout knees. Someone, one of his alleys, had held my both arms up. One of his large hands had held my head in place so that I was breathing the grime of the floor and his other hand had yanked open the orange jail trousers which I still had on. Soon I had felt an excruciating pain that was beyond hell.

My body tore open under that filthy grit. I wanted to kill him.

But my pain was nothing compared to Dominique’s when her chest was tore open from the bullet.

Ohh! It hurt.

But not more than it hurt her when her murderer broke her legs. She died for me. I was the reason she was murdered.

Maybe I deserved it. I deserved every bit of it. And then I had fainted.

I had found myself in the hospital bed when I had woken up.

*****

“Are ya sure? Darantino is back in town? This ain’t better be like last time.” Billy’s gruffly voice pulled me back into reality from the unpleasant memory. He now stood leaning on the wall for I could only see his back and the other person he spoke to remained out of my view.

But whatever I heard was enough to hold my attention. Darantino wasn’t a common name, was there a chance that it was the same person with whom Dominique worked in the strip club? I listened on.

“I can betcha my head, I saw him in the hood. Ain’t sure about the benjamins.” The other voice spoke.

“Aight. Get the cavity ready. If Billy can find Darantino, he can find the bejamins. What bout the whore?” Billy said.

“Ain’t seen her. Maybe hanging som’ere. Maybe she’s got all the loot.” The voice said.

“How long we got? How long he’d hang in the hood?” Billy said.

“Ain’t got no idea. He may have come on business. You gotta hurry.” The voice said.

“Aight. How long to get the cavity ready?” Billy asked.

“Ain’t not possible before tomorrow.” The voice said.

“Hmmph. That son of a b1tch. He gonna get his due for double crossing Billy.” Billy hissed.

“Sorry Billy. But you been foolish. I ain’t see no reason to trust Darantino. Keeping all the cash with him.” The invisible man said.

“No! Cash was with the whore. We kept the money with the whore. She said she’ll keep it safe ‘cause she needed few hundreds of benjamins out of it to treat her boyfriend. He got AIDS.” Billy sniggered loudly, “treatment of AIDS! Some cracked woman she was! I tell ya!”

“What a fool you been Billy! Dincha see they were making you fool?” the other voice was telling.

But nothing entered my ears. What I heard was enough to make my whole body feel like I was dipped into a pool of hot lava. My whole body burned and writhed in a pain I knew no word to describe. I was afraid my skin would dissolve in the heat. Suddenly the distant memory of my last days with Dominique was vivid in front of my eyes. It was as clear and detached as if I was watching the whole thing happening in a movie.

*****

Those days after coming back from the rehab I was in a desperate need of money. I had already screwed my navy career because of my addiction. My blood always boiled when I saw those glassy eyed people on whose faces Dominique danced in flimsy lingerie and sometime shared the bed with for some extra money. But this was the first time I wanted to do something about it. I wanted to take my girl away from this filth and start our lives all over.

I had signed up for a sperm donation program just for some easy cash till I found something more permanent. But the medical tests’ results devastated me. I was HIV positive. I was not entirely surprised given the reckless lifestyle I had been leading till Dominique came along.

My worry was Dominique. As a professional stripper she was trained to have safe sex, and the club got them checked up regularly, but I would not be able to forgive myself if I somehow gave it to her.

As expected she broke down when I broke the news to her. She refused to get herself checked. Said she didn’t care. But I wasn’t resting till I was satisfied.

Once I relaxed after her negative test results, she became hyper active. She became hooked to the internet reading articles after articles and then one day she came to me and said that she found a place where they treated AIDS victims. I too, like Billy, had laughed at first. But her enthusiasm was infectious. So much so, that it lit a tiny spark of hope inside me. But we needed money for that. Lots of money.

I knew Dominique was planning something with Darantino Noam - a bartender in the club she worked. And I had vague idea of it being illegal. But in my desperation I ignored it. After all, I was no saint. I had also done many illegal things to keep my supply of drug intact. If it was illegal, it was for a good cause now. I let Dominique go ahead with whatever she was planning after she assured she was not directly involved. I let Dominique die for me.

The whole thing was clear now to me. Billy and Darantino, I didn’t care how they knew each other, had robbed this bank and Dominique had agreed to keep the looted money till the air cooled. Then Darantino double crossed Billy and Dominique, got one arrested and killed the other.

 

III

I was shocked to see that the life’s surprises were not over for me. Why otherwise with just two days to go for my death, would I discover the most shocking truth of my life – that the person I loved most and the person I hated most, were both betrayed by the same person. Though I always knew Darantino was involved in Dominique’s murder, I could not really put my finger on it. And after my sentence I was convinced that this was how it was supposed to end. And I felt responsible, because after all, I was the person for whom she got herself into such trouble.

But if the sheer turn of events in just an hour’s time was anything to indicate then my conviction was not true after all. I had a chance, finally a tiny chance to avenge my girl’s murder; to punish the criminal who crushed our dream of living a peaceful life far away. Ironically I would need Billy’s help in that. If it had to be that way, then be it.

Billy and his ally were still speaking. They carefully discussed Billy’s plan of escape, oblivious to my prying ears. Thinking hard to myself, I poked Billy’s back. Billy jumped like a wounded spring. One would expect vivacious criminals like him to have a tamed reflex.

I could tell that Billy was scared because when he found the hole in the wall and lowered his face to peer through the opening, I could clearly see that his pupils were dilated. But given that my cell was pitch dark, he could not see anything.

“Hey Billy. It’s me. The blue eyed limey.” I called out through the hole.

Billy’s face straightened. “Whaddya want? Ya wanna sing?” he sniggered. But the hint of panic was unmistakeable in his voice.

“No. Rather I want to help you. The Darantino you want to kill, is his full name Darantino Noam? Is he a bar tender?” I asked.

“Whatddya want limey? How ya know him?” Billy’s voice was cautious.

“He killed my girlfriend Billy. The girl you kept all your money with.” I decided to throw it all on his face.

“What? Ya the one she wan’ed to treat? Ya got AIDS?” Billy clearly panicked. I knew it worked.

“Yes Billy. And now mostly you got it too. Remember the shower? But I can help you. I can give you the address of the place where they treated AIDS. In return, I just want you to take me with you to Darantino and let me kill him.” I said coolly.

Billy’s expression hardened. “Ya turd of misery! Playing games with Billy eh! Ain’t tomorrow your last day? Ya wanna fool Billy to get out before that?” he hissed.

“Billy. Do you remember the girl’s name?” I asked.

“Yah! Fucking stylish name for a whore, Dominique.” He sniggered. Then abruptly stopped.

I had thrust my hand out in Billy’s view.  “I ain’t got no idea, how to get ya out.” Billy said.

“I can help.” Said the man who was invisible till now. As he came into view, I realized with a soaring heart that God indeed wanted me out. Because he was Rob. The guard who secured my corridor. They said Billy had a guard boyfriend. So it was true.

IV

I waited the whole day and night and the day again, aware of my each breath, counting every second. My muscles had reached their capacity of being tensed so now they slacked. What if Billy double crossed me? What if he told the Bobbies everything? But then, what did I have to lose? I was already a dead man.

As the night matured, Rob entered my cell. Like any other day, he was the only one on duty. Since I was the lone inmate of the low stimuli corridor nobody cared. I hit Rob, tied him, took his uniform and key, closed the cell door and came out. “Slow limey! Tie tight.” Rob had said when my hands were failing me.

I had exactly 5 minutes to make it to the dump yard which overlooked the lake. The tunnel lay there. The guard at the entrance of the corridor didn’t give more than a side glance when I deliberately kept my pace down while crossing him. Outside the night was dark and stormy. Another good sign. The dust in the air would provide me a natural cover. I needed to cross the backyard in two minutes. A dog barked somewhere. Clenching my stomach pit, I took long strides. One of the guards siting inside the shade, near the fence, called out, “Going to meet your lover, eh? Nice romantic weather isn’t it?” I made a grunt of acknowledgement and strode on.

It was not particularly hot, but I was dripping wet with sweat when I reached the tunnel where Billy waited. After an awkward handshake we were off down the tunnel. Seconds later the mad sounds of siren told us that Rob had started banging the cell door just as per the plan. Thus on the day of my execution I fled a federal prison. Frankly, I never imagined, fleeing would be that easy. It gave me an indescribable thrill.

*****

Darantino jolted out of bed when he saw us. It was as if he saw ghosts. His face was drained of all its colour and he sweated like a pig. We were in his cabin, a tin room at the edge of the forest. I knew about it because Dominique’s colleague Clara, who OD’ed and died mysteriously, used to be Daratino’s girlfriend and had told Dominique about their steamy love making nights in the woods by this cabin. I had taken a chance, and voila, he was there. God was indeed going out of his way to get me lucky.

It was almost morning. I didn’t have much time. I took out the gun Billy gave me earlier. Darantino pleaded and cried. He offered me half the money. I closed my eyes. Dominique was serene in my head for the first time in such a long time. I opened my eyes. I pulled the trigger.

I looked at the lifeless body of Darantino with no expression. And then I laughed. Laughter bubbled from my belly making it cramped. But I kept laughing. I took revenge. It made me happy.

And then I cried. Like the laughter, my howls also erupted from my belly making it hollow. For the first time, I truly grieved for my Dominique.

Billy watched me incredulously. “Limey, don’t be crazy now. Tell Billy the place for AIDS treatment yer girlfriend wan’ed to take ya.” Billy asked urgently.

I got up. My tears had dried. It was as if fire was running through my eyes.

“AIDS can’t be treated Billy. It’s incurable.” I started laughing again.

“Ya liar! Ya cheated me!” Billy had taken out his gun.

“Didn’t you know Billy? Dominique was crazy. Crazy for me. Like I am crazy for her.” I was still guffawing kneeling on the floor.

Billy removed the safety clutch. Tears were glistening in his eyes. His finger closed against the trigger.

I pulled the trigger too.

As my eyes closed, I saw blood oozing through Billy’s chest and his knees giving in.

As I took my last breath, I was satisfied. I avenged my girl’s murder. I died in a face to face duel in which I killed my opponent.