“Hell is other people.”
– Jean-Paul Sartre
Robert DeSantis woke up the next morning in a room that reminded him of his first apartment after dropping out of college. It had white plaster walls with cracks, some faint- some not so faint, here and there. An window air conditioning unit buzzed as it worked to keep the slightly weathered white chamber cool and dry. He had spent the night in a pillow top bed, watching old cable TV shows on DVD before finally giving in to the overtures of sleep.
Robert tried the door to the apartment. It was locked. What the fuck.
Just then, the red light on the apartment’s phone began to light up, followed a few seconds later by ringing. Robert?, asked the voice on the other end.
Why the fuck is my apartment locked, Le Fevre?
Mister DeSa… Robert. I told you last night that we were under an aler…
I know all about your alerts, the governement’s alerts, the militia’s alerts. All of you mothers are one and the same. I don’t want to spend another minute being detained. I want out.
I’ll be right there.
It was a response that convinced Robert that Sargent Le Fevre was either very courteous or very determined to come up to the apartment and strangle him. About two or three minutes later, Robert heard the sound of a fumbling metal keys and then the chamber of the door’s lock being turned and disengaged. Le Fevre entered the apartment looking like a man who had just been yelled at in front of his friends by his girlfriend or mother. Motherfucker, thought Robert.
Standing in front of Robert stood Sargent Le Fevre, one in a long line of teachers, guidance counselors, social workers, probation officers, college professors, cops, judges and district attorneys who tried to get Robert to do something. For them. Because. More specifically, because of degree, job title or some other reason that held no concern for Robert.
This was once an office. I hope our renovations have made it more comfortable for you.
I appreciate it, Robert answered as if he was mandated to say so.
The trial is today, stated Sargent Le Fevre, rather matter of factly. I made sure to expedite the trial according to your need to ah, see to your own security outside of our facilities. Robert could see that the Sargent wanted no part of someone who didn’t believe in his revolution or his philosophy. That was the true fear of the officeholder, the academic and the ideologue, someone who isn’t apathetic and yet doesn’t give a fuck.