when I revive I will call.
15
Charles Blakey
16
17
Two women wanted to see me. At least they thought 18
they wanted to. In my mind I had convinced myself that 19
it was my unavailability that piqued their interest. If I 20
dared to go out on one date, it would all be over.
21
I wanted to call both of them. I almost connected the 22
phone two or three times every day. But when the mo-23
ment came, I lost my nerve.
24
Bethany even came to the door one night. She rang and 25
knocked and called out my name. But I didn’t answer. I 26
just stood at the second-floor window at the top of the S 27
stairs and watched until she went away.
R 28
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1
Those weeks, I felt, were just a small sample of my 2
whole life up until that time — a waste. I slept and ate 3
and drank according to my own clock. I didn’t shave or 4
bathe hardly at all. I read for escape. If I was a brave man 5
I would have probably killed myself.
6
I was everything that my uncle Brent said that I was, 7
and less. Nothing ever changed and I never got any better 8
or worse.
9
But then I received Anniston Bennet’s boxes, and the 10
world I knew receded like an unfinished novel whose 11
story had become overwrought and tedious.
12
13
14
The truck that came that afternoon was unmarked 15
brown. The burly moving men had a knock that could 16
not be ignored. I came down, expecting the police or 17
maybe the fire department.
18
Both men wore green work pants and strap undershirts.
19
They were white and at least one of them bore tattoos, 20
but I think that they were both marked up with naked 21
women, knives, and hearts.
22
“We’re supposed to put this delivery in the basement,”
23
the blond and balding one said.
24
“Around the side,” I told him.
25
I was in swimming trunks and tennis shoes. We went 26
around the side and down into the cellar. The men hefted 27 S
six long flat boxes, one at a time, laying five of them on 28 R
the floor in the rudimentary pattern of a flower (one flat 104
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The Man in My Basement
box in the center and each of the other four parallel to 1
one of the sides). The sixth flat box was laid up against the 2
far wall. These boxes were very heavy. I could tell by the 3
way the men strained when carrying them.
4
After that they brought in two dozen boxes of various 5
sizes and weights. Finally they delivered a loose-leaf note-6
book that was vacuum sealed in shiny see-through plastic.
7
Upon handing me the notebook, the balding blond 8
man said, “Well, that’s it.”
9
“Do I sign something?” I asked.
10
“No signatures, no tips,” he replied.
11
They turned away and climbed out of the cellar. I suppose 12
that they got into their truck and drove back to a garage 13
somewhere in Connecticut near where Anniston Bennet 14
told me he lived. I didn’t see them out. Instead I sat on the 15
stairs of the basement and began to read my instructions.
16
I don’t remember what I was doing when the movers 17
came, but I do know I was suffering from a severe hang-18
over. That was gone as soon as I saw the first handwritten 19
page. The notebook contained about thirty of these pages.
20
The paper was unlined but the words followed an equal 21
and rigid pattern from side to side that resembled march-22
ing ants — they were so small and even in their progress.
23
the construction of the cell was the headline of 24
the first page. “open box #1, the center flat, and re-25
move the cardboard,” the sentence began. Following 26
the instructions revealed a heavy slatted piece of metal S 27
that opened into a nine foot square. The flat steel bands, R 28
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1
which were at least a quarter of an inch thick, became a 2
latticework grid. A woman might have gotten her hands 3
through one of the openings, or maybe a small-boned 4
man, but a workman could only get a few fingers through 5
one of those holes. At each angle there was a tie that the 6
book told me would fit the tough-looking little padlocks 7
that I also found in the box.
8
Box number nine held a heavy rubber mat that fit over 9
the slats. Boxes two through five were the walls of the 10
cage. These were exactly the same in design except that 11
there was, of course, no matting. Also, number five had a 12
small square opening in the front, three feet by three feet.
13
Box number twelve contained the door that was to be fit-14
ted into this space. It had conventional bars and was de-15
signed to open by lifting it kind of like a portal that some 16
people put on their back doors for pets. The roof of the 17
cell was heavy, but it had been placed in such a way that, 18
with a little oomph, I was able to push it over and on top 19
of the nine-foot-cube cage.
20
All the walls and top and bottom had loops that fitted 21
together and were designed to be held fast by the little 22
padlocks. Each of the thirty-seven padlocks had a num-23
bered key and a small brass key chain. There was a larger 24
key chain onto which fit all of the smaller keys.
25
It took a couple of hours to construct the cage, or cell, 26
as the instructions called it. The basement was large but 27 S
that structure dominated the space. The tough metal slats 28 R
gleamed as if they were brand new. I wondered what kind 106
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The Man in My Basement
of animal Bennet would bring with him that was so dan-1
gerous it had to be kept in a cage.
2
There were more instructions but I was tired. I went to 3
the house and ate some frosted cornflakes, and then, on a 4
whim, I went back to the cellar, crawled into the cage, 5
and stretched out. It was an odd sensation. I had never 6
been in jail, but I thought that this was close to the expe-7
rience of incarceration. The light around me seemed to be 8
teeming, like insects in a swamp, because of the winking 9
between the slats and spaces. The rubber was comfortable 10
enough. There was a certain reassurance to the walls’ en-11
closure. I wondered if this cage was for Anniston’s rest.
12
Maybe he was afraid that people would attack him in his 13
sleep. Maybe he just liked the walls.
14
I wasn’t aware of falling into sleep. It was a deep, deep 15
rest. The electric light moving across my face as I shifted 16
around felt like a cloudy afternoon. The silence of my cel-17
lar spoke glowingly of eternal rest.
18
But when I woke up I was disoriented. I had forgotten 19
where I was and the reality of the cell scared me. I jumped 20
to my feet, trying to find a way out. But there was none.
21
At least that’s what I thought.
22
I shouted for help, running from side to side, hitting 23