Dave Eggers
Your Fathers, Where Are They? And the Prophets, Do They Live Forever?
BUILDING 52
— I did it. You’re really here. An astronaut. Jesus.
— Who’s that?
— You probably have a headache. From the chloroform.
— What? Where am I? Where is this place? Who the fuck are you?
— You don’t recognize me?
— What? No. What is this?
— That? It’s a chain. It’s attached to that post. Don’t pull on it.
— Holy shit. Holy shit.
— I said don’t pull on it. And I have to tell you right away how sorry I am that you’re here under these circumstances.
— Who are you?
— We know each other, Kev. From way back. And I didn’t want to bring you here like this. I mean, I’d rather just grab a beer with you sometime, but you didn’t answer any of my letters and then I saw you were coming through town so— Really, don’t yank on that. You’ll mess up your leg.
— Why the fuck am I here?
— You’re here because I brought you here.
— You did this? You have me chained to a post?
— Isn’t that thing great? I don’t know if you’d call it a post. Whatever it is, it’s incredibly strong. This place came with them. This was a military base, so there are these weird fixtures here and there. That thing you’re chained to can hold ten thousand pounds, and just about every building here has one. Stop pulling on it.
— Help!
— Don’t yell. There’s no one for miles. And the ocean’s just over the hill, so between the waves and the wind you’d barely hear a cannon fire from here. But they’re not firing cannons anymore.
— Help!
— Jesus. Stop. That’s way too loud. This is all cement, man. Hear that echo?
— Help! Help!
— I figured you might yell, so if it’s going to be now, just tell me. I can’t stay here while you do that.
— Help!
— My respect for you is plummeting.
— Help! Help! Help! Hello—
— All right. Jesus Christ. I’ll be back when you’re done.
— You done?
— Fuck you.
— You know, I’ve never heard you swear before. That’s one of the main things I remember about you, that you never swore. You were such a serious guy, so precise and careful and upstanding. And with the crew cut and those short-sleeve button-downs, you were such a throwback. I guess you have to be if you want to be an astronaut — you have to be that kind of tidy. Have that kind of purity.
— I don’t know you.
— What? Yes you do. You don’t remember?
— No. I don’t know anyone like you.
— Stop. Just think about it. Who am I?
— No.
— You’re chained to a post. You might as well guess. How do we know each other?
— Fuck you.
— No.
— Help!
— Don’t. Can’t you hear how loud it is in here? You hear the echo?
— Help! Help!
— I’m so disappointed in you, Kev.
— Help! Help! Help!
— Okay. I’m leaving till you get your shit together.
— Now are you done? It’s cold out there at night. The wind comes up the bluff and the Pacific— I don’t know. It gets bitter. With the sun out it’s almost balmy, but when it drops it gets arctic quick. You must be hoarse. You want some water?
—
— I’ll just leave this bottle here. Drink it when you want. That’s why I left your left hand free. We’ll be here awhile, so just know I’ll make sure you eat and have whatever else you need. I have some blankets in the van, too.
— How’d you get me here? Were you the guy moving that couch?
— That was me. I saw that trick in a movie. I can’t believe it worked. You helped me move the couch into the van, and I tased you, then I used some chloroform and drove you here. You want to hear the whole thing? It’s pretty incredible.
— No.
— You can’t really park very close to this building we’re in, so I dragged you out of the van onto that cart there — you can see it outside. It was already here, and it works perfectly. I could push an elephant on that thing. So I got you onto that cart, then I pulled you a quarter mile from the parking lot to this building. To be honest, I’m still just dazed thinking that all this worked. You’ve got me by, what, thirty pounds, and you’re definitely in better shape than I could ever be. But still it worked. You’re a fucking astronaut and now I have you here. This is a great day.
— You’re nuts.
— No, no. I’m not. First of all, I’m sorry. I never thought I’d do something like this, but everything lately made it necessary. I’ve never hurt anyone in my life, and I won’t hurt you. I would never harm you, Kev. I want you to understand that. So you don’t need to struggle or anything. I’ll let you go tomorrow after we talk for a while.
— You’re really fucking nuts.
— I’m really not. Really. I want you to stop saying that, because I’m not. I’m a moral man and I’m a principled man.
— Fuck you.
— Stop saying that, too. I don’t like you when you swear. Let’s get back to remembering me. Do you?
— No.
— Kev, stop. Just look at me. The sooner we get through all this, the sooner I can let you go.
— You let me go and I’ll kill you.
— Hey. Hey. Why would you say that? That doesn’t make any sense. You just set yourself back hours. Maybe more. I was planning to let you go later on tonight. Maybe tomorrow at the latest. But now you’ve got me scared. I didn’t picture you as a violent type. Jesus, Kev, you’re an astronaut! You shouldn’t be going around threatening people.
— You’ve got me chained to a post.
— Still. What I did to you was methodical and nonviolent. It was a means to an end. I wanted to talk to you, and you haven’t answered my letters, so I didn’t think I had a choice. I really do apologize for having to do it this way. I’ve been in a strange place lately. I was getting these migraines, I couldn’t sleep. Holy shit, the pressure! The questions were piling up and were strangling me at night. Have you ever had that, where you’re lying there, and the questions are just these asps wrapping themselves around your throat?
— You are so fucking nuts.
— You know what, Kev? I’m not. But I have to say, right when I said asps I knew it was a mistake. Someone like you hears that word, the specificity of it, and you think I’m some obsessive weirdo.
— But you’re not.
— See, the sarcasm, too. That’s new. I remember you being so sincere. I privately admired that. I don’t like this new edge. Now listen, I think you can tell I have my faculties together.
— Even though you kidnapped me and brought me here.
— Exactly because I brought you here — successfully. I made a plan, executed it, and I brought an astronaut to an abandoned military base one hundred and ten miles away from where I abducted you. That makes me a pretty competent person, correct?
—
— Kev. You work for the government, right?
— I work for NASA.
— Which is a government agency. And every day the government is bringing some enemy combatant to some undisclosed location to interrogate them, right? So what’s wrong with me doing the same thing?
— So I’m an enemy combatant.
— No. Maybe that was a poor comparison.
— Buddy, you’ll be in prison the rest of your life.
— I don’t think so. Only dumb people get caught.
— And you’re a brilliant criminal mastermind.