Escaping J Ward, The Belly of the Beast

Hudson is a San Francisco style man, circa 1990’s. He is slender and dapper, slightly eccentric, more than a bit enigmatic. He wears his hair California long and blond for the same reason he wears expensive tailormade business suits with handmade ostrich skin cowboy boots – to maintain his individualism in a hive culture. Contemporary society, the endless codependent cycle of neurological synapsis precariously synchronized by love and desire, hate and fear, is very possessive of attention. From Hudson’s peculiar and perhaps paranoid perspective, he ascertains a group of cabalistic, unspeakable, and very powerful ivory-tower global-control focused elites are conspiring to morph all of mankind into the same small set of human-automata ostensibly slightly personalized, varying only by subtle shades of ignoramus. A limited inventory of human individualities are easier to keep track of. The less individuality available, the less free-thinking that occurs. A human population that looks, acts, and thinks alike is easier to satisfy on a massive scale and ultimately easier to control.

Being purposefully independent and contrary empowers Hudson. But he and the others like him, few and far between, must be careful not to attract the wrong kind of attention or too much of the right kind. The controlling forces, those powerful elites, are quite possessive, making survival even more problematic for folks like Hudson. Remarkably, those same elites randomly and not too often reward the free-thinking contrarian individuals like Hudson with opportunity and positive reinforcement through wealth and celebrity. In Hudson’s world, pursuing and achieving success without drawing too much attention is a fine line but a challenge accepted nonetheless.

Feeling apart and away from the herd is an advantage for the individual. Antithetical nature should be the rule but it’s not conducive to surrendering control. The regular, everyday normal riffraff of humanity has been brainwashed into believing they will never be any different than a slight variant in shading and should settle for unexceptional. Hudson’s friends, family, and anybody who meets him clearly see he doesn’t fit in or belong in the herd. But none of them, not even Hudson, can quite put their finger on why this is. His grandmother would say that Hudson just “turned out different”. But why? Maybe it was the unique way he was raised on his grandfather’s horse and cattle ranch that makes Hudson different? But then why is his sister so human-automata? Or maybe it’s just chemistry? Something in his unique experiences combined with his accumulated knowledge and individual biological ingredients brewed up a chemical reaction that resulted in extreme cynicism.

Maybe it’s a God thing?

Hudson parks his car in the parking lot of a swank fitness gym. This particular gym is a long drive from his home in the hills of Piedmont above Oakland, but it has volleyball courts. Wearing Adidas basketball shorts and tank with very scuffed Nike Air Max 90 sneakers, he climbs out of his red 1987 Porsche 911 Turbo Targa Whale Tail Slant Nose – rare and the envy of all his friends. The California evening air is warm and soft. He breathes it in for a minute or two. Hudson is only in his mid-30’s but already has enjoyed an unusually successful career in Silicon Valley technology. No one, except those like he who have lived it, know what he had to go through to achieve this level of success in this valley of hell; just how much this life of enjoyment has cost him.

A privileged life of extreme pleasure indeed, but one that is fast coming to a halt. An orchestrated halt.

Hudson is determined to tear his life apart, pull out all the good parts, and rebuild it. His friends would advise him to hold off doing anything irrational or making any big decisions considering the odd set of events that had occurred the last year. It’s true that demonstrably frightening things have recently happened in Hudson’s life in full view of his closest friends and family. But it was those unexplainable and awful events that prompted his irrational and urgent feeling to remodel his life. He’s not telling anybody what he is doing. He wants to start over but he’s not sure what the means or why. All he knows, is that the first thing he must do is make a very amicable escape from his handlers in Silicon Valley. He has considered just running off and hiding, but he’d rather not burn all the bridges nor have to look over his shoulder the rest of his life. With careful consideration, he can take some time and figure out the options, develop an initiative, and implement the plan. The difficulty is in figuring out what life expects from him right now to achieve peace, or whatever it is he is looking for, then find a way to be accommodating without too much personal sacrifice or rocking the boats of others.

And be happy at the same time.

He used to be happy. He felt like he was very happy. He was even grateful to “the universe” for his happiness. In fact, he took happiness for granted. Until everything started getting very weird. Hudson can’t explain what caused the series of strange events, but collectively the experiences very quickly changed his worldview dramatically. How could they not? Things he used to enjoy now seemed mundane and pointless. For example, a typical event he thoroughly enjoyed almost like a hobby was going out to a fancy dinner with associates. The cost made fine dining exclusive, and it afforded him extravagant physical pleasures that often included sexual orgasms after dinner depending on who was in attendance – boring to him now.  And things he never even considered before now seemed important.

Like figuring out the meaning of life. Gah! He can’t believe this is happening to him!

He pushes through the gym doors. There are nine volleyball courts set up inside.

The only constant in his life is volleyball. Throughout all of this, nothing on the courts has changed. It’s the same as it always was, and it feels like salvation. As pathetic as it seems to him, volleyball is his lifeline.  Hudson played intercollegiate 3v3 volleyball during his college days at Cal Poly in the college beach town of San Luis Obispo, California and it became one of his true passions. He was very good at 3v3, or three-man, sand volleyball because in that game there are only three moves: pass, set, spike; and only three roles: passer, setter, spiker. All three team members must be experts in all three moves and in all three roles. He loves that aspect of the game – to wear all the hats and be ready in all the situations. And he liked all the three’s associated with the game – 3 team members, 3 roles, 3 moves and the match is 3 games at a max of 30 minutes each. Hudson referred to it as Tesler-Ball but nobody except hardcore physicists understood the joke. His intercollegiate team took First Place all four years he was there. The league he plays in now is six-man indoor volleyball. He refers to it as Jungle-Ball because it’s not nearly as refined as 3v3, but that doesn’t matter. Volleyball leagues are not very common so he takes whatever he can find. 

Hudson has arrived characteristically late to volleyball practice, but the team is used to it. His schedule is busy and eradicate. He’s often late, to everything. But he has never missed a single practice or match. His team, all employees of PeopleSoft where Hudson is an Executive Level Manager, is undefeated so far this season. Hudson is the star player. Everyone at PeopleSoft knows Hudson will become the next Chief Technology Officer. And all the insiders know PeopleSoft will soon be bought out by Oracle making all the PeopleSoft Executives instant multi-millionaires and some of the PeopleSoft Chief Executives instant billionaires.

But none of that matters anymore to Hudson either. His current list of lessons learned include: money tricks you into believing it can buy anything then over-promises and under-delivers; wealth is its own punishment; power is insecure; prestige is shy; and celebrity is perpetually adolescent. 

One of Hudson’s teammates, Zachery, a younger man who is short and stocky like most Software Engineers in Silicon Valley, runs over to Hudson. “Hey guy! Great to see you! We’ve been waiting.” Zachery believes staying close to Hudson and being his friend will profit him in the future. Hudson knows what Zachery is up to but he tolerates it. Most of Hudson’s “friends” do the same thing, coattail riding. Hudson and Zachery slow jog over to their court on the far side of the gym.

“We’re almost finished with your Clavicembalo.” Zachery informs him.

“My what?” Hudson asks. A while back, Zachery and his wife, Ellen, invited Hudson to dinner at their place. They told him they wanted to show him something they thought might interest him. Hudson was very curious about what they might want to show him. He hoped it wasn’t an S&M Chamber or some such thing. In Silicon Valley, you never know who has a sex dungeon in their home. Ellen was pretty enough, and rather Plain Jane. In Hudson’s sex escapades he has learned that Plain Janes are the craziest sex fiends once you get them going. Ellen might be one of those but there’s no way Hudson would consider a threesome with those two. For one thing, Hudson doesn’t have sex with other men. The few times he has were because he had to and not because he wanted to. But his curiosity was strong so, he accepted the dinner invitation and went with an open mind and a bottle of expensive cab. What they wanted to show him was very shocking, more so than a sex dungeon. What Hudson saw he couldn’t believe his eyes. It took him a minute to sort through the visuals. Zachery and Ellen have a big secret.

They hand-build harpsichords in their living room. Harpsichords? WTF?

Harpsichords are very odd by nature but who builds them in their living room? They had three in various stages of construction spread around the floor and on benches and two that were complete. Hudson knew what a harpsichord was, but he’d never really seen one up close like this. The intricate inner-workings and fine details fascinated him. Harpsichords, Hudson learned that night, sound different from pianos because instead of little hammers hitting the strings, a feather quill plucks the string like a guitar pick. When Zachery and Ellen played a few classical pieces, Hudson was so captivated that he ordered one for himself. Ellen promised to give him lessons.

“Your harpsichord. We’re almost finished with it.” Zachery explains at the volleyball courts.

“Oh. Very cool. What did you just call it?” Hudson asks.

“Clavicembalo. Another name for Harpsichord. It’s Italian. Yours should be done in another week.”

Truth be known, Hudson forgot all about it. “I’m thinking about donating it.” He says, thinking quickly.

“Donating it? Really?”

“I don’t have time to commit at learning how to play and it would be a shame for the thing, beautiful as it is, to just sit unused in my living room. I was thinking you could help me find a suitable home for it.”

Zachery is disappointed by the news but not surprised. “Sure, I know a couple of places that can definitely use it. Ellen and I will get you a list and then you can decide which one you want to give it to.”

“Sounds like a plan” Hudson says.

Two lovely young women do stretch exercises next to the court. Janis is blond and fit; Becky is red head and voluptuous but athletic for how roly-poly she is. They both nod at Hudson as he passes by. He nods back. Zachery gives the girls a nod too, but they practically ignore him.

“Did you hear the latest?” Janis quietly asks Becky.

“No. What now?” Becky replies.

“I’m not supposed to say anything, but he quit yesterday.” Janis informs her. Janis is the Executive Assistant to Dave Duffield, the company CEO. She has been Dave’s EA since before he founded PeopleSoft. She is always by his side. But work is where their relationship starts and ends. Janis does not attend any of the parties or other events that Dave and the rest of the elites at the top of the corporate ladder are required to attend in order to maintain their power and position. She is a loving wife and a nurturing mother. She is also very involved at her church. She is a good and well-paid Executive Assistant to the CEO of a top company in the high-tech industry of Silicon Valley and that’s as far as she wants her career to take her. In her position she has access to information that only a few at the top are privy to, such as Hudson’s resignation. She sees a lot of things from her desk that are company secrets. And some of those secrets she simply ignores without questioning. She maintains a blind eye because she must, otherwise she’d know things she doesn’t want to know and can never unknow – this much she does know.

“He quit?” Becky is surprised to hear the news, “Hudson Barret quit Peoplesoft? Oh my god! Wait…” She ponders this a moment, “Did he get recruited?” Becky only recently started working at PeopleSoft. She is a headhunter. She works in the HR department recruiting engineers and mid-level managers. Unlike Janis, Becky has very lofty career aspirations. She wants to get rich; to go as far up the corporate ladder as she can get and she’s willing to do whatever it takes to get there even if it means sleeping with every man she encounters along the way. And every woman too if that’s what it takes, as long as they can help her get what she wants.

“All I know is that he turned in a very short and to the point letter of resignation.”  Janis says, “Hudson is unpredictable, for sure, but nobody could have guessed this.”

“You think it has anything to do with his divorce? I met his ex-wife one time. Very pretty but very cold. Gave me the shivers even.” Becky says.

Janis chuckles. “Kira is nice once you get to know her. But she’s like Hudson – dislikes more people than she likes.”

“You think that’s why he’s resigning? Because she dumped him like that?”

Janis shrugs, “Maybe.”

“Getting dumped by a pretty girl like that would drive any guy crazy.”

“I said to him once, you know, to be polite and complement her, that he was very lucky because his wife was so lovely. And he said to me… he was serious too… he said that he didn’t love her for her beauty on the outside but for who she is on the inside.” Janis says, looking a bit dreamy.

Becky teases, “That’s the oldest line in the book! If she got into a car wreck that made her hideous, he’d dump her in a second.”

Janis ignores the comment.

Becky continues, “I wonder what happened? Wasn’t he going to be Nasca’s replacement?” She has a thought that gives her a devilish grin, “I heard Nasca didn’t want to leave but that he got caught having an affair with Duffield’s new little trophy wife. What’s her name?”

“No, no. That’s just a rumor. They’re friends is all. Nasca announced a year ago that he would be stepping down once his wife got pregnant. Well, she’s pregnant now so it’s no surprise. But Hudson resigning like that… His resignation letter basically just said ‘I Resign’. Nobody knows why exactly.”

Just then, a very fit older man named Pete walks past Becky and Janis. “Hello ladies. Hi Janis”. Janis and Pete attend the same church. Pete knows she is married but he has a crush on her. He meets up with Hudson and Zachery.

“Hi guys. You’re late again, Hudson”, Pete says. They all walk to the middle of the court.

“Sorry.” Hudson looks the team over as they do some random practice drills. Becky and Janis are passing the ball back and forth volleyball style. Everyone else is doing warmups.

“So, what do we got going?” Hudson chimes, “Should we maybe line up and work on our serves? Nobody can serve except me and Gerald.” 

“Can we talk in private?” Pete asks as he leads Hudson out of earshot from the rest of the group.

“Sorry I’m late, Pete. Traffic,” Hudson says. 

Pete leans in a says quietly, “I heard you resigned. Is it true?” 

“How did you hear?” Hudson looks over at Janis who quickly looks away.

“Is it true?”

“Yes, it’s true.” Hudson replies. “But remember, business stays outside of the gym.” A volleyball bounces to them. Hudson catches it and tosses it to Janis who still has that guilty look.

“I’m just curious. I have to ask. Why would anybody in your cushy situation resign from a top position at the fastest growing company in Silicon Valley for the last five years? And the fastest growing stock too? Did you see the numbers this morning? Gee-az. Do you know something I should know? I’ve dumped my entire savings into PeopleSoft’s future. If it tanks, then I’m--”

Hudson interrupts him, “The company, and your stock are safe, Pete. That’s not why I’m leaving.” 

“Truly? I’ve heard rumors of a hostile buyout.”

“No. No hostile buyout. Listen to me. Don’t listen to those who don’t know.”

“Then why? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s personal, okay? A long torrid story and I’ll spare you the gory details.”

“Okay, okay. Say no more. You don’t have to explain anything to me. Except why you are always late.”

They both chuckle.

“Hey, listen…” Hudson says with a serious tone, “…keep my resignation to yourself. Dave is going to make the announcement at Friday’s All-hands.”

Pete nods in agreement.

“Let’s play some volleyball. That’s why I’m here.”  Hudson says as he heads to the court.

“Technically,” Pete explains, “only employees of PeopleSoft are allowed to play on People Soft sponsored athletics. Your resignation makes you ineligible to play. Sorry, but it’s policy.”

“Policy, eh?” Hudson plays along with the tease, “darn. Volleyball is my life. And just look at all the chickadees!” Pete can’t help but look towards Janis.

“Wouldn’t be fair to the other players,” Pete breaks character and cracks a smile. 

Just then, Hudson’s pager beeps. In that high tech culture, a beeping pager takes priority over all other things. “…hold on a sec.” He checks his pager then says “That’s weird.

It’s the pastor. Where can I find a phone?” He looks around for one.

Pete says to him, “There’s one of those payphones that doesn’t take coins out in the lobby. You have to use a calling card with it. Did Pastor Grayson page you?” Pete is surprised to hear that Hudson is talking with Pastor Grayson considering he went to Pete’s church only a couple of times,

“Paster who? The page is from Paster John. From Crosswinds. I don’t have a calling card. I have an Executive Assistant but she’s not here at the moment.” 

Pete pulls his calling card out of his wallet, hands it to Hudson and says, “Oh. I thought it was Pastor Grayson and was just curious… but nevermind.” Pete says.

Hudson ignores him, stares at the numbers for a few seconds then hands the card back to Pete.

“You memorized it?” Pete is surprised, “that’s like, fifteen numbers. How…”

Hudson heads to the lobby and finds the phone.

Six months earlier…

The three-story townhouse in Lafayette, California that Hudson shares with his wife, Kira, is situated in a typical upscale bedroom community. Lafayette is a world-away from San Francisco but close enough to get there by BART without having to change trains; a sanctuary architected specifically for world-trotting financially phony yuppies to sometimes eat, sleep, entertain, and hide-away. The townhouse is built on a sloping hill. The front door is on the second floor by design. Intended for a party lifestyle the second floor has a large kitchen, large dining room, small balcony with a bay view, and overdone guest bath.  The kitchen, which Hudson and Kira seldom visit, is straight out of a Willams-Sonoma catalog. Professionally decorated with faux weathered barnwood furnishings, lots of unused hanging copper pots, chrome gadgets of unknown purpose, imported dishes on wrought iron shelves. Hudson and Kira eat out four or five times a week. When they do eat in it’s usually take-out that they picked up on the way home from the BART station. The third floor is the lavish master suite with a large balcony and hot tub; the bottom floor is guest suite, laundry room, storage room, garage etc. 

Hudson sits on the lamb skin leather couch in the living room that serves as a lobby to the dining room. He sips a tumbler of Tres Louis brandy from the bar next to the balcony doors while waiting for Kira to finish getting ready. They are going to a PeopleSoft Annual Employee Appreciation Party being held in the Museum of Natural History at Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. A very strange venue for a corporate party but PeopleSoft and it’s Friend With Benefits company, Cisco Systems, engage in a subtle competition for best company event. Young engineers getting big paychecks helped create the Party-Hearty culture in the early years of Silicon Valley. And then, naturally, evil snuck in. Evil always infiltrates where the money starts to grow and its especially successful at creating devil-worshippers when the culture is mostly young. Yuppies, the young urban professionals are easily manipulated and led into darkness by glittery creatures that want to devour them. Cisco recently rented the whole Fashion Center building in San Franisco then decorated the sixth-floor indoor courtyard like a Star Trek movie for their employee appreciation party.

To outdo Cisco’s Star Trek party, PeopleSoft rented the Museum of Natural History so that all the guests could eat a fancy dinner then wander around the halls looking at cool stuff while guzzling expensive champagne. What could go wrong?

Hudson and Kira attend a lot of Silicon Valley parties. To successfully climb the corporate ladder in the high-tech industry and secure positions such as Hudson has enjoyed means attending a lot of parties and other events. And not all of them are fun, not when the devil-worshippers are running the show.  Many of the events blatantly cross the line from party to ritual. Much of what goes on in the back rooms at those events, Hudson and Kira regret witnessing and participating in. They justify doing what they know is wrong by telling themselves that its okay because everybody does it and it’s the only way to get ahead.

PeopleSoft’s annual employee appreciation party is for all the employees and their families to enjoy so there won’t be any of the secret back-room antics. From what Hudson has learned, the more that attend the rituals the more power it affords. But with so many of the necessary but clueless employees at this event, the devil-worshippers can’t take the risk something goes wrong. It can be awkward when a naïve person you work with unknowingly stumbles into one of those backrooms and sees you doing questionable things such as performing sex acts in front of onlookers. Getting caught drinking the blood of a victim is worse than awkward.

There is a knock on the front door. Without getting up Hudson yells “You almost ready, Kira? Limo is here.”

Kira walks into the living room. As always, she looks stunning. Very long blond hair jeweled with a diamond tiara. Tight fitting long black velvet and silk evening gown. Perfect make-up. Stiletto heels. The whole nine yards. The only thing missing is her smile. Hudson doesn’t know exactly when she stopped being happy but it’s been a long time since she smiled nonstop like she used to do. He doesn’t blame her. The life they are living is not what they planned. Hudson travels a lot and is busy most of the time. Kira can’t find her place in the world. Sometimes she wants to be a mother, but she can’t imagine her and Hudson ever being settled enough to raise a child.  

“Wow.” He stands and finishes his drink. Kira opens the entry hall closet and picks a long black cashmere trench coat for him and a hooded long black silk coat for herself.  Inside the limo, Kira opens the bottle of Dom Perignon while Hudson scraps out lines of cocaine using his AmEx Centurion Card, colloquially called the Black Card, on the conveniently mirrored top of the small mini bar. Kira declines the coke and she hardly sips her champagne. It isn’t until they get halfway across the Bay Bridge before she says anything.

“Can we leave early tonight?” she asks.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Fine.”

“We can leave whenever you are ready.” He tells her, then adds, “The museum should be fun.”

“I’ve seen it before.”

“But, not like this.”

She just shrugs, looks out the window. Hudson gulps his champagne and does another line of coke.

By the time they reach Golden Gate Park, Hudson is feeling the effects of the drugs and alcohol. He doesn’t want to go to the event either. But it should be low key – just the staff having a fancy company sponsored catered dinner.

The limo drops them off in front of the museum. As soon as Hudson walks through the front doors, he gets an overwhelming urge to leave. He just stands there not knowing what to do.

“What’s wrong?” Kira asks.

“We can leave now if you want.” He tells her.

“Now? We just got here. What’s wrong with you?” Just then Ned, one of the engineers that works for Hudson, and his lovely wife, Susan, greet them.

“Hey, you two!” Ned says. Hudson does his best to shake off his bad feeling but it’s very strong. They drop off their coats with the coat check lady and walk over to where all the tables have been setup along the hallway of dioramas.

“Wow,” Susan says, “this is…”

“…kind of weird?” Ned finishes her sentence.

The food is good. People are having fun. The event is low key, like Hudson hoped. After dinner, Ned quietly approaches Hudson, “Hey, come check this out.” Ned leads Hudson to the Caveman diorama. He holds out his hand, “Take one for you and Kira.” In his palm are two small white MDMA pills.

“Molly?” Hudson takes the pills from Ned and puts them in his pocket.

“A really good batch. Wait until you get home to take it or you’ll start fucking right here in the hall.” Ned leaves to rejoin Susan at their table.

Hudson pulls the pills from his pocket, checks to make sure no one is watching, then drops them to the floor and grinds them with his shoe. He hears someone call his name. He turns and sees a caveman in the caveman diorama looking directly at him. He moves and the caveman’s eyes follow him.

“What the fuck?” Hudson says to himself. 

“Hey, asshole.” The instant Hudson hears the caveman speak, it’s like a spell is triggered. One that makes the whole world slightly skewed. Hudson feels like he is suddenly in a dream. He wonders about the cocaine. He’s concerned he took the molly without realizing it. He looks down and sees the white powder on the carpet. Or maybe this is some kind of joke being played on him. He looks around but everybody seems normal. Nobody is watching him. He looks for Kira but can’t see her.

He turns back around and sees that the caveman is still looking at him. “Oh man,” Hudson says quietly, “are you alive, guy? This is crazy! What the fuck is going on? Where’s Kira?”

“You are in a shitload of trouble, asshole.” The caveman says pointing his finger at him,

“They’re going to fuck you up.” The caveman grabs his own crotch. “And I’m going to fuck your hot wife. Yeah, she’s gonna love what I do to her. Can’t wait. Woo!”

As Hudson watches, the caveman morphs into an eight-foot tall version of one of those gargoyles that sit on the roof corners of stone churches. The gargoyle jumps out of the caveman diorama and wraps his big black leathery wings around Hudson tightly. Everything goes dark inside. Hudson is pinned in, unable to get out. Hudson struggles hard but it’s no use.  Then he feels himself freefalling.

He tries to reach out for something to grab onto but there is nothing. 

And then he feels sharp talons digging into the flesh on his back, arms, and thighs. Somehow, he can see the talons. All black and dripping with his blood. He struggles to get away from them but can’t. He starts to feel dizzy, like he is going to vomit and then everything goes silent, still, and completely dark.

When he opens his eyes, he is in a dimly lit room strapped down to a bed. He is connected to an IV. He tries to figure out where he is and what has happened but all he can remember is the gargoyle and falling. 

“Hello?!” he calls out. But nobody answers. He shouts louder, “Hello! Anybody?!

HELLO!!”

He sees a face peer in at him through the narrow window on the door. Then he hears keys unlocking the door. Why is the door locked, he wonders. A very plump nurse with greasy hair piled in a bun on top of her head walks in.

“Mr. Barret,” she says as she checks his IV, “how are you feeling this evening?”

There are no windows in the room nor clocks in the room. “What time is it?” he asks.

She looks at her wristwatch, “Almost eight.”

He thinks a moment, “Eight? How did I get here? Where am I?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” she asks.

“Uh, the party. We were at a party tonight and, um, I was looking at… oh, shit. That fucking caveman. Wait… if it’s eight o’clock then the party was... last night? How long have I been here?”

“You were transferred here from San Francisco General. You were taken to the emergency department on Friday night. Today is Sunday at…” she checks her wristwatch again, “… seven forty-nine.”

“Two days?!!” Hudson is thoroughly confused, “How did I lose two whole days? What did… where am I?”

“You are in the J ward at Merrithew Hospital Psychiatric Department.”

“Psychiatric department? What? How did I end up here?”

“You were admitted Friday night to the J ward. Your doctor will explain everything to you.”

“J ward? What is this place? A hospital?”

“The belly of the beast, my friend. You were having a very severe psychotic event when they brought you in. Do you remember any of it?”

“Not really. Let’s see… we went to the party. I got too drunk. Started hallucinating. Then woke up here.” He starts to get up, “I got to get going now. Where is my wife?”

“I don’t know about your wife. But you can’t leave until the doctor releases you.”

Hudson finally notices the restraints, “Why am I tied down like this!”

“For your and our safety. Like I said, you were quite psychotic.”

“How long do I have to stay tied up? What if I have to use the head?” That’s when he notices the unclean diaper on him, “Oh my god! Are you kidding me?!”

“I can undo the restraints so that you can get cleaned up. But only if you promise to behave.”

“I promise.”

“If you break your promise, we’ll put you right back in here and we won’t let you up again. Okay? Do you understand? No funny business.”

“Okay. Okay. I said I promise.” She unbuckles the straps that hold his shoulders, wrists and ankles down to the bed frame. “Where is the doctor? When is he going to release me?”

“Well, the doctor is a she and she’s already gone home for the night. You can see her tomorrow.”

“Wait, what? Tomorrow? I have to stay here overnight. No way! I can’t. I got shit to do. I need to get out of here asap.”

“Mr. Barret. Remember your promise. Stay calm. The doctor will see you tomorrow and explain everything. Now, are you hungry? Its too late for dinner, the kitchen is closed, but I can get you some crackers and a juice pack.”

Hudson feels himself getting very anxious. What the hell is happening? He’s in a mental ward? How’d that happen? Where is Kira? Why isn’t she here?

“Mr. Barret? Would you like some crackers and juice?”

“Yes, I would. Where can I get cleaned up?”

“Down the hall on the left. The blue door. When you are done, come right back here to this room.”

“Is there a shower?”

“You can shower tomorrow.”

Hudson gets up, sees that he is wearing only a hospital gown over the diaper and booty socks. He covers up best he can and goes looking for the bathroom. The hallway is creepy. There are manned nurse’s stations at both ends. The old women at the stations watch him like hawks. The walls are painted in industrial green. The floors are covered in very worn and peeling squares of linoleum. The florescent lights buzz and flicker and the whole place smells like Pine Sol and urine. As he walks past the day room, he sees an armed security guard watching television. The guard sees him and gives him a stern look. He finds the bathroom, drops the nasty diaper in the garbage can and takes a much-needed grizzly shit. When he’s done shitting, he cleans up as best he can with just powdered soap and paper towels. He hears a knock on the door. The nurse hands him a clean gown and socks. And thankfully a pair of pajama bottoms that are 4 sizes too big.

On his way back to his room, which he realizes now is a cell, he sees the security guard leaning in the doorway of the day room.

“Hey,” the guard says to him, “the nurse said to give you this.” He hands Hudson a paper bag with some peanut butter crackers, a breakfast bar, and a packet of grape juice. “You can sit in here and eat, if you want.”

“Sure. Thanks.” Hudson says. He goes into the day room and sits down at one of the tables, “Whatcha watching?” he tries to make conversation out of habit.

The guard answers without looking up, “John Wayne flick, Rio Lobos.”

“I’ve seen it,” the guard doesn’t respond, “How long have you worked here?”

“Not long.” the guard says still not looking up. Obviously, he doesn’t want to talk with a patient. The guard gets up and walks over to the water fountain and fills a thermos. While he is doing that, he notices a small tear in the finger of his latex gloves. “Shit” he says, “um, can I trust you to sit right here and not move? I gotta go get a fresh pair of gloves. It’ll only take two jiffies.” He removes his old gloves.

“Sure,” Hudson says, “of course. Where am I going to go?” Hudson notices the Harley-Davidson Wings tattooed on the back of the guard’s right hand.

“I’m supposed to lock you in your room so that you don’t go raping anybody.”

“What? In here?”

“You’d be surprised what goes on. Most of these crazy gals ready to fuck anyone and everyone. Always be pulling their pants down showing me the snatch. Stay right here, I’ll be right back,” The guard hurries off. Hudson wonders if he is missing a good opportunity for escape. The guard returns very quickly with fresh gloves.

“You ride?” Hudson asks.

The guard piques up, “I sure do. You?”

“Heritage. Eighty-seven. Fully customized.”

“Cherry bike. My wife and I bought a cruiser last year. Best thing we ever done for our marriage, if you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean. Sitting back there on that vibrating bitch seat with her legs spread tends to get my wife in the mood too. Unfortunately, she won’t ride every day.” They both chuckle. The guard relaxes and picks up the previous conversation.

“I’ve been working at this facility for almost 10 years now, but I’ve been here in the J ward for three weeks. I’ll be here for three more weeks then they’ll rotate me out for the rest of the year.  They like to rotate all of us in and out of this ward because it can get too stressful.”

“Lot’s of crazies in here, eh?”

“Batshit crazy, all of them,” the guard realizes he’s talking to a patient, “Oh, I don’t mean you. You don’t seem batshit crazy. I saw you come in the other night. You were definitely going nuts. I assume you did some good drugs that night?”

“Duh.”

“What were you on? LSD?”

“No, not LSD. Cocaine and lots of Dom.”

“Dom. What is Dom?”

“Expensive champagne. I might have taken some ecstasy too, but I can’t remember.”

“Like me, you like to party.”

“I do. It’s practically part of my job description.”

“Where to I apply for that job?” the guard jokes.

“Trust me, the application process is… um, let’s just say it’s not worth all the Dom in the world.”

“Okay,” the guard wonders, “What exactly do you do?”

“I’m VP of Engineering for a large Enterprise Resource Management development company.”

“I don’t even know what that is. Sounds impressive though. No wonder they made a big to-do about you.”

“What do you mean?”

The guard looks around double-checking that they are alone then he leans forward, “You realize that 90% of the patients in here don’t have insurance, right? And this place is always over-budget. Then here you walk in… well, not exactly walked in… but here you are with more insurance than anybody ever needs. They’ll keep you here as long as they can just to bleed out your insurance. Once it runs out, they cut you loose that very day.”

“Really? Shit. What happens if my insurance never runs out. I got a lot of very good insurance.”

“That sucks, brother. Means you are in here for the duration. Be careful. Do everything they tell you to do. See, the longest they can keep you in here without a judge’s order is 72 hours. To get around that, all they got to do is make one phone call, right? And just like that,” he snaps his fingers, “they got a judge’s order to keep you for two weeks of observation.” The guard does the air quotes the word observation.

“Really? You mean I’m stuck here for two weeks? No fucking way. I have great attorneys.”

The guard continues, “Lawyers can’t do shit. What they’ll do is stress you out, right? Keep stressing you, keep stressing you… sooner or later you’ll have an episode,” he does the air quotes again, “then they’ll put you on Thorazine or Haldol and then you’re here until the insurance runs dry. In your case, that could be months. Years even.”

“Fuck. What’s the easiest way to escape from here?”

“See? That’s not going to help you. Technically, I’m supposed to report to them that you are thinking about escaping and they’ll use it against you when you go to your release hearing.”

“Oh, come on. I was just joking around. I’m not looking to escape.”

“I know. But some of the other staff might think you are serious so be careful what you say. It’s best not to joke. No sense of humor around here. Hello-o? It’s an insane asylum.”

“Gotcha. What is a release hearing?”

“Kind of like a probation hearing. Ever been to one of those?”

“Uh, no. Can’t say I have.”

Just then the plump nurse walks in and the guard instantly turns his attention away from Hudson and back at the movie. The nurse sees that Hudson has only nibbled at the breakfast bar. “Not hungry? Breakfast is served at 7am. You should be okay until then. Let’s go.” She leads him back to his cell and locks the door behind her when she leaves. He sees the bedpan on the floor next to the bed.

“A bedpan. Great. How in the fuck did I wind up in here?”

The following morning at 7:45am the door to his cell opens up. The same guard from the night before walks in carrying Hudson’s breakfast tray. He sets the tray down on the bed cart.

“You still here?” Hudson asks.

“I’m off in fifteen. Wanted to bring you this personally.” The guard looks around to make sure no one is listening even though there is no one in the room. “Hey, don’t say anything about what I told you last night, okay? It could get me in trouble.”

“You mean about the insurance and stuff? No problem. Just between you and I. And thanks for letting me know.”

The guard points to a handbook titled “Patient’s Rights” and a tattered old copy of a National Geographic that he put on the tray. “I suggest that you read this pamphlet pronto, right? Then read every single word of this magazine from cover to cover. When you finish reading it, read it again. It will help you stay calm and sane… well, as sane as one can be in here… while they try to stress you out like we talked about last night. And something else…” the guard leans in closer and practically whispers, “I don’t know what is going on, but I took a look at your chart when Nurse Ratchet out there wasn’t looking. The toxicology report says you were clean and drug-free. Like I said, I saw you when they brought you in here and you were definitely high as a kite.” The guard backs away and says, “when you are done with your breakfast then take your tray to the dining room. You’ll see the bin.” He heads out then turns and says “Good luck to you, Mr. Barret. I have a few days off but when I get back, I’ll check in on you.”

“Hey man, thanks for everything. I’ll look you up when I get out of here and take you and a guest to my favorite restaurant in Tahoe for dinner.”

“I love Tahoe! Never skied before but I do enjoy the slot machines. Stay sane.” The guard leaves.

Breakfast is two pieces of very greasy bacon, a dallop of yellow mush presumed to be scrambled eggs, a dallop of brown mush presumed to be potatoes, and a dallop of thick gray mush presumed to be oatmeal. There is also very weak coffee and a small plastic cup of orange juice. Hudson eats what he can as he reads through the pamphlet. He learns that he is supposed to be seen by a psychiatrist within 24 hours of being admitted. He also learns that he can request his own clothes and does not have to wear the hospital gown.

This is good news. He feels very susceptible in just a hospital gown.

He hides the pamphlet and National Geographic under the mattress. He ties the gown and pajama bottoms together so that his ass doesn’t show and picks up the tray to go out and find the dining room. He sees a lot of commotion around the corner from the nurse’s station so he figures it must be the dining room, and he is correct. All the patients look drugged up and haggardly. Hardly any of them notice him because most of them are stuck in their own strange realities. He sees the dirty tray bin and puts his tray inside. Then he walks over to the nurse’s station to request his own clothes. At first the nurse who is sitting at the station just ignores him while filling out some paperwork.

“Excuse me?” he says, tapping his fingers on the counter. He sees the name tag. “Shelly? I’m sorry to bother you but can you help me, please?”

Shelly puts down her paperwork, “What can I do for you, Mr. Barret?”

“You know my name?” She doesn’t respond, “I’d like my own clothes, please.” 

Shelly just stares at him without saying anything. He continues, “I understand that I have a right to wear my own clothes. So, I would like my own clothes, please. This gown is just so revealing, I worry my dance card might fill up too soon.” He was hoping she’d appreciate his humor, she does not. 

“I can get them for you after the morning meds.”

“Oh. I was hoping I could get them now.”

“Mr. Barret, you are not giving orders here.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to give anybody orders. I just want my own clothes. I have the right.”

“Like I just said, I will get them for you after I am finished giving all the patients their morning meds. That’s the best I can do. You’ll just have to be patient and wait. Can you do that?”

“Yes. Of course. I’ll wait patiently. Thank you.”

“Is there anything else, Mr. Barret?”

“Actually, there is. I also understand that I am to be seen by a psychiatrist within the first 24 hours. It’s been two days and I haven’t seen one yet.”

“That is not at all true. You have only been here approximately thirty hours. And you were seen by Dr. Wrangle the first morning you arrived.”

“I was? I don’t remember. What did he say?”

“I don’t know what she said. That’s between you and her.”

“But I don’t remember seeing her. Can I see her again? Today?”

“It’s not our problem if you don’t remember. We remember. If you want to request a doctor’s visit then I can put that in for you. But right now, you are under observation so be patient.”

“Yes, please put in the request for me. How long will I be under observation?”

“You can discuss that with your doctor.”

“Okay. When is my appointment?”

“We don’t do appointments. I put in the request on your behalf. When the doctor is here then if she has time she’ll stop by and see you.”

“Today?”

“Probably not.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“Mr. Barret, I need you to calm down. I’ve already answered all your questions. I’ll get you your clothes as soon as I am able and the doctor will come see you as soon as she is able. Is there anything more I can do for you?”

Hudson realizes that the guard gave him good advice. They are trying to stress him out. He needs to go back to his room and be patient. Reading the National Geographic cover to cover is a good idea. It will help pass the time and keep him calm. Plus, he might learn something interesting. 

“Okay, thank you . You’ve been very kind.” He heads back to his room, pulls out the pamphlet and National Geographic and begins reading the magazine cover to cover. Three hours later, around 11am, Shelly comes into his room carrying his clothes. She tosses them on the bed then turns and leaves without saying anything. All she brought him were the trousers without the belt, the shirt, the pair of socks and shoes without the laces. He quickly dresses.

“This is so weird,” he says to himself, “wearing half a tuxedo in the insane asylum. Who’s going to believe me?” He folds the magazine and shoves into the back of his pants so that no one steals it. Then he wanders out to the day room where he saw a pay phone. As he passes by the patients who are drooling in the day room, one of them says “Hey man!

Where’d you get them fancy duds?”

“They gave them to me when I got here,” Hudson tells him, “Didn’t you get yours?”

“Those goddamned sons-a-bitches cheatin’ me again!” He gets up and stumbles out apparently to demand his tuxedo.  

Hudson finds the phone booth which is an actual phone booth but without the doors. He tries to make a collect-call to his house but all he gets is the voicemail. He can’t leave a message for Kira without someone accepting the charges. Next, he makes a collect-call to one of his two older sisters, Marcy. Her husband, Thomas, answers and accepts the call.

“Thomas, its me, Hudson”

“I know. What’s up? Why are you making collect calls? Marcy’s out shopping.”

“I guess you haven’t heard then.”

“Heard what?”

“Has Kira contacted anyone?”

“Not to my knowledge. What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

Hudson explains the situation as succinctly as he can. He asks Thomas to get ahold of Kira and his attorney, and to head for his place in Lafayette with Marcy and his mother if possible to help him get released.

“I’m going to need help getting out of here. My attorney’s name is Marc Sirota. I don’t know his number off hand, but you can look him up. Give him a call and ask what we need to do. I’ll get you guys a cabin in Tahoe for the weekend when this is all over.”

Just then, a nurse walks up. Her name tag says Pat. “Mr. Barret, I need you to come with me.” 

Hudson hangs up with Thomas thinking that he is going to finally get to see the doctor. Pat leads him to the hallway where his room is.

“You see that yellow line?” She points to a yellow line that is painted across the floor in the hallway, “you are to stay on this side of that line. Do not cross the line. Do you understand?”

“Why can’t I cross the line?” Hudson asks.

“Are you going to be difficult?” Pat asks.

“No. I’m just wondering why I can’t cross the yellow line. That’s all.”

“Because we said so. That’s why.” She then turns and leaves.

Hudson walks to far side of the hallways and sits down on the filthy floor to continue reading the National Geographic cover to cover. At around 1pm, Pat brings Hudson a lunch tray that looks a lot like the breakfast tray – three blobs of what resembles spaghetti, green beans, and coleslaw. She sees the National Geographic.

“Where’d you get that?”

“The magazine? I found it in the day room.”

Then Pat takes the National Geographic and says “This is not to leave the day room. When it does, it’s considered contraband. You are not allowed to possess it. I’ll have to write a report.” Then she turns to leave.

“When do I get to see the doctor?”

“Maybe tomorrow”.

“Tomorrow? What the fuck do you mean tomorrow?”

“Mr. Barret, watch your language, please.” She walks away.

Hudson realizes that he is in big trouble. They really are trying to keep him there against his will like the security guard said, no longer any doubt about that. Whatever happens, he cannot allow them to give him any drugs. He’ll have to be persevering and Zen-like. If he’s going to outlast them then he must become a peaceful warrior. He sits back down and thinks of his grandmother. The two of them used to be very close when he was growing up on his grandfather’s horse and cattle ranch.  She used to take him to church every Sunday morning for services and sometimes on Wednesday nights for bible study. He decides he needs to turn his life around. All those parties he and Kira go to are punching holes right through their souls. He’s known this all along, that the decisions he makes and the temptations he gives into are making him, and her, as hell bound as a demon. But to get the kind of wealth and position he and Kira desire then the satanic rituals he participates in are required. If his grandmother knew what he did at some of those rituals it would kill her. And if it didn’t kill her, then she’d probably want to kill him. It’s that bad. 

He bows his head, “Please God, it’s been so long, maybe too long, but I need help. You already know this. Is it too late for me?”

Just then he notices a young woman in a white lab coat exiting a patient room. He deduces that she must be a doctor, so he gets up and walks over to her.

“Hi, are you a doctor here?” he asks.

“Yes, sort of. I’m a volunteer. Did you want to talk?” she replies.

“A volunteer?” he asks.

“Yes, it’s part of my course work. I’m a psychiatry student at Berkeley. Did you want to talk?”

“Yes! I do. Can we talk right now?” he tries not to get too excited.

“Um, well, sure. Let me see if the office is available?”

“Any chance we can go outside into the yard? I’ve been couped up in here for days and I really need to get outside and breath fresh air. It smells horrible in here.”

She chuckles very slightly, “It does stink but, um…”

“Please. I just need a little air.”

“Okay. Fine. Follow me.” She leads him down the hallway and through the day room to the big doors that lead outside to the small fenced in yard. There are about a dozen patients outside, most of them sleeping on the grass. The student leads Hudson to a picnic table where they sit down. 

“My name is Joyce. And you are…”

“Hudson. Hudson Barret.”

“Oh. Yes. Okay, first you must understand that as a volunteer I am not acting as your physician. You and I can talk but I can't take any actions on your behalf. Do you understand?"

Hudson nods as he makes a million mental notes about his surroundings.

"What would you like to talk about?”

“Um. I’m really frightened right now. I don’t know what is going on. I was at a big fancy party one minute and the next minute I’m here.” As Hudson is talking, he is also looking all around. All the fences are topped with razor wire so climbing them is out of the question. He thinks that maybe if he gets on top of the picnic table then he can jump to the roof then run to the other side and escape. But the jump looks too high. Then he sees that on the other side of the fence, two of the guards are pushing a new patient who is strapped down in a wheelchair to the front doors of the building.

“Ah. A new guest has arrived” he says, trying to lighten the conversation.

At first Joyce doesn’t know what he’s talking about but then she realizes the joke. “Hah. Very funny."

Hudson gets a vague memory of being in a wheel chair and being led around a maze to the front door. "Seems like a round about way to bring patients in."

Joyce considers his comment a moment then says, "Oh. Yeah, they are doing a lot of remodel work here at the hospital. So that's how they are bringing the patients in, for now."

“Oh. That explains it.”

“Yeah, all those gates and fences are such a hassle but they’re temporary. Its a secured facility so they have to make sure the construction workers are safe and to keep the patients from, you know, escaping.”

“I bet it is a hassle.”

“Yeah, the other day I got trapped between locked gates for, like, twenty minutes!”

“Seriously?” Hudson has always been able to make women feel comfortable around him. He’s trying to be as charming as possible hoping he can convince Joyce to get him released, “You don’t have your own keys?”

“Are you kidding? I’m just a volunteer, we never get keys. Actually, only the security has keys to the temporary gates, so you have to wait to get escorted in and out. But now, because the real doctors got tired of waiting and then walking down the long temporary detours to and from the parking lots, they made a shortcut.”

What Joyce is referring to is an emergency gate to the yard they were in. The doctors and nurses could bypass all the detours and get directly into the building by disabling the alarm on the emergency gate and using it for egress and ingress.  The security guards were okay with this because it made their job easier too.

As Hudson and the Joyce chat at the picnic table Hudson sees an approaching opportunity. One of the doctors is being escorted by one of the security guards to the emergency gate so that the doctor could leave for the day. 

Then Hudson hears a voice in his head, a voice that he has heard before but not for a long time, that clearly says, “Get ready!” He knows what that means. He shifts around so that his legs are on the outside and not under the table. As they were opening the emergency gate, the guard noticed Hudson. He looks at Joyce who is focused on what Hudson was saying and that was good because it gave the guard a false sense of security.

As soon as the gate opened, the voice in his head shouted “NOW!” Hudson didn’t hesitate; he jumped up and bolted for the open gate. The guard and the doctor tried to block him. He blasted right through them. He had no idea where to go. The facility was on the side of a hill so running downhill helped him run fast. All he could do was run as fast as his feet could take him in his $1,500 laceless wingtips. As he flew through the parking lot, he heard the alarms go off behind him. People were shouting but he kept running. He could not look back. He could feel how close people were running behind him.

Then he saw the busy road in front of him. Three lanes in each direction and fastmoving traffic. He had no choice. “Just keep going!” the voice shouted. So, he did. Miraculously, he made it through all 6 lanes of heavy traffic. Nobody was brave enough or got paid enough to follow him.

He ran into a neighborhood and decided he should zigzag around so he jumped a fence into a yard. A dog chased him, so he jumped another fence back out to the streets. Residents heard the alarms and came out. They saw him running. He had to hide. He ran to the end of a deadend street and into a gorge that was full of oak trees and poison ivy. A small creek ran down the middle of the gorge. He wasn’t sure if they had dogs out but he didn’t want to take any chances, so he ran through the water like you see in movies. He got to a certain point and the voice said “Go up hill here. Hide!”

Hudson ran up the steep slope until he could not run any more. He saw a big log on the ground covered in moss. He quickly dug a small cavern under the log, crawled in, and covered himself as best he could with moss. He tried to slow down and quiet his breathing. Mosquitoes bit his face and hands but he didn’t care. Then he heard them down below. And they did have dogs. Oh shit! They’re going to find him! He wanted to bolt.

“Stay still.” The voice told him. What felt like hours went by, but really it was only about 15 minutes.  He quietly and slowly crawled out. Nobody was around so he continued up the slope. On top of the hill was a fenced-in water tank. He climbed over the fence and then to the top of the water tank for a better view. From up there he could see the hospital he just escaped from and the neighborhood he just ran through. And he saw 4 police cars cruising through that neighborhood, presumably looking for him. Way off in the distance he saw a baseball field and beyond that was the Benicia Bridge and the marina below it. Then he saw a helicopter. It was a long way off but Hudson was paranoid and thought he should get off the water tank, see if he could get to the marina and steal a boat.

He climbed down and found his way to the baseball field. To get to the marina meant he’d have to walk through the city of Martinez, but he’d be easy to spot in half a tuxedo. He found a paper bag with an empty can inside. He took off his tuxedo shirt and put it into the paper bag. 

He assumed the cops had a picture of him. He saw a shard of glass from a broken bottle and considered cutting his long hair as a disguise. But then he saw a paper clip on the ground, so he rolled his hair up to make it look short and secured it with the paper clip. He walked through town and even passed a police car. He looked like any other shirtless white working-class guy soaking up sun while taking a stroll through town on his way to the park to drink a few beers he had in his bag. He made his way to the marina where he found a row of phone booths.

Hudson collect-called his sister, Marcy, but Thomas answered again. Thomas told Hudson that Marcy, his oldest sister Liz, and his mother had already been to his home in Lafayette but left a little while ago when the police arrived looking for him. They were heading back to Sacramento and planned to check in about once every 30 minutes for updates. Hudson told Thomas that he was at the marina. He would wait there until morning for someone to come and pick him up if possible. Otherwise, at first light in the morning he was going to steal a boat and head for Mexico or something. Thomas told Hudson to hang in there, help was on the way.

Two company baseball teams were playing at a field next to the marina, so he walked over there and sat with the crowd as though he was just another spectator. Nobody seemed to notice him. But he noticed the police car cruising through the parking lot.

He saw Marcy’s big red Ford Suburban. It was hard to miss with its custom wheels and lift kit. Hudson couldn’t make a move until the police cruiser had left. Marcy’s Suburban pulled in front of the restaurant. Liz got out and went inside to look for Hudson. He prayed that the police cruiser did not become suspicious and start asking them questions. 

Finally, the police cruiser left as Marcy was parking her car in the lot. Hudson walked up to them and got inside. Without speaking, Marcy headed for the bridge to Sacramento. Liz handed him a bag of Taco Bell tacos. He scarfed two of them, sucked down the coke, and then started bawling.

TO BE CONTINUED....