The officers were out of their jurisdiction.
The Shunamite woman prepared a room for Elisha and his servant Gehazi. And Elisha and his servant Gehazi did not pay rent to the Shunamite woman. For Elisha and his servant Gehazi to pay rent to the Shunamite woman would have been an abomination in the sense that for them to pay rent to the Shunamite woman would have been to undermine her graciousness and thereby cancel her blessing.
I said this to Mrs. O’Bryan through the door. I had opened it a crack to allow for just enough room for my one eye to see and to be seen and for my words to be spoken and to be heard. “Chicago is Shunem. You are the Shunamite woman. Annie is Gehazi. I am Elisha. To forgive the rent would be your graciousness. For me to pay the rent would be an abomination.”
Mrs. O’Bryan walked away from the door rather than make an answer, which I interpreted to mean she had acquiesced or was considering acquiescing. But I misinterpreted. Rather than acquiesce or consider acquiescing, she summoned two wiry police officers to remove me bodily.
“You shall not be blessed with a child in your old age,” I said to Mrs. O’Bryan as I was being removed bodily down the hall toward the stairs by the two wiry officers. When the two wiry officers had knocked, I had opened the door a crack to allow just enough room for my one eye to see and to be seen and for my words to be spoken and to be heard, but the two wiry officers’ fingers pried the crack wider to make just enough room for their arms to reach in and then wider for me to be removed bodily.
“Unlike the Shunamite woman, your womb will remain barren,” I said.
“You the one who bashed him in the side of the head?” the wirier of the two wiry officers, who led me by my sleeve and the back of my collar, respectively, asked Mrs. O’Bryan. “There’s a mess of dried blood in his hair.”
“I’ve had seven children already, you imbecile,” she said, and the two wiry officers snorted like pigs snort. “Please, Mr. Guiteau,” she said, “bless me, please, with the curse of barrenness, you hornswoggler. Please, where were you ten years ago, you nincompoop?”
“Ten years ago I was preparing my flock, who did not understand they were my flock and did not understand they were being prepared,” I said.
“You’re a loon,” Mrs. O’Bryan said. “You’re a muttonhead.”
“Should one of your children expire, I shall not stretch my body over him and breathe into him new life,” I said.
The two wiry officers, who led me by my sleeve and the back of my collar, respectively, took the stairs in such a way that simultaneously pulled me and pushed me. “Do not threaten the lady’s children,” the wirier of the two wiry officers said. “It’s one thing to be a deadbeat drunk. It’s wholly another thing to bring harm to a child.”
“I’d rather my child stay dead than have the likes of you touch him, you derelict,” Mrs. O’Bryan said. She leaned over the bannister to say this so that I was able to catch a glimpse of Annie behind her.
“So it shall be, Mrs. O’Bryan,” I said. “Everyone in your family who dies from this point forward will stay dead. You had your opportunity to turn your heart to the right through acting graciously, and you have mismanaged it.”
“I hear men in jail often get their throats slit when they sleep,” Mrs. O’Bryan said. “Have you heard that, Mr. Guiteau?”
I missed the last step so that my foot landed heavily on the foot of the less wiry of the two wiry officers, who led me by my sleeve and the back of my collar, respectively, and in response the less wiry of the two wiry officers sunk an elbow into my ribcage. “Here’s one for your trouble, you oaf,” he said. “Watch your step now unless you’re looking for one in the nose.”
“How do you suppose throwing me in jail will get you your rent, Mrs. O’Bryan?” I called up the stairs after regathering my wind. “Additionally, don’t you think these good officers have better things to do than busy themselves with a simple misunderstanding involving a few dollars?”
“Not at all,” answered the less wiry of the two wiry officers.
“The job is the job,” added the wirier of the two wiry officers.
“I figure I’ll never get another nickel from you, you ne’er-do-well,” Mrs. O’Bryan said. “At least this way I get some satisfaction.” She turned her head then and noticed Annie. When Mrs. O’Bryan addressed me again, I noted how Annie’s presence had softened her voice like how darkness or snow or an empty room or a passing train or a ship ribboning out from shore or a flock of geese descending on a pond will soften a voice. “I don’t suppose anyone will be the worse off if you disappear for a while, Mr. Guiteau. Your wife included. If I were her, God help me, I’d fill my apron with rocks and walk into Lake Michigan. Alternatively, I would take this window of opportunity to make a run for it, return to my people if I had any, initiate divorce proceedings, and reflect on the missteps, mis-decisions, and misjudgments that have led me to such a sorry circumstance as to have you as a husband.”
“Annie is the woman you are not,” I answered Mrs. O’Bryan. “She knows her place is with me as I know mine is with her. What God has rightfully joined, let no iniquitous demoness put asunder.”
“You some kind of a preacher?” asked the wirier of the two wiry officers, who led me by my sleeve and the back of my collar, respectively.
“I think I know what kind,” answered the less wiry of the two wiry officers, and the two wiry officers snorted like pigs snort.
“If it wouldn’t be too much to ask, I’d greatly appreciate a couple hours to gather my things and get my bearings,” Annie said to Mrs. O’Bryan. At the top of the banister where it started, her voice was a whisper, but in its descent it gained volume so that when it reached me at the bottom of the stairs where I lingered in the hands of the two wiry officers, who led me by my sleeve and the back of my collar, respectively, it rang in my ears like a gunshot. “I’ll be gone before supper,” Annie said.
“Take until morning if necessary, dear. I can’t imagine what such a man as this must’ve put you through.” Mrs. O’Bryan patted Annie’s hand. “Well, I can imagine a little. I’m no busybody, but these walls are thin.”
As the two wiry officers, who led me by my sleeve and the back of my collar, respectively, continued to remove me bodily, I kept my head turned over my shoulder for as long as I could, determined not to miss the opportunity should it present itself to meet Annie’s eyes, but the opportunity did not present itself insofar as Annie decided to turn and disappear down the dark hall toward our room rather than present me the opportunity to meet her eyes.
In the wagon on the way to the jail, I questioned the quality of the two wiry officers’ horse, and in response the two wiry officers sunk their respective elbows into my ribcage.
“I am thirsty,” I said after regathering my wind.
“You don’t smell thirsty,” the wirier of the two wiry officers said. “You smell like you’ve had quite enough to drink. You smell like you shouldn’t be thirsty again for a good while.”
“You can have some water when we get you to the jail,” the less wiry of the two wiry officers said. “Then you can settle in and sober up.”
“There were two thieves,” I said. “One mocked Him and one treated Him with kindness and reverence. Care to guess which of the two He remembered in glory?”
“What is he babbling about?” the wirier officer asked the less wiry officer.
“Christ on the cross,” the less wiry of the two wiry officers answered. “Sorry to tell you that you’re off to hell, while I’m bound for heaven.”
“Hell, huh?” the wirier of the two wiry officers answered, and then he sunk his elbow into my ribcage. “If it’s already decided, I guess I might as well get my licks in.”
“You make a good point,” the less wiry of the two wiry officers said, and then he sunk his elbow into my ribcage. “If the die has already been cast.”
In the cell where I was deposited there resided three other men, one large man, one middle-sized man, and one man who appeared not much more than a boy. The large man strode over to me and sat down on the bench beside me. “Why are you wincing and writhing, sir?” he said.
“My ribcage,” I said. “My escorts took turns assaulting me with their elbows.”
“They’ll do that,” the large man said, nodding in commiseration. “Like this, right?” he said, and then he sunk his elbow into my ribcage. Whereas the elbows delivered by the two wiry officers took my wind and produced a warm pain that gradually relented, the large man’s elbow produced a cold, sharp pain that gradually increased in intensity.
“You hear that crack?” the large man snickered and called across the cell to the middle-sized man and the man who appeared not much more than a boy. “This bloke’s rib broke.”
“What’d you go and do that for?” the middle-sized man said. When he stood, the cap he had tucked in his waistband fell out so that he had to re-tuck the cap in his waistband. “Geezum, Neil.”
“Geezum, Neil.” The man who appeared not much more than a boy parroted the middle-sized man.
“I didn’t aim to break it,” the large man said. “I was just being rambunctious. I didn’t even hit him hard. I sure could have hit him harder. Someone bashed him in the head. His hair’s a mess of dried blood on this side. That wasn’t me.”
“Geezum, Neil,” the man who appeared not much more than a boy said again.
“Clam up, Jerry,” the large man said, and then he addressed the middle-sized man. “I didn’t do it purposefully, Dan,” he said. “What would I ever want to break this bloke’s rib purposefully for?”
“Geezum, Neil,” the middle-sized man said again.
“Oh, geezum,” the large man said. “I was just being rambunctious. I apologize, friend,” the large man said to me. “I was just being rambunctious. I didn’t even hit you hard. I sure could’ve hit you harder.”
The middle-sized man walked over to the bench, tapped the large man, waved him up, and sat down. “A busted rib is a painful encumbrance,” the middle-sized man said to me. “And dangerous. Our ribs are there for a reason. They’re meant to protect all the soft, essential parts we carry in our middles.”
“Our kidneys and pancreases and livers,” the man who appeared not much more than a boy said.
“What do you know, Jerry?” the large man said. “You don’t know.”
“It hurts to breathe,” I said.
“You have to breathe, though,” the middle-sized man said. He leaned into the space between us. “Concentrate on taking short, shallow breaths as opposed to long, deep breaths. And whatever you do, don’t cough or sneeze.”
“I feel like I have to do both,” I said.
“That’s your mind telling you that,” the middle-sized man said. “I just told you not to, so your mind is telling you that you have to. That’s how minds work. Tell your mind to mind its own business.”
“Sneezing is involuntary,” I said. “I think coughing might be, too.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that score,” the middle-sized man said.
“I didn’t even get him hard,” the large man said. “I sure could have hit him harder.” His back was to us as he leaned into the far corner of the cell where he made use of the chamber pot as he rested his forehead against the clammy wall. “Probably the cops beating on him brittled up his rib so all it took to bust it was a tap. I didn’t even hit him hard.”
“My body was made to be broken,” I said.
“How’s that?” the middle-sized man asked.
“I have been overcome by bees and have tumbled from the mow of a burning barn and had my leg snapped in a bear trap and have been brained by a ham and dented by a baseball and unjustly defenestrated in the middle of the night by thugs.”
“Hell,” the man who appeared not much more than a boy said, “our father shot off his own finger once, and when we were kids, Neil hit me in the back of the head with a shovel and I didn’t wake up for almost a whole day.”
“You three are brothers,” I said.
“It probably wasn’t so much how hard I hit him because I didn’t hit him hard at all as much as it was I hit him in just the right spot,” the large man said.
“Your brother with the shovel or me with your elbow?” I said.
“Yes, we are brothers,” the middle-sized man said. “To this point we have been, anyhow. Although lately I’ve been considering ending the relationship.”
“That’s a joke he makes,” the man who appeared not much more than a boy said. “Making like one can get rid of a brother like a sweetheart or a wife.”
“What God has rightfully joined, let no man put asunder,” I said.
“You have one?” the middle-sized man asked.
“A brother or wife?” I asked.
“Either. How about wife.”
“Annie,” I said. “I do.”
“None of us has a wife,” the man who appeared not much more than a boy said. “None of us even has a sweetheart.”
“We’ve dodged that bullet,” the large man said, turning away from the wall to face us. “Dan came closest, but he wised up just in the nick of time.”
When I stood, the pain in my ribcage flared so that I could speak only in a whisper. “I need to use the chamber pot if you wouldn’t mind making way, please,” I said.
“Sure thing,” the large man said. He took two steps to the side and watched me undo my drawers and relieve myself.
“Give him some breathing room,” the man who appeared not much more than a boy said. “Geezum, Neil.”
“He’s pissing blood,” the large man said as he watched me. “I didn’t even hit him that hard. I sure could have hit him harder.”
“Our ribs are there for a reason,” the middle-sized man said.
I tried to stop myself from pissing blood, but stopping burned more than pissing, which also burned but not as much as stopping. When I returned to the bench and sat, I coughed, and the cough turned into a sneeze, which turned into another sneeze, which turned into another cough, which made me have to return to the chamber pot not to piss blood again but to spit blood, after which I returned to the bench where I again coughed and sneezed.
“You have come full circle,” the middle-sized man said and clapped me on the shoulder. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so poorly, but your suffering might prove fruitful. Sometimes the powers-that-be will turn you loose if you’re sickly. They’d rather a body die on his own recognizance rather than on their recognizance.”
“They won’t believe whining and crying, but if you can show them you’re pissing and spitting blood, that might work,” the man who appeared not much more than a boy said. “Depending on the nature of your infraction, of course.”
“Temporary financial difficulties and an unreasonable landlady,” I said. “My wife will be by shortly. She’ll bail me out and tend to me.”
“With what will she bail you out?” the middle-sized man said. “Given your temporary financial difficulties, I mean.”
“Maybe she won’t need money,” the large man said. “Is your wife comely? If she’s comely, maybe she won’t need money. Maybe she and the jailer will work something out.”
The man who appeared not much more than a boy smirked. “Maybe she’d be able to work something out for all four of us.”
“Forgive my brothers,” the middle-sized man said.
“I will not forgive them,” I said. “For they know what they do.”
“I wonder what’s keeping your wife,” the man who appeared not much more than a boy said. “Perhaps she has other priorities today.”
“I will not forgive them,” I said. “For they are not destined to be forgiven.”
“How’s that?” the middle-sized man said. “How is it you won’t forgive my brothers when I’m asking you kindly to do so?”
“She sure is taking her time,” the man who appeared not much more than a boy said.
“She worth waiting for?” the large man asked, and he grinned. “Maybe I’ll wait for her once or twice.”
“How’s that?” the middle-sized man said. “How is it you won’t forgive?”
“They took turns mocking Him and struck Him again and again,” I said.
The middle-sized man slid closer to me on the bench. “How’s that?” he said, and he sunk his elbow into my ribcage, and the cell was filled with blinding light and deafening thunder, and its walls cracked like ribs, and the mouths of the large man and the middle-sized man and the man who appeared not much more than a boy filled with blood, and the large man and the middle-sized man and the man who appeared not much more than a boy prostrated themselves, and the earth swallowed them up, and the cell door was thrown open by a rushing gale, and I was restored, and I was delivered.