The Last Adventurer

The word had not been heard by any of the other residents, or even the Orderlies, who would have really been upset had they heard it, but the aftereffects of speaking the word were noticed by everyone. Bart had forgotten that all of his pills were still clenched tightly in his hand in their open-topped plastic cup, and when he clapped his hands over his mouth, the pills bounced off of his skin, and skittered every which way through the air and then the floor. Mortified, he had moved faster than he had imagined possible when he saw what was happening. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was scrabbling about on the floor like a mouse chasing crumbs after his remaining pills, but he was sure it has something to do with not being caught.

Bart was motivated to catch all of his pills before being noticed because just last week, he had been told that he was making what was called “progress”, and that apparently meant that he was closer to being normal. While he was still unsure about such terms, he was sure that scattering pills around the floor – accidentally or no – was not progress. Even more unfortunate, the stranger was also running helter-skelter about the room, lifting up chairs up with no regard for the emptiness underneath them. This inspired other residents who were seated to get up and follow Bart closely, imitating his movements. Eventually this attracted the Orderlies, who in turn called for help from more of their friends on the presumption that the mass movement was going to turn inexplicably violent.

Bart didn’t notice any of this. He was under chairs, stuffing things in his mouth with reckless abandon. Pill, random dust bunny, or whatever, if he could get everything that he had discarded on the floor into his mouth, and get back into a chair before being noticed, no one would be the wiser, and it would just be another faceless day. He had swallowed all sorts of items, but knew he was one pill short – the large blue pill. And as he scuttled about, he saw it – two chairs over, just next to the wall. He crawled quickly toward it, when he felt a hand on his back. He was trapped.

“What’s going on?” A voice asked menacingly, hauling him up by his robe.

He saw cold, hard black eyes and a face wrinkled in disgust. He opened his mouth to say something, but rather than the easy explanation that was in his mind, a large moistened clump of loose cotton fell out.

“Jeesus! We’ve got another Kleenex eater!” The black-eyed man said dismissively. “What is it with you idiots that you have to put everything in your mouths? I’m reporting this for sure! Well, open up – let’s see what else you have in there.”

Sadly, Bart opened his now empty mouth. He was sure to get in trouble now.

“Sure, it’s empty now. Aw, come on you big sissy. No reason to cry. We’ll get you more pills. Now sit down here” This last part was accompanied by the standard shove that Bart knew all too well. “And none of you move – or there’s going to be trouble.”

Sulkily, Bart sat in his empty row of chairs, moisture drying on his cheek.

“Here. Now, let me see you take these normally.” Bart began to put pills into his mouth and swallow. “Good. Good. Glad to see you know something. See, these are more helpful than Kleenex. Now keep that up, and don’t cause any more trouble. I don’t get paid enough to deal with it.”

All that was left in his cup was the big blue pill which he had almost found before being discovered, and as he looked, his original blue pill was still over by the wall. He sighed. He didn’t know why things happened like that, and he didn’t want to know. He wanted to be normal. He picked up the pill with his hand, and he was about to pop it into his mouth like all of the others when he heard the stranger’s voice again.