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Tuesday, 15 December 2015

The Two Cages

  (Memories Of A Life I lived In A Dream)


 I was living in Russia with an Italian guy in the loft of cheap motel. It was a rundown place, in a bad part of town but this attic/loft we were in, was was beautiful architecturally. It had beautiful exposed wooden beams and a sky light. The guys younger sister was also staying with us for a few months and had a mattress on the floor, with quilted blankets I had sewn for her. For the next week I was told we would have the place to herself because she had fallen for a boy.The guy got involved in a drug cartel and it got out of hand real fast.

Next thing I know there are two big cages in our tiny Loft. They are welded using cast iron and held together with heavy chains. I came home from the bakery I work at with a full paper bag of fresh buns and arrived home to find these cages.
No one was home.
I examined the cages and quickly realized that they had to be brought in in big pieces and built in our home because they were too heavy and big to come through the attic entrance.
I sat and did some sewing and fixed supper trying to ignore the cages when suddenly the entrance latch to our home opened. I heard yelling in another language. I heard The guys sister. Someone was screaming at her to go in first. I didn’t know much Russian but could pick out the basics. I was semi-fluent in Italian and heard her begging for her life in Italian.

I went into the bedroom and hid in the closet where I had full view of the scene unfolding. The girl lay on the floor crying as they put two men in the cages, one in each. They were bound by thick rope with cloth bags on their heads. There were 5 men heavily armed with big muscles and they ALL seemed angry. When they removed the bags from the other two me I still had no idea who they were. There rags tied around their eyes and mouths. The ringleader of the group threw the two men in the towering cages and locked them in. He told the guys sister, from what I could tell, that she was to feed them and water them enough only not to die. He had use for them.
The men then turned around and left.
I waited a couple of minutes and rushed down to the little sister. She was about 17 and had long flowing, perfectly curly hair that was strewn around her as she lay crying on the floor.
I could tell she had defense wounds and dreaded what they had done to her.
I ran and got a wash cloth and wooden bowl with warm water to clean her up.

She wouldn’t speak, she could only cry so I held her in silence and comfort.
Suddenly the entrance opened up and the guy who lived there with me rushed over frantic.
He just kept saying “No, what did they do!!!??? What did they do!!!??? NOOOO, my sister, my sister!” She looked at him and spit in his face. I stood and backed up as she wildly attacked him and started yelling. “You did this!!! YOU DID THIS!” and pointed to the cages.
I was completely confused.
I looked at him waiting for him to explain but he just put his hands on his head and wept in regret. Meanwhile there were two caged men lying battered and bound, barely moving. Still blindfolded and gagged. I walked over toward the cages and the guy ran to stop me.
“NO! you don’t know these men. They are BAD men! They are here for a reason.”
Me: “WHY are they here? Why are there cages in our home??? What kind of trouble have you caused?”
He went on to explain that he owed money. A LOT of it. So much he could never pay. They took his sister and threatened to do terrible things to her if he did not pay them.
Me: “Why did you lie to me? You said that she had fallen in love with the butcher's son and had run off to be with him for the week!!! What part of that translates to her being kidnapped and tortured???!!!”
Him: "I was afraid. I was afraid they would take you too!"
I threatened to leave him. He said they would find an kill me if I left. I had no choice.

Time passed and I lived my life normal, like none of it was happening. It was surreal. I would go to work, come home, make supper, feed the caged slaves. The sister would change their piss pots each day and we would all sit and eat supper while they watched like dogs.
One day a man walked into our home with shotgun. He walked over to the cage, took one of the men out in front of us at the dinner table and slit his throat. He then walked out without a word.
The sister fell to the floor and fainted, the guy walked over in shock watching the blood pour out of this mans neck. The other slave huddled in shock, weeping. I got up from the table and started packing my things.
I took my full suitcase and left, without a word to the guy or his sister I just left.

I went to another town further from the city and started a new life with a new name and tried to convince myself that all had been a bad dream.
One day I showed up at work and the police were there. I overheard them saying that I was a prime murder suspect. I ran but they saw me and began to chase me. It seemed I was running forever and one of the officers they had called in for the chase was none other than my (real life) uncle paddy whack. (The hilarity of that may be lost on those who don’t know him)
When they caught me and brought me in, I was told that the sister had fallen for a boy at the motel and told him that we kept slaves in the attic. She told them that she was made to feed them and that I had killed the one who died and had run away.
I then woke up.

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