THE TIME OF MY DESCENT

I'm staring at the ceiling. There's not much else to do. Well nothing at all to do. If you don't count

waiting for my meal. I don't know when that comes. The delivery seems irregular. Maybe it's not.

I've no concept of time. I'm in a cell without windows. I don't know if it's day-time or night-time.

They took my watch, of course. There's a low wattage globe set into the high cement ceiling. All I

have is my grey work overalls with my designation label sewn on. AW3899. They've taken my shoes, but they have given me a thin foam mattress and a pillow, both grey with ingrained dirt. So, as I said, I lie here on the grey cement floor and stare at the grey cement walls or the grey cement ceiling trying not to go mad in my grey abyss. I probably am mad and too mad to know it. Then again, have I descended into purgatory?

I must admit, I do have some amenities. I'll run through the list as a mental exercise: a squat toilet

in the corner with a polystyrene tray cover, the same as my food tray. A roll of toilet paper and my

finished food tray which sits against the steel trap door set into the steel door and my bedding.

That's it. At an undetermined time the trap door slides up, the empty food tray complete with poly

bowl, poly cup and plastic spoon are removed and a fresh tray is shoved in. I always say thank you

and try to engage my server in conversation. There's never a reply.

My memory is quite hazy. I know I'm being fed sedatives or opiates or---. Wait a minute, that rings a bell. Opiates! At one of my hearings, I don't know which one, there's been a few over the

period. I don't know how long the period has been. A year? I'm rambling. Opiates? I stopped eating

my food to purge my system of opiates. Which I did. Purge. But I became so agitated as reality set

in, I tried to kill myself by head-butting the wall. Fortunately, or unfortunately, however you look

at it, I failed. I didn't have the strength, I just hurt my head. My resolve weakened and I resumed

eating the drugged food. At least I felt calmer and slept a lot as I awaited decay and death.

Oh yes, the opiates. A bright light shone in my eyes and two large men picked me up by the

armpits and walked me out of my cell, down a long dark corridor and into a dark room. I think I

was stood in the middle of it. Hard to tell. I could just make out the silhouette of three figures

sitting behind a long desk. My escorts were holding me and I guess when they thought that I was

steady on my feet they released me. All of a sudden a very bright light was turned on and it was

aimed straight into my eyes. I recoiled but was grabbed by the escorts and steadied again. A few

moments later they released me.

I stared, squinting. I could just make out the three men at the desk. “Would you like to turn that

light off, please? I can't see a thing.”

One of them said, “It's not important that you see us. It's important that we see you.”

“I should think courtesy would compel you to make me comfortable.” I replied.

“Do you think that you are in a position to dictate terms to this tribunal?”

“Tribunal? Why have I been brought before a tribunal? What have I done?”

“You really don't know? Are you trying to be smart? Do you want Dumb Insolence to be added

to the roll-call of charges that have been brought against you? Do not incur our wrath further!”

One of this tribunal was sounding quite aggravated. I've just noticed that I'm feeling a bit sharper

and not as lethargic as usual.

“Gentlemen, I really have no idea what I've been accused of, or where I am. Somewhere in

Australia, I suppose. I don't even know who you are. I do know that I've been locked up and

drugged for a very long time.”

One of the other tribunal, I couldn't see which one but I suspected the voice came from the left of

their bench. It was a milder, kinder-sounding voice, “AW3899 or Albert if you prefer, you've been

charged primarily with sedition, intemperance and conduct to the prejudice of good order.”

“Well, I know that I get restless. Some of the rules seem unnecessarily restrictive, you know.”

“Right! There's the attitude! Right there!” It's the first speaker again. “Do you have the temerity

to assume that you know better than The Leadership Group with their years of experience and their

successful efforts to lift our country to its rightful place at the forefront of the world?

“Heed our motto! 'Together', as one, shoulder to shoulder, marching in lockstep into our glorious

future. 'Together'. And then along comes a malcontent, smart-alec who thinks he knows better. We

will not tolerate this behaviour, you will be sent to a re-education centre in the outback and

retrained before you destroy our homogeneous, peaceful society. That will then set you on a shining

path to our gleaming future. It's time for a greater Australia!”

I always knew that I should keep my mouth shut and let the majority think that I'm on their side,

not suspect that I'm on the side of the sane.

I'm not sure at which Hearing it was that they reminded me of a once-great nation that despite it's

motto of E Pluribus Unum, 'out of many, one', they were just too many 'ones'. All individuals, all

pulling in different directions until they fractured and their great Republic crumbled into dust. I'm

assured that won't happen to us. I'm told that we were truly united, a cohesive entity.

One time I was asked why my wife had left me. Well, I knew that. She told our Block Leader that I frightened her with my heretical beliefs. Example: my wife withdraws books from the library and absolutely absorbs them. I find them trite and repetitive. Change the names, and the settings, to the factory, the field, or the office, and you could recite them, they were so similar with the heroes heroically striving. My wife couldn't see that and got upset when I told her. Even the state-made TV movies were remakes of these books. Our TV programs alternated between these movies, inane game shows and documentary footage of historic wars and other disasters that won't happen to us if we stand shoulder to shoulder, etc.

At another Hearing the Leader produced my old family bible. I'd thought that I'd lost it. But my

wife had read excerpts aloud and handed it to the Block Leader as proof of my deviance and grounds for her divorce.

“Are you not aware that this book represents what's wrong with the rest of the world today? As one

of our great founding philosophers stated- 'religion is the opiate of the masses'.”

I told him, “it was a keepsake, just a sentimental curio. My mother left it to me.”

“You should have handed it into the library for evaluation.” I was told. I was then escorted back to

my 'residence', as the Leader called it.

I languished on the floor of my residence drifting in and out of consciousness, incoherent

thoughts weaving through my mind, time passing slowly. The bright light again! “Please leave me

alone.”

A sharp voice, “Albert, open your eyes. Look at me.”

“Too bright. Go away.”

“Look!” the Voice slapped me lightly.

I open my eyes reluctantly, squinting at first. “You bully.” I told him.

I'm in a bright room with someone right in my face.

“Yeah, the concussion's gone. The swelling's gone down."

“What?” I'm struggling to understand.

“You took a swan dive into your cellar. I'd say by the look of you, you missed all the steps,

landed on your head and frightened the tripes out of your wife who called for an ambulance. We've kept you sedated for three days till your brain such as it is, returns to normal.

“Three days?”

“Yup. Now thank your wife. She saved your life and she's been here every day, all day, reading her bible to you. Here, dear, he's all yours.”

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