Corridor Guy

I can't remember exactly when he entered our cell. It was around the 3rd or 4th week. Sim had recently left us, wearing the same beach shorts and ear-to-ear grin that he had entered with. He was going to general population for 6 months. 

Sometime in mid-June, someone new replaced him.

I first saw him as I was being escorted to the telephone room. He was standing still in the middle of the corridor. Toad was posted behind him, equally motionless. I guessed they were waiting for another guard  to open the door to the room in which the bloodstained bed linen was kept. 

This guy. He looked unreal, skin ultra-smooth as if it were cast in rubber; head perfectly bald and baby-like. His eyes...they looked like the kind of eyes you draw on a piece of paper. They were flat. It looked like someone had glued them on his face.

I took a few more steps and suddenly had the urge to turn around so I could get a look at the back of his head. I wanted to see if there was a barcode tattooed on it or something like that. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was too afraid to look. What if I turn around, and I see him still standing there, but his baby head had swivelled 180 degrees, facing my direction, with the remainder of his body turned the other way? What if that happened, like in The Exorcist? I kept walking and didn't turn around. 

After my brief time on the phone, I returned to the cell, lay on my bed in my usual position, and opened a book to read. I had not finished the first paragraph when I was interrupted by Toad opening the cell door. He waddled into the room, glanced at the three of us, turned around, then uncuffed corridor guy at the threshold.

He entered K5 and approached me first.

'Kus on ajalehed?' 

I understood what he had said (where are the newspapers), but I was so thoroughly stunned by the immediacy of his presence that my face and brain iced over. A few moments passed where I just stared at him blank.

Alex broke the spell by pointing to the pile of magazines and outdated journals piled in the corner of the cell. I exhaled.

In robotic motion, corridor guy turned, went to the pile, picked up the first thing he touched without considering the other options, then made for his bed. Now, I do not like to use the term 'normal people', as there is no such thing as a 'normal' person; however, you would agree, that 'normal' people would carry a newspaper with one hand, right? 

Picture this. He picked up the newspaper with two hands. He carried it with two hands, abdomen level, like you would carry a tray of food. He held it flat while his eyes were fixed on the horizon. They were fixed on a horizon that didn't exist. 

Imagine that you are going to hold something in your hands. Now raise your hands and pretend you are holding it. If someone walked in on you doing this, they would ask you: 'what are you doing?' or, 'I'm calling the ambulance.' That's how odd he looked, and he was actually holding something. Think about that for a second. Really try and picture that. 

I could feel Alex's eyes on me, trying to get my attention. No one said anything. No one looked at another. Corridor guy did not say anything else. We fell silent for hours.

It was not until he got down from his bunk for dinner that I attempted dialogue.

'Mis su nimi on?' I asked. (What is your name?)

'Ebaoluline,' he responded. (Not important).

Mikkel choked on his soup. 'Mida?' (What?) 

'Ma ei ütle'. (I'm not telling).

I looked at Mikkel. He dropped his spoon into his bowl, or his bowl into his spoon - I can't tell you which one, because I was just as flabbergasted as he was. I then looked at Alex. He raised his eyebrows at me. His eyebrows hit the ceiling then returned to his face. Swivelled my head again to Mikkel. His mouth was hanging open. 

We continued eating in silence. Obviously the 'why are you here?' question was off-limits, if this phantom would not even tell us his name. 

The way we learned his name was when, the next day, it was called through the door-hatch. Each time we had to sign a bit of paper or receive mail, the guards would drop the hatch and bark out our names. 

We must have waited another week until we learned of the things Harri had done. 

...