it done broke down - 13. the room

by nick nelson

part thirteen of 13

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bob kept getting up and looking out the window of the motel room. it was dark outside. cindy was lying on the one bed, wishing she had a comic book or a romance novel to read or some gum to chew. you know, cindy finally said, if there is anybody out there, and you keep pulling the shade back like that, they are going to see it and figure someone is in here and is afraid of being found out, you are right, bob agreed. maybe we should turn the light out. that would be kind of creepy, but go ahead. the only light was from a little lamp on the nightstand beside the bed. there was a gideon bible in the top drawer of the nightstand, but neither bob nor cindy knew it was there, or would have cared if they had known. o k, turn the light off, bob said. cindy reached over and turned the light off. bob carefully pulled the shade back and looked out the window again. he thought he saw something but could not be sure. the end

it done broke down - 12. the elevator

by nick nelson

part twelve of 13

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so where are you taking me now? to see somebody who saw you and likes your style. you mean somebody who saw me just now? yes. while i was telling you my story? yes. does that surprise you? i suppose it should not. no. they came to the end of the corridor without seeing anybody. there was an elevator there and they got in it. there was nobody else in the elevator. robin hood pressed a button and the elevator descended rapidly. are you going to kill me? rick asked. no, what would i want to do that? this person who likes my style, do they want to listen to my story? i don’t know, ask them. the elevator door opened. they were in a garage with one car in it, and rick followed robin over to it. do you want to hear the rest of my story later? maybe. probably not. get in. the streets were empty. they drove and drove. they left the city behind. i never knew there was so much space, rick finally said. there is, robin replied. when are we going to stop? when you tell me the truth? the truth? about what? about what happened when the mill broke down. about why the mill broke down. next

it done broke down - 11. the window

by nick nelson

part eleven of 13

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rick decided to run for it. what did he have to lose? there were two ways he could run for it. he could get up and casually walk out of the room, and out of the building, relying on his natural sangfroid to carry him past the building’s bored and unsuspecting denizens. or - he could try the window. it was, of course, on the fifteenth floor. or so they said. but maybe that was just what they said, and it was really only on the second or third floor. and even if it really was on the fifteenth, rick had seen movies in which, when the hero or heroine jumped out of really high windows, there was always an open truck passing underneath filling with something soft, like feathers or mattresses or strawberries or some other soft objects or substances. do i really want to land in a truck full of strawberries? rick wondered. but first, he might as well check the window to see if he could fit out of it. or if it opened. he got up and went over to the window and put his hand on it to try to open it. at that moment robin hood reentered the room nice view, eh? robin asked rick. yes, very nice. the interview is over, robin announced. oh? why is that? rick answered oh so casually. don’t ask questions, just come with me. all right. rick followed robin back out into the corridor, which was empty. rick wondered if he should have tried to walk out, and not wasted his time wondering about the window. but that was the way it was - you could not expect to make the right choices all the time. why did you have to make choices at all? why did everything have to be so complicated? this looks like your lucky day, robin said, interrupting rick’’s melancholy musings. they continued down the well lit but empty corridor. but robin did not expand on his remark about it being rick’s lucky day. next

it done broke down - 10. a pause

by nick nelson

part ten of 13

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the wandering minstrel paused in his tale. outside, the wind was roaring more furiously than ever, after a brief respite. i hope i am not boring you, the minstrel,addressed the hit man, the hooker and the dictator. not at all, the dictator assured him, i am sure i speak for all of us when i say we are rapt in fascination to hear what happens next. absolutely, the hooker agreed. the hit man nodded agreement as well. my glass is empty, the minstrel noted. iff you please. i would like to refill it before continuing. oh, permit me, the dictator cried, reaching for the minstrel’s glass. thank you, the minstrel replied with a smile, but i like to give the barman precise instructions myself. of course, the dictator replied, withdrawing his hairy hand. the three listeners watched the minstrel’s back as he stood up and walked over to the bar, where the mustachioed barman appeared to be dozing. his story reminds me of one i heard myself, the hooker announced to the hit man and the dictator. well then, let us hear it by all means! the dictator exclaimed. i am all ears, the hit man added. after all, we have all night, if not longer, judging by the unabated fury of the storm outside. the hooker took a sip of her espresso and commenced. this is a tale i heard from my nurse, when i was a princess. old nurses are the best sources of stories, the dictator noted. oh, the hooker smiled, she was not so old as that. in fact, she was not much older than myself. indeed, the hit man murmured. just then there was a loud exclamation from the minstrel, who had reached the bar. next

it done broke down - 9. the recruiter

by nick nelson

part nine of 13

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the driver was a recruiter for an assassination bureau. but he was not in the car. the figure in the black mask behind the wheel of the car was a dummy. the recruiter, who was controlling the car, was actually located on a platform orbiting 3671 doniysus. cindy finally figured out that the driver was a dummy, and that the car was driving itself, or was being otherwise controlled. so she was alone in the car. and in the universe. just as she had always been. this made her feel sad. she realized that she was a prisoner of the car, and a prisoner of fate. it did not matter where the car was taking her. it had all been decided thousands of years ago, when one electron collided with another. or maybe it was three or four of them. she was tired. she remembered a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich her grandmother had made for her on long ago summer afternoon. she decided to take a nap. while cindy was remembering the peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches of long ago, and deciding to take a nap, her brain was being scanned outside 3671 dionysus , and the information contained in her brain relayed to the humble recruiter of the assassnaioin bureau. the recruiter’s name was vince. although he worked for the b assassination bureau, vince did not recruit assassins. he recruited people to work in the payroll and maintenance departments at the b assassination bureau headquarters on callisto. cindy’s brain scan touched him deeply. vince realized that life was a better place when people had peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches made for them by their grandmothers, than when they sat in front of screens all day reading scans of each other’s brains. how do you figure? robin hood asked, looking up from rick’s notebook. figure what? robin hood silently pointed to the line in the notebook he had been reading. i am not figuring anything, i am just reporting what vince thought. i do not care what vince thought. he sounds like a boring, sentimental individual. i can not help that. you sound like you might be a boring, sentimental individual yourself, to be wasting my time with this nonsense. you asked me to write this stuff down. rick protested. is it not my fault if it does not excite you. that might have been my mistake, robin hood admitted. he suddenly closed the notebook and got up and left the room. leaving rick alone with his thoughts. next

it done broke down - 8. the driver

by nick nelson

part eight of 13

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just as cindy was ready to give up, a car approached, going a little more slowly than the other vehicles on the road. it slowed down and turned its headlights up, almost blinding her, and stopped. want a ride? a voice asked. that did not sound quite right. in the old movies, the driver always said, want a lift? the driver must not have watched old movies. cindy thought, why else would i be out here. but aloud she said, yes, please, thank you very much. clutching her heavy suitcase with both hands, she got into the car, which was kind of small. the car roared off. it was a two-seater, with no place to put her suitcase. she quickly saw it would not fit on the floor. she felt kind of foolish with it on her lap. and it was heavy too. the driver did not say anything after cindy got in. he seemed to be concentrating on the road in front of him. was he driving the car all by himself? cindy wondered. i am going to the city, cindy said. no response. cindy had been almost blinded by the headlights before getting into the car. with her sight competely returned, she saw that the driver had his face covered by a black mask. so he does watch old movies, cindy thought. this sort of reassured her. a guy who watches old movies and owns an old car that he has to drive himself. how cool is that? i am going to the city, cindy said again. still no response. robin hood ran his thumb over the pages in the notebook rick had filled out. i ask you again, why can’t you get to the point? he asked rick. i told you, you said you wanted me to put in everything. i did not mean all these boring details. so what do you want? i want to know who this mysterious driver is, and where he takes cindy, and what happens to cindy. i am trying to please you. don’t try to please me or yourself or anybody else. just write down what happened. the driver was a recruiter for an assassination service. he was recruiting cindy for an assassination service? i thought she was an old woman. i was just getting to that. i will explain everything. just be patient. robin hood nodded. i am trying to be. next

it done broke down - 7. the dreamers

by nick nelson

part seven of 13

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left alone in the room, the narrator, whose name was rick richards and who was also a direct descendant of king richard the lion-hearted, got up and looked out the window. the window, and the room, were on the fifteenth floor. there were no bars on the window. outside, the sky was blue. he wished he had a shave and a haircut, so that he looked more presentable for his interrogation. it was always good to look good. his pappy had told him that, and his mama had too. and he had never forgotten it. with a sigh, he returned to his chair and waited for robin hood to return with a pencil. and hopefully, a sandwich too. and maybe even a cup of coffee, even though he had not asked for one. rick believed in dreams, and followed his. cindy folowed her dreams, too. her dream of being free. she needed all the money she could save to leave town and be free. so she decided to hitchhike to the city instead of taking the bus. her friends told her, cindy, play it safe and take the bus. just like they told joe not to go down to the river snd shoot his lady friend. joe might have listened to their good counsel. but cindy did not. she thought she was a big girl and could take care of herself. when she got down to the highway, she realized her mistake. most of the traffic was big trucks, with the cabs so high she could not even see if they had drivers. a few sedans and coupes whizzed by, but none of them had drivers as far as she could see. and none of them, trucks or cars, even slowed down as they went past her. it started to get dark. cindy considered giving up, getting off the highway and going back to town and getting on the bus. she decided to give it a little longer, until it got completely dark. you can just guess what happened next. i did not ask for a suspense filled narrative, robin hood told rick richards, as he perused the account rick had started in the notebook with the pencil robin had brought him. well, what do you want? rick replied. you are hard to please. i am hard to please? you are hard to please, especially after i brought you back that nice sandwich. how is it, by the way? good, good. i especially appreciate the spicy mustard. then show your appreciation by simply stating the facts, with no fancy embellishment. all right. i will try. i see that it is getting late. there is no late here. oh. i did not know that. next

it done broke down - 6. the two bobs

by nick nelson

part six of 13

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well, spit it out. don’t keep me in suspense. all right, then. first you told me that bob jones was a bum that did not have any money, and that cindy and the other women in town were attracted to him despite that fact. um - did i say that? yes, you did. and then just a few minutes later, you said of the same bob jones, and i quote directly from my notes, “if you had his money, you would burn yours,” unquote. oh, i know what i happened. what happened? i got bob e jones and bob f jones mixed up. they were cousins. bob e jones was the hot young stud who made the ladies gasp, and it was bob f jones who had all the money. it all comes back to me now. i see. and which one of them did our friend cindy - decrepit, one foot in the grave , forty year old cindy, take an interest in? ' both of them, in different ways. you know what women are like. no, my friend , i do not know what women are like. i do know that i have just awarded you two more demerits for that incredibly offensive remark, and you are now teetering on the edge. the edge of what? i think we both know the answer to that. what happened to the pencil and the notebook where i was going to write everything down? i got distracted. it was all your fault. i am sorry. wait here while i get you a pencil. why don’t you get me a sandwich, too. maybe. robin hood got up and left the room, leaving the narrator to his thoughts. or to the pleasure of emptying his mind after trying to answer robin’s foolish questions. as robin hood was walking down the brightly lit corridor to the supply room, who should he see but maid marian, coming out of the exercise room with a small barbell in her hand. robin wondered if he should ask marian to get the narrator a sandwich. it would give him an excuse to speak to her. but he thought better of the dangerous impulse, which marian might interpret as an arrogant assertion of privilege on his part, asking her to perform such a menial task. in the end robin simply nodded to marian as she passed him, idly twirling the small barbell in her delicate hand. another opportunity lost! for what is life, but an endless chain of lost opportunities? next

it done broke down - 5. cindy leaves town

by nick nelson

part five of 13

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she left town. but then, a lot of people left town after the mill broke down. how did cindy leave town? you mean what was her state of mind? no, i mean did she hitchhike, did she have a car of her own, did she take a bus? nobody hitchhikes any more. maybe not, but it is still a standard question, and statistics are kept on it. why is that, i wonder? i think it has to do with serial killers. there are still people trying to track down old serial killers, and a lot of them picked up hitchhikers. serial killers! what are you going to bring up next, gunslingers who traveled from town to town? we are getting off the subject again. i take it from your response that cindy did not hitchhike out of town. not after the mill closed down, she didn’t. maybe when she was younger, and hitchhiking was still a thing. when she was younger? but she was still pretty young when she let town, wasn’t she? no, she was ancient. ancient? yes, she was about forty. forty! i thought you said she was young. no, i never said anything about her age. it is you, mister deputy administrator, taking things for granted. so how old was bob jones when all this was going on? i don’t know, about seventeen, eighteen. so he was just a child! and cindy was a child molester! well, i don’t know if she ever actually got to molest him. he turned her down remember? but he was just a child! you grow up fast with that kind of money. at least that is what they tell me. but he should have been well protected if he was worth that much. that is one way to look at it. really? and what other way is there? with all that money, you got people trying to take advantage of you from the day you were born, and you learn to deal with it. that is a very negative attitude. but i should be used to it from you by now. hey, i am trying to be helpful here. first, you do not tell me that bill bailey was black, then you fail to mention that cindy was an old woman. are you neglecting any pertinent details as to bob jones? i don’t think so. you know what i think? do you want to know what i think? no, what do you think? i think this interview is over. here is what is going to happen. i am going to give you this notebook, this ruled notebook, you see it? i see it. ever see one of them before? kids in school used to use them, back in the day. when they weren’t hitchhiking and stealing apples from farmer brown’s orchard and getting into mischief. whatever. now i am going to leave you here and you are going to sit here and fill up this notebook with everything, and i do mean everything, that you know about bill bailey and cindy and bob jones and anyone else connected to them, do you understand? i need a pencil. i don’t carry one around with me. you will be provided with a pencil. but before i leave you, let me just check my notes. can i get something to eat? i am hungry. maybe. let me check my notes first. i could probably write better if i wasn’t starving. what the - here is a discrepancy, an absolutely huge discrepancy in everything you have said. it makes me wonder if i can take a single word you have said seriously. < next

it done broke down - 4. bill and bob and cindy

by nick nelson

part four of 13

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too bad. let’s move on. to cindy. and bob jones. all right. cindy dumped our friend bill for bob jones, right? right. i see you are learning to confine your responses to the minimum of required information. one more question about bill - did he have a last name? bailey. as in, bill bailey, won’t you please come home? i guess. bill bailey, that was his name. did anybody care if he came home? not so far as know. or even if he had a home. there you go again, volunteering information when it was not asked for. well, i did not volunteer the information that bill was black, and you got on my case for that. so i guess i can’t win. guess all you want , my friend, i, not you, am the deputy administrator of intersectionality for social balance, and i will decide if you win or lose. fair enough. so bill’s full name was bill bailey. yes. did his mother or anyone else call him william? i do not know. all right, back to cindy and bob jones. cindy and bob jones, i’m on it. at your service, mister deputy administrator. dod bob reciprocate cindy’s interest? no, he did not. really? that is interesting. why not? bob could have his pick of all the women in town. he was what used to be called an alpha male. used to be is right. the term is a remnant of patriarchy, and not recognized by the department of intersectionality for social balance. just like i said. do i get a point for that? there are no points here. just answer the questions. i am trying. how was bob jones fixed for cash? very well. he had enough money to burn a wet mule. if you had his money, you would burn yours. i suppose you think that was the reason cindy was attracted to him, and got rid of poor bill bailey. i did not say that. you are putting words in my mouth, mister deputy administrator. so how did cindy handle her rejection by bob jones? not very well, apparently. how apparently? < next

it done broke down - 3. bagging it

by nick nelson

part three of 13

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when cindy left him, bill broke down and cried. and then what? and then what what? what happened to bill after he broke down and cried because cindy dumped him? nothing much. why don’t you tel me what it was, and i will decide how much it was. bill pulled himself together, and got himself another job, not as well paying as the one at the mill. and this job was - what? bagging groceries at the local supermarket. and bill was how old at this time? i believe he was thirty-three. not much of a job for a man that age, eh? was he crushed, humiliated? he must have joined a militia, a white supremacy group, right? well, no, he did not. why not? probably a lot of reasons. for one thing, he was black. what? you did not tell me that. you didn’t ask. don’t pull that innocent oh i don’t see race i am colorblind balderdash on me, my friend, it won’t do. do you know who i am? no, who are you? i am the local deputy administrator of intersectionality for social balance, that’s who i am. i thought you were just a guy named joe. my name is robin, robin hood.. i am pleased to meet you , robin. i am sure you are. now getting back to bill, who you so deliberately and egregiously forgot to inform me was black… actually, he was not as black as all that. oh? how black was he, then? <> he had sixteen great-great-grandparents. five of them were black, two of them were white, one was japanese, and eight were polynesian. so he was black. what about cindy, what was she? she was an eskimo. anything else you can tell me about cindy? she played the mandolin. some people suspected her of being a vampire. not me, i hasten to add, some people. let me check my notes here. this bob jones who caused the trouble between bill and cindy, what was he? he was a direct descendant of king richard the lion hearted, and as white as a bar of ivory soap. you don’t say so. i, too, am a direct descendant of king richard the lion-hearted. personally, if you ask me, i think that stuff is overrated. nobody asked you. next

it done broke down - 2. the matter with the mill

by nick nelson

part two of 13

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poor bill. his problems all began at the mill. what was the matter with the mill? it done broke down. you do not say so. and then what happened? he went down to the river to shoot his old lady. are you sure his name wasn’t joe? yes, of course! it was joe! i get bill and joe mixed up. by the way, referring to human females of any age as “old ladies” is incredibly offensive. you have been warned. is that my last warning? maybe. as you were saying, about bill, or joe as the case may be… i was confused. it was joe, not bill, who went down to the river to shoot his old lady, i mean his female friend.. if he was going to shoot her, she probably was not his friend any more. good point. but as i was saying about bill… what was i saying about bill? the wandering minstrel was telling a story about him, and expressing sympathy for his plight, whatever it might have been. of course. well, bill had a girl friend - not an old lady, ha ha… you find respect for women humorous, do you? no, of course not. i t won’t happen again. and bill had a best friend named bob jones. bob was a handsome fellow who was much admired by the ladies, but he was a bum and did not have a job. bill’s girl friend - i guess the term “girl friend” is all right, right? you have not objected. ii am not objecting to anything. where did you get that idea? it is you who can not just get on with it. right. bill’s girl friend - did she have a name? cindy williams-fletcher. two names, huh? was she stuck up? no, she was the salt of the earth, and always wore a smile. all right. get on with it, please. cindy, like all the other women in town, was smitten …. smitten. that’s an old-fashioned word you don’t hear much any more. i am an old fashioned person. cindy was smitten with bob jones, but he was a bum and didn’t have any money to take her out and buy her nice things, so she pretended to like bill, who, take it all in all was a pretty dull fellow, because he had a job at the mill and a few dollars in his pocket. and then what? then the mill broke down. cindy dumped bill like a sack of hot potatoes. is that even an expression? was it ever an expression? it is in professor morgan’s encyclopedia of british and american colloquialisms. the fourth unabridged edition. all right, i will take your word for it next