4 John Does

2010: OddyCDC

"It's God's wrath." Reverend Harkell states, matter-of-factly. He scratches dry flakes from his unkempt beard. Harkell's not really a Reverend, but he earned the nickname in a derisive kind of way. One of those fire and brimstone holy rollers. I can't fathom why some people have such a hard on for watching others burn.

"Oh please, do tell." J.D.'s voice drips of sarcasm. He's obviously decided to poke the bear today.

"We're living in a modern day Sodom and Gomorrah. And to top it all off, we got these transsexuals, bisexuals, and interracial couples spreading it to the God-fearing white man!" The Rev talks with his hands a lot. Something they seem to teach politicians and the clergy. Motions with cadence tend to make listeners nod along, even when they disagree.

J.D. scoffs. "All of you cousin fuckers always prattling on about bloodline purity. It's like you've never heard of Darwin or medieval European royalty."

The Rev retorts, "Beats fuckin' a monkey! You know it all started in Africa, and anyone infected with it has committed bestiality in his heart! The Lord will not abide such an abomination. Thus he sends the great plague."

Michael pauses at the peak of a declined push-up. His toes rest on a bench seat, while his hands grip a pair of stoneware coffee cups on the floor. Mikey's gotten so large lately, the doc's had to double his dosage to keep him even. I think he got the wrong impression from the word "institutionalized". He's not even exhaling hard yet. "As opposed to all the righteous sheep fuckers from Scotland, right? At least a monkey sort of looks like a person." He can tell he's got the Rev's hackles up, as he lets a smirk slip. Harkell is vocally proud of his Highland heritage.

"So you're historically intolerant as well? The Black Death doesn't ring any bells?" J.D. pinches the bridge of his nose. "Someone drop some numbers on this dunce. My brain hurts just being around him."

Raphael's speech is muffled around the fingernail he lazily chews. "Yersinia Pestis. Responsible for three substantial plagues. The Justinian Plague of Europe claimed 50 million in the 6th century. A thousand years later, the Black Death killed twice that. Pocket full of posies. 1800's it spread through China and India. Another 15 million."

"Do you know what the word 'decimate' means, Reverend? It means to reduce by one-tenth. That's literally what the great plague did. It decimated the human population. And remind me, what's the death toll for AIDS?"

Raphael finally bites through the nail with a loud click. "Just North of 30 million. Sans monkeys. They're immune."

J.D. weighs the air with his hands, mimicking a balance. "30 million... 165 million... I'm not sure you think very highly of God's wrath. I find your lack of faith disturbing." His eyes narrow to slits, emphasizing the mockery.

The Reverend stands quickly, his chair screeching as it scrapes across the linoleum. His face is red, and fists ball at his side. J.D. stares him down.

"Turn the other cheek, Rev."

Harkell storms off. J.D. calls after him "Aww, come on now! No need to go away mad."

"See what you did?" I pretend to chide.

Mikey finishes his set and takes a look around. It's just us Does and the closed-circuit cameras in the common room. "And then there were four."

"Maybe." Raphael says. "It's blurry. Four came before two. We missed one by a millennium. And a half. Did we gyre and gimble in the wabe?"

J.D. snatches Raphael's small paper cup and examines the pills inside. "Ah, there's the problem. He's got the ones that don't do anything at all."

"I feel fine." Raphael snaps.

"Then what's got your shirt tails untucked?"

"Calculus. Inverse relationships. Mirrors. When did we emerge from the rabbit hole? Time..."

"Moves different here." J.D. and Jo-slash-Raphael finish the sentence in unison.

I tip my cup of meds to my mouth and swallow them dry. "How do we know we're not still there? This place could be the waiting room for Wonderland."