Free Louse by David Grand Page B

down. And then the sound track goes silent. All we can hear is the rush of wind on the wings and the drone, not of propellers this time, but of plummeting descent.
    The rest is drama. The music fades into the back of my thoughts and I can’t hear anything. When captured, the brothers are tortured as they are questioned about the expected Allied push. Monte, unable to endure Baron von Kranz’s brutality any longer, agrees to tell what he knows in order to save his life. Poppy also agrees, but it’s a trick; in exchange for the battle plans, Poppy asks for and is given a pistol with a single bullet in order to cleanse his shame. Instead he shoots his brother, who when breathing his last breath says, “Don’t cry, it was the only thing you could do!” Moments later, Poppy stands before of a firing squad and cries, “I’ll be with you in just a moment, Monte!” As the last bit of smoke rises from the German gun barrels, the mist rises from the trenches along the devastated landscape of the Western Front. All of a sudden, with cheers and wails, long lines of soldiers emerge from their holes and forge their way onto the enemy’s line.
    My eyes feel so heavy and I can’t place this melody that runs through my head. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I haven’tslept in such a very long time now, so long I don’t remember the last time. The time I did sleep, it couldn’t have been for more than a few hours, and that time I remember I didn’t even really fall asleep. I was so nervous, nervous Poppy would call and I wouldn’t hear him. I closed my eyes in anticipation of hearing his voice come over the intercom in my room calling, “Herman Q. Louse!” Over and over, in my mind, I could see him watching me sleep as he called. Even seeing how exhausted I was he still called, not giving up, not calling any other attendant, but me. “Herman Q. Louse!” is all I heard that night as I drifted through auditory phantoms. Hours passed with my eyes closed as my mind traced shadows onto darkness. I counted thousands forward and back, thinking many thoughts at once. His voice swelled and infected the room. I could even smell him.
    I must think quick thoughts now, little jabs, like needles he supplies me with.
    â€¦three inches long to stick in my palms at the base of each finger, to keep me from sleeping, keep me aware.
No stimulants
…pure attendants only…
needles to be kept in shirt pockets to stick in palms of hand
…
    â€¦
if boredom reigns and brings on sleep, induce pain
…
    Take my pins to hand now, in order to save myself from further humiliation…from sleep…here, standing beside him…face the television…
    It’s unheard of, this…
    â€¦planes fighting over Western Front…men throwing themselves onto grenades…
    â€¦try to see the movie from another perspective…
    â€¦all blurs together…
    â€¦afraid I’m done for…
    â€¦already see his eyes before me…
    â€¦Mr. Louse…
    â€¦Mr. Louse…
    â€¦Mr. Louse…
    â€¦Mr. Louse…
    â€¦Mr. Louse…
    â€¦Mr. Louse…
    â€œYes,” I say, shaken to complete and total awareness.
    I am no longer standing. Mr. Slodsky, Poppy’s second ward, is standing over me, upside down. We are in motion. His bald head bobs to and fro. A rather skinny man with a pockmarked face, Mr. Slodsky incessantly stoops his shoulders. He has a nervous twitch in his left cheek that mostly twitches when he stutters, but occasionally twitches when he steps down onto his right foot at a particular angle. Other than the stooped shoulders, the pockmarks, and the twitch, he is a handsome man. He has a square jaw, which is nicely proportioned with his nose and brow. His gray eyes complement our blue ties. He has large arms and legs and perfect teeth. Mr. Slodsky’s fresh scent of ammonia wafts deep into my lungs.
    â€œG-G-Good