Harbouring a terrible suspicion, I was sitting on a bench, made of iron,
waiting for my turn. I had received the
letter from the Ministry one week before. It said that I was thereby ordered to
show up in their offices, within five days, or face the consequences. It didn’t
say why; no explanation. What consequences? The letter also said that the whole
process would take about half an hour. What process?
The bench was aligned against
the wall opposite the office that was across the hallway. The office door was massive,
dark-coloured, very ornate, and it looked like a silent and threatening
entrance to the unknown. The dimly lit, long, and cold hallway had no windows. Its
ceiling, walls, and floor were painted grey. At the end of it, was the exit
door, with glass panes, revealing the darkness of winter.
I had already been waiting for three
hours. The anticipation and the uncertainty made me nervous. My back ached
because of the hardness and coldness of the bench. Besides, I felt stifled by
the grim atmosphere surrounding me.
Sitting on the other end of
the long bench, another man waited too. By the look of his hands he did not
seem old to me. But he had grey hair, and the skin of his face was wrinkled, as
if he had aged prematurely. The man looked at the floor constantly, and muttered
something that I did not understand.
I distracted myself by
looking at the floor, the ceiling, the office door, and the exit door. After a
while, I started beating my fingers, nervously, against the bench, while
watching from the corner of my eye, my partner in misfortune, who did the same
thing.
Finally, someone came out of
the office. He was a young man who mysteriously seemed old at the same time. He
stopped for a moment, looked at us with frightened eyes that seemed to jump out
of his icy face, and after that, he ran, quickly, towards the exit door. When
he opened it, a gust of freezing wind crept inward, and the frigidity of the
corridor became more ruthless; an unbearable coldness piercing my bones.
A few minutes later, an
orderly emerged from the office. It was a young woman, dressed in, what seemed
to me, an old-fashioned outfit; wearing a very severe hairstyle; no makeup, and
no expression on her excessively pale face. “Next” she said, in a voice that I
thought was sour and dissonant. Then, she disappeared back inside the office.
The man who was sitting at the other end of the bench stood up, looked at the
office door, hesitated for a moment, and finally decided to enter.
An overwhelming nervousness
was rising inside me. I felt dizzy and nauseated. I was shuddering. Almost half
an hour later, the man came out of the office and looked at me with sad and
absent eyes. Unlike the previous one, he walked slowly towards the exit, as if
he had to force his body to walk, or had lost the will to live. When he reached
the door, he turned, looked at me once more, and left, while the wind seeped
into the hallway, discharging its rage against me.
I heard footsteps inside the
office. I knew it was the orderly who was coming to call me. I stood up
suddenly. When she came out, she repeated, automatically, with her monotone
voice: "Next", and systematically went back inside.
Despite the cold prevailing
in the hallway, I was suffocating, my head became very hot, and my whole body
was soaked with sweat. My heart was pounding, and I fell in the grip of a panic
attack. I was not determined to open the door yet. For a moment, I was
watching, alternatively, the office door, and the exit door. After overcoming
my fears, I clenched the door knob with my hand, and I was about to open it.
But, all at once, before opening it, I took flight, and darted towards the exit
door. I ran as fast as I could. The distance between execution and salvation,
seemed painfully long, an eternity; I thought I would never make it. I
eventually got hold of the door, opened it, and quickly ran out. Outside, the
freezing wind, dancing, howling, and calling me like a ghost, embraced me, and
kissed me with lips that seemed to come from beyond the grave. I made my way
through it and, dazed, I disappeared into the night.
© Text and photograph, William Almonte Jiménez, 2012
