Short Stories @Brown

Nothing is Explained

The air in the room was moist and stuffy, but David supposed all basements were like that. He laid the Eason files on the frigid metal table and breathed deeply as he waited for the interrogation to begin. The other officers on the case had previously noted that David always looked anxious before beginning but soon after his demeanor cooled into concentration. They had said to each other that watching him work was unsettling, but in a good way, one would quickly reaffirm.

Everyone in the department knew of David and his quirks, like the fact that he needed to have exactly half a blueberry muffin and black tea before sitting for an interrogation, or that even though he was the best facial expression profiler in Nantucket, he couldn't read lips to save his life. Ironic considering David is deaf and his sign language was always mediocre at best, they would joke. How exactly David was able to communicate at all was a mystery to his friends. Of course, it wasn't a lack of trying on their part. When David lost his hearing, they had rallied behind him, taking night courses in sign language to avoid isolating him.

David's head turned towards the one-way mirror as they shuffled the man wearing a horribly bright orange jumpsuit. His eyes traveled to the man's hands locked in a grip of iron. The man's fingers twiddled absentmindedly, playing with the hem of his sleeves. David shifted in annoyance when the interrogator blocked the man's face. His only job was to analyze the man's facial features and they couldn't even manage to let him do it in peace. David melted into his chair and splayed his fingers against the files. His eyes finally focused on the man's face and his eyes widened in uneasiness. David crossed his arms as the man adorned the seat across from the interviewer and furrowed his eyebrows.

The man in orange was confident. He had a smirk plastered on his face and his eyes twinkled in amusement. David watched the man as he blatantly lied to the interviewer.

His eyes would shift away,

his cheeks would clench,

beads of sweat formed at the nape of his neck,

nervous laughter escaped his mouth,

his Adam's apple would bulge as he cleared his throat periodically,

It was apparent to David - anyone with eyes, really- that the man was guilty. David abruptly stood and walked the three short steps to the door, poking his head out and signaling to the security guard that he had finished. He then stepped back in and began to collect the files and copious amounts of notes that he had taken during the interrogation. Every single word he wrote led to the conclusion that the man was guilty. As he stepped out of the room and into the hall, he looked toward the door that blocked his view of the man in orange. He flinched and turned his body, rushing down the hall and up the stairs, avoiding the friendly greetings of his coworkers on the main floor.

Just turn in your report and go

David hung his head as he walks heading further about the wreck. On the other side of the building sat the man in orange. They had shuffled him back into his cell after David had promptly left. His smile, although wavering at moments, never left his face.

David began to sweat as he neared the door to the record room. He clenched his hand before gripping the doorknob and then suddenly released it. Instead of walking into the small room, he continued down the hall and pushed through the emergency exit. The golden light of the sunset momentarily blinded him and he used his report to shield his eyes, but threw his hand down as the damning words glared at him.

In that moment, David walked towards a grimy garbage bin and tossed his report in the trash. David stood there, his hand covering his mouth, in silence. The city moved around him, unaware of what he had done, just as David was of them. He took a deep breath before walking towards the entrance of the building, the shame weighing heavily on him. As he passed through the doors, a cool blast of air hit him and his eyes traveled towards a blur of bright orange. As he walked back to his desk he saw the man in orange sign him two words.

You're welcome.

Ok, so this assignment had only one rule, and that rule was that nothing should be explained. I found this one to be pretty weird and kind of confusing. Definitely not one of my favorites but ah well :/