Saturday again, and one more thing to get annoyed about, to go with another part of the short story Nancy, Pease.
This week, after looking back at last week, I am reminded of something that has troubled me for a good long while: with the Super Bowl just completed (well done Tampa BTW), why are the Buccaneers now the WORLD CHAMPIONS? Remind me which other countries took part? I’m nt suggesting that any other country would win, but who else got the chance? Is it the same thinking that says USA is ‘the greatest country on Earth?’
Onto the serial. Last time, Nancy had just about enough of everything and had made up her mind on a course of action.
Read the previous posts HERE, but now, on to part #9.
I’m just going to sit here for a moment. Just to make sure. I can see some people coming out through the front, now with a bit more urgency. They are all wearing shirts and ties and smart business attire. Management and admin staff. No shop floor people. I can’t see Belshaw, but unless he has smashed his window and jumped out, he will be trapped in his office, wondering why his door won’t open. If nothing else, he won’t have to worry about this month’s figures for much longer. Eventually, some of the women on the shop floor will find their way out, but hopefully most will be stuck in the confusion and smoke and won’t think to go that way. I want to pull the door open and scream into their crying faces ‘Look what you’ve made me do. Which one of us is laughing now?’ Well I can’t do that, but I’m happy in the knowledge that the bitches are getting what’s been coming to them for a good long while. I wonder what Belshaw’s fat face will look like as it melts. Perhaps he’ll get out or perhaps there’s a second key, but I’ve got no way of knowing that either. The thought of his face as he tries the handle will keep me smiling for a long time.
A dull whump makes me look across the building. Something inside must have exploded, and I can see dark oily smoke coming from some of the vents. Now that I can hear screams from inside, I know it’s time to move. Stepping out into the car park, I’m pleased to see that I’m still alone; a crowd has started to gather on the other side of the car park, outside the front doors. I can see several people on their phones, but I think by now, it’s too late for the fire brigade. They may save the building, just not the people inside.
They’ll work out soon enough what happened, especially when they find my car blocking an exit. That’s a problem for later, but for now, I’m just going to run and think about those that haven’t made it out.
I’m sure I’ll feel differently later, but for now, I’m just going to run.
“I’m looking for Nancy De’Angelo.” That scared me. The announcement isn’t as loud out here in the corridor as it was in the main hall, but it’s loud enough.
“So you just ran away?” I hade almost forgotten Amy. She looking at me like I’m a first time visitor to Earth, something she’s not sure she should be afraid of or not. Still, I suppose based on our conversation of the last few minutes, I can see why she might fee that way. “That was cold.” Now she frowned, and that was the hardest thing, like she was judging me. She is in no position to judge me. She killed her sister. Stabbed her to death. She is right though. It would have been so easy for me to let those women out of the factory; Christ, I could have got another job, then no one would have died. I could have handed myself in; stood up and said what I’d done. I maybe could have even hung around after the fire had started; I could have moved the car away from the doors; I could have helped those that made it out; I could have called the fire brigade; I could have done something, anything other than what I did, which was run away. What does that make me? Oh God. I begin to cry.
“It’s okay though,” says Amy, taking my hand. Twenty minutes ago I wanted nothing to do with this woman, now all I want is for someone to hold me. I let her take my hand in both of hers. “You said it yourself, those bitches deserved it.” I feel her squeeze my hand and she offers another smile. “Parking your car in front of the door was a nice touch.”
I choke back a sob as I struggle to speak. “Nice is not the word I would use to describe it. Stupid, cruel, vindictive. That’s what it was.” I can’t stop crying. I don’t want to lose it in front of this woman. I’m not even sure why I told her all this, but it’s out there now, and to be honest, it feels like a massive weight has been lifted from me. Still… “I can’t believe I did that, I really can’t.” And that’s the truth. I had never been in trouble with the police before; never so much as had a speeding fine. What the fuck was I thinking when I killed those thirty-eight people. Thirty-eight.
“Obviously.” Amy begins to move off down the corridor. “No one starts out their day planning to kill a bunch of people. It just happened.” She reaches an arm out towards me and I step towards he and take it. “Let’s go and see what we can do about that.” She points above us towards the speakers overhead.There must be something about this woman, or maybe I’m just feeling a bit fragile, but I let Amy lead me along the corridor, her arm around my shoulder. She seems to know what she’s talking about and where she’s going, so who am I to go against her? Come to think of it, who am I? I know my name, and I know what I’ve done, but I still don’t know why I’m here, or even where here is.
Oh Nancy, what have you done? More next week.