The Underground

The Underground

By Ilana Katz Katz

Copyright © 2012 by Ilana Katz Katz

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Ilana Katz Katz.
 
For further information, contact [email protected]
 
Cover design by Paul Beeley (
www.create-imaginations.com
)

ISBN: 9780615640402

For Shira

In gratitude for so many things

Chapter 1

 
“What do you think?” Janice said, twirling as if she were a perfectly proportioned Barbie doll.
 

“You look beautiful,” Nathaniel said, forcing a smile. Beautiful was the last word he thought of when looking at Janice. Not just because her doughy body was tightly packed into a sausage skin of a dress. Years of inebriation made her skin sallow. It wasn’t surprising since she was drunk most of the time, and Janice was a nasty drunk.
 

Still, being with her beat mandatory castration, his likely fate without her marriage proposal. He was grateful for that, but it didn’t quell his resentment.

Her perfume of stale cigarettes mixed with sour breath was constant. She leaned in to kiss him. Luckily, the doorbell interrupted.

“Your party guests are here!” she said, pulling away. A string of Janice clones stumbled in, chattering loudly.

 
“We need some drinks!” she yelled in Nathaniel’s direction, snapping her fingers at him as she greeted her guests.

"No vodka, no happy Janice," he muttered to himself as he slipped back into the kitchen.

“My birthday party has begun,” Nathaniel announced sarcastically to Janice’s Uncle Chester, once the kitchen door closed behind him.

“You mean Janice’s friends are here and they want booze?” Chester joked, while rotating trays of hors d’oeuvres between the counter and the oven. Nathaniel found it hard to believe that this kind man was Janice's blood relative.

“You got that right. The last time we ran out of vodka, it was after 11 p.m. which is
not
a good time of night for a man to be out. I tried to tell Janice, but she didn’t care about my safety, just about getting more booze. I ran to the liquor store and barely outran them,” Nathaniel said, letting his words trail. His near miss with the military police, or Tasers as they were commonly called, paled in comparison to what Chester had suffered.

From the outside, Chester seemed to have a decent life. Almost 50, he had a successful bakery with lines snaking out the door each morning. If it wasn’t for the dime-sized purple “Spot” tattoo to the left of his Adam’s apple, which all men received on their castration day, Nathaniel would never know he had gone through such a horrible ordeal.
 

“Thanks for all your help. I couldn’t have done this without you,” Nathaniel said, motioning to the platters peppered with Chester’s artful garnishes. There were cut up vegetables with homemade artichoke dip, baked Brie with apricot jam and crackers, and Chester’s signature award winning mini muffin tops.

“It’s the least I can do for your birthday,” Chester said.

 
“Why don’t you take these drinks out to Janice and I’ll finish up in here. Just tell me what needs to be done,” Nathaniel said.

“You know I’m more comfortable in the kitchen. Help me finish getting the rest of this tray ready and then get out there and mingle. That is most important.”

As they wordlessly chopped vegetables, Nathaniel felt thinly insulated from Janice’s favorite electronica music. The drums suddenly pulsed louder, triggering his nerves. It sounded like rhythmic bombs, much too close for comfort, right outside the kitchen door. Nathanial put down the knife and met Chester’s eyes.

“I’m too nervous to go out there. When she turns the music up like that, it means she’s pretty drunk and I just never know what she’s going to do. I hate to give her more fuel,” Nathaniel said, motioning to the vodka sitting on the counter.

Chester quickly peeked out the kitchen door, before ducking back in and locking it.

“It’s alright. She’s just dancing and having a good time. You’ll be fine. Before you go out there, I have something for you,” Chester said. He wiped his hands on the apron bearing his bakery’s name, Chester’s, before pulling a wrapped package from underneath the table.

 
“Happy Birthday,” he said, holding it out to Nathaniel.

“On top of everything else, you got me a gift? You really shouldn’t…”

“Open it,” Chester whispered.

Nathaniel took the package and began to tear the brown wrapping.

“Careful!” Chester snapped.

Nathaniel’s hands started to tremble as the black leather cover revealed itself. The embossed gold letters were half faded and worn away, but still clear enough to read.

Reminder of Truth

By Anonymous

"Is this what I think it is? I can’t believe this really exists,” Nathaniel said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt. “Thank you,” he said trying to look Chester in the eye.
 

Nathanial tentatively ran his fingers across the cover and started to open it.

“Put it away,” Chester said, tersely.
 

Nathaniel quickly rewrapped the book wondering why the hell Chester had it but was too afraid to ask. Castration would be a picnic compared to what would happen if the Tasers found Nathaniel with this contraband. According to legend, it described a time long ago when there was equality between the sexes. It was impossible to imagine.

Nathaniel quickly stashed the ancient book at the very back of the cabinet under the sink, behind all the cleaning supplies. Janice would never look there since cleaning was men’s work. As he closed the cabinet, Janice’s familiar cackle bled through the kitchen door, setting him on edge and bringing him back to reality.

 
“We’re in good shape here,” Chester said, releasing the lock and stepping aside. Nathaniel was about to leave the kitchen, but stopped. What if she dumped him on his birthday? She had been engaged two other times and had done exactly that. He caught his reflection in the glass cabinet door, and while he didn’t love his buzz haircut that Janice had mandated, at least he wasn’t going bald like other men turning 25. He looked good. Years of manual labor for the Cambridge Public Works kept his body toned. He was six feet tall. His warm blue eyes contrasted his dark hair. He could see in his reflection his chiseled jaw visibly tense.

“Go on out there,” Chester said, as if to break his spell.

“You sure you don’t need help?” Nathaniel said. He was nervous about getting through the night, but that wasn’t the only problem. There were four months until their wedding, and getting through that time period really weighed on him.

Chester shooed him away.

“Just one more thing…I told Janice that I made the platters. I said you just came to help at the end,” Nathaniel said.

“Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.” Chester winked at him.

——–

LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!

LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!

LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!

Nathaniel first heard that familiar chant as a child. Still, he wasn’t desensitized to it. Each round grew louder. As he opened the kitchen door and stepped out, he felt like a caterer at someone else’s party.

He couldn’t help but think about
Reminder of Truth.
It supposedly chronicled an era when men weren’t afraid to walk outside. Nathaniel couldn’t imagine that. After all, Nathaniel felt like he was heading into a minefield, and he was only walking from the kitchen into the living room of his apartment.

LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!...

He tried to let the words wash past him, but the women glared at him as they raised their fists in unison, rhythmically punching their words with lacquered fingernails. He was the only man there, besides Chester in the kitchen, so it wasn’t surprising that the aggression was entirely aimed at him. Nathaniel fought against the adrenaline urging him to run away. Instead, he pretended he was playing a role in a movie as he made his way toward his fiancée.

No matter how hard he tried to give himself a pep talk, he couldn’t deny his fear. What if they attacked him? What if Janice hated her drink?

“HERE COMES THE BIRTHDAY BOY!!” Janice yelled from the chair she stood on, high above all the others as she broke the chorus she had been conducting. The synchronicity deteriorated into comments thrown at him like rocks.
“Tick Tock, one year closer to the C Center…” “…You dodged a bullet. Well not quite yet, but soon, assuming she really does marry you, Nathaniel.”
 

He couldn’t hear them all, but a few rose above the cacophony of taunts riddled with a laughter that didn’t stem from anything he thought of as funny. He tried to block them out.

This was not how he envisioned his life. When Janice silenced them with a single wave of her hand, he felt a nanosecond of gratitude to her for making them stop. He shivered inside as the moment stretched. The final few steps toward Janice made his nerves jump as she beckoned him with her finger. It took effort to keep the tray steady as he felt a single bead of sweat slowly fall down his forehead to sting his right eye.

“I brought your favorite,” he said, holding the beautifully presented hot dogs in pastry dough as though it were a diamond he hoped was big enough for the Queen, herself. He held it to her with a display of reverence he didn’t feel. Whispers abounded as everyone waited. Janice gobbled two at a time and said nothing, holding the moment like a long musical crescendo.

“You’re right, pigs in blankets are my favorite, but they do make me thirsty,” she finally said, handing him her empty glass and giving him a shove that made him stumble and nearly spill the rest of the food onto the floor.

After regaining his balance, he walked toward the kitchen. With each step, the path seemed to stretch. Along the way, the women pawed his tray as if each hors d’oeuvre was a winning lottery ticket. He focused on the kitchen door ahead, his heavenly gate to a few moments of peace. Just as he made it inside, the electronica abruptly reignited.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get through this,” Nathaniel said, the moment the kitchen door closed behind him.

“You will because you have to,” Chester commanded. Nathaniel had never heard him speak that way. The veins running through the purple tattoo on Chester’s neck swelled. It was like a badge that he had earned, but never wanted.
 

Nathaniel wondered how Chester summoned the energy to lead his life following castration. It wasn’t like he just plodded on. He had a successful business. Chester’s Bakery won a slew of “best bakery” awards. That would be a noteworthy accomplishment for anyone, but for a Spot it was particularly significant.

 
“Janice is insisting on another drink,” Nathaniel said.
 

Chester wordlessly pulled a perfect pitcher of Janice’s favorite mixed vodka drink from the fridge and handed it over. “Hurry.”

Nathaniel did as he was told, even though all he really wanted to do was sit down and ask Chester about
Reminder of Truth
. How did Chester get that book and why? Chester seemed like the kind of person he could open up to, but there never seemed to be the time. Chester was either working at his bakery or else they were with Janice.

Chapter 2

It was nearly 11 p.m. when Nathaniel forced his last smile for the evening and closed the door behind the final guest. He turned and surveyed the damage. Spilled drinks patterned the wooden floor, and food littered the apartment like confetti. Women are such pigs, he thought, as he assessed the damage.

Chester offered to stay and help clean up, but Nathaniel insisted he go home. It was a work night for each of them, but Chester’s day at the bakery started practically in the middle of the night. Nathaniel felt a little sorry for himself with the job ahead. Luckily, Janice was already passed out on the couch eliminating the possibility of obligatory drunken sex. If she was semi-conscious, she would demand it.