"Family Tree" by Johannes Springenseiss
- Roi Fainéant
- 5 days ago
- 2 min read
The detainees in the large holding cell appear rather harmless, probably students, laborers, middle-aged professionals. If anything, I must look like the only bum, with my cutoff jeans, torn t-shirt and unshaven face.
Three cops appear on the happy side of the bars; one of them unfolds a list. He yells, “Broady!”
Broady seems to be dressed for the office or theatre, definitely not for revolution. The cops take him away. “They’re going in the interrogation room,” whispers an older man. “Heard about it? No desk, no chairs, walls made of concrete blocks. The works!”
Ten minutes later Broady is out, accompanied by the chief of police. The latter could not be more apologetic. “Sorry about the misunderstanding, Mr. Broady. It’s all good. Here’s a note to your supervisor. It says the reason for being late today, you had to attend an urgent community related meeting. Other than that, please don’t mention any of this to anyone. It’s in your best interest, sir, believe me.”
Broady looks at the paper, grimaces and hands it back to the chief. Then without saying a word, he walks out of the building.
The next guy taken to interrogation doesn’t return. Neither does the third one.
The cop sitting at the desk across from the cell has a familiar face. He notices me. “What are you staring at?!”
I step to the bars. “We know each other, don’t we? Unless I’m mistaken, last year we met at a birthday party or Thanksgiving. I believe you are my second cousin on my father’s side. My name is Kende, and I bet yours too.”
He gets up from his chair and walks closer to me. “So what? It’s a common name.”
“Well, not in these parts.”
He whispers, “Enough bullshitting. If you get through the day in one piece, we can talk. Till then, let’s remain strangers, okay? Believe me, it’s in your best interest, and also in mine.”