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I
lie
still
and
slow
my
breathing
,
waiting
to
see
if
something
is
going
to
happen
.
It
is
dark
my
lord
and
I
hear
them
slipping
around
out
there
in
their
rubber
shoes
;
twice
they
peek
in
the
dorm
and
run
a
flashlight
over
everybody
.
I
keep
my
eyes
shut
and
keep
awake
.
I
hear
a
wailing
from
up
on
Disturbed
,
loo
loo
looo
--
got
some
guy
wired
to
pick
up
code
signals
.
"
Oh
,
a
beer
,
I
think
,
fo
'
the
long
night
ahead
,
"
I
hear
a
black
boy
whisper
to
the
other
.
Rubber
shoes
squeak
off
toward
the
Nurses
'
Station
,
where
the
refrigerator
is
.
"
You
like
a
beer
,
sweet
thing
with
a
birthmark
?
Fo
'
the
long
night
ahead
?
"
The
guy
upstairs
hushes
.
The
low
whine
of
the
devices
in
the
walls
gets
quieter
and
quieter
,
till
it
hums
down
to
nothing
.
Not
a
sound
across
the
hospital
--
except
for
a
dull
,
padded
rumbling
somewhere
deep
in
the
guts
of
the
building
,
a
sound
that
I
never
noticed
before
--
a
lot
like
the
sound
you
hear
when
you
're
standing
late
at
night
on
top
of
a
big
hydroelectric
dam
.
Low
,
relentless
,
brute
power
.
The
fat
black
boy
stands
out
there
in
the
hall
where
I
can
see
him
,
looking
all
around
and
giggling
.
He
walks
toward
the
dorm
door
,
slow
,
wiping
the
wet
gray
palms
in
his
armpits
.
The
light
from
the
Nurses
'
Station
throws
his
shadow
on
the
dorm
wall
big
as
an
elephant
,
gets
smaller
as
he
walks
to
the
dorm
door
and
looks
in
.
He
giggles
again
and
unlocks
the
fuse
box
by
the
door
and
reaches
in
.
"
Tha
's
right
,
babies
,
sleep
tight
.
"
Twists
a
knob
,
and
the
whole
floor
goes
to
slipping
down
away
from
him
standing
in
the
door
,
lowering
into
the
building
like
a
platform
in
a
grain
elevator
!
Not
a
thing
but
the
dorm
floor
moves
,
and
we
're
sliding
away
from
the
walls
and
door
and
the
windows
of
the
ward
at
a
hell
of
a
clip
--
beds
,
bedstands
,
and
all
.
The
machinery
--
probably
a
cog-and-track
affair
at
each
corner
of
the
shaft
--
is
greased
silent
as
death
.
The
only
sound
I
hear
is
the
guys
breathing
,
and
that
drumming
under
us
getting
louder
the
farther
down
we
go
.
The
light
of
the
dorm
door
five
hundred
yards
back
up
this
hole
is
nothing
but
a
speck
,
dusting
the
square
sides
of
the
shaft
with
a
dim
powder
.
It
gets
dimmer
and
dimmer
till
a
faraway
scream
comes
echoing
down
the
sides
of
the
shaft
--
"
Stay
back
!
"
--
and
the
light
goes
out
altogether
.
The
floor
reaches
some
kind
of
solid
bottom
far
down
in
the
ground
and
stops
with
a
soft
jar
.
It
's
dead
black
,
and
I
can
feel
the
sheet
around
me
choking
off
my
wind
.
Just
as
I
get
the
sheet
untied
,
the
floor
starts
sliding
forward
with
a
little
jolt
.
Some
kind
of
castors
under
it
I
ca
n't
hear
.
I
ca
n't
even
hear
the
guys
around
me
breathing
,
and
I
realize
all
of
a
sudden
it
's
because
that
drumming
's
gradually
got
so
loud
I
ca
n't
hear
anything
else
.
We
must
be
square
in
the
middle
of
it
.
I
go
to
clawing
at
that
damned
sheet
tied
across
me
and
just
about
have
it
loose
when
a
whole
wall
slides
up
,
reveals
a
huge
room
of
endless
machines
stretching
clear
out
of
sight
,
swarming
with
sweating
,
shirtless
men
running
up
and
down
catwalks
,
faces
blank
and
dreamy
in
firelight
thrown
from
a
hundred
blast
furnaces
.
It
--
everything
I
see
--
looks
like
it
sounded
,
like
the
inside
of
a
tremendous
dam
.
Huge
brass
tubes
disappear
upward
in
the
dark
.
Wires
run
to
transformers
out
of
sight
.
Grease
and
cinders
catch
on
everything
,
staining
the
couplings
and
motors
and
dynamos
red
and
coal
black
.
The
workers
all
move
at
the
same
smooth
sprint
,
an
easy
,
fluid
stride
.
No
one
's
in
a
hurry
.
One
will
hold
up
a
second
,
spin
a
dial
,
push
a
button
,
throw
a
switch
,
and
one
side
of
his
face
flashes
white
like
lightning
from
the
spark
of
the
connecting
switch
,
and
run
on
,
up
steel
steps
and
along
a
corrugated
iron
catwalk
--
pass
each
other
so
smooth
and
close
I
hear
the
slap
of
wet
sides
like
the
slap
of
a
salmon
's
tail
on
water
--
stop
again
,
throw
lightning
from
another
switch
,
and
run
on
again
.
They
twinkle
in
all
directions
clean
on
out
of
sight
,
these
flash
pictures
of
the
dreamy
doll
faces
of
the
workmen
.
