Man In a Box

Is it the crazy man in his house watching. Waiting writing that's truly trapped . Or is it the man on the other side of the glass . Who is Man in a Box .

Elegant Fear & Beauty Inc. Presents


A Short Story By Joseph J. Petree.

Man In A Box

Its 6:30 in the morning , just another day so much to do , yet so little time said Max as he scurried to his bedroom window .

Note book in hand , his left , with pages bent and the cover of the notebook torn off.

like the grips of the spine had spent there last effort to hold on tightly to the spirals metal coil holding the pages in place .

Much to do indeed max said , as he clicked his black ink pen 5 times to begin taking notes .

Max was not an ordanary man , he'd spent most of his pathetic unusual life worrying it away .

Worrying about what ?, many have plenty to say about whom or what he was so worried about .

But there he was , every morning promptly at 6:30.

Not even as if hed slept or hassled himself to be awake and alert so early.

Watching , waiting , reporting , his paper taking down notes about everything .

How much the birds chirped, how many inches of leaves sat on the ground with no one bothering to pick it up .

It's clear to see to anyone with a functioning brain that Max just well , maybe he wasnt all there if you catch my drift.

But his persinstance to be up that early intrigued me .

Every morning hed be they're watching out the crack of a old faded window with green shutters so old the paint is almost pale like time faded not only Max's sanity , but his home itself .

Maybe that's just superstician , a crazy old man writing notes in his home.

Harmless enough onr could think .

But why is he always so scared.

Why did this man shake so badly .

Maybe Max was just a sick man .

Anyway enough about that old coot .

My names Tommy .

I was born in this boring town , I'll probably die in this boring town .

Southfield is where I was raised , grew up right down 9 mile not far from Happity Happs Pizza a local joint with anything a person with a need for gastric by pass surgery could dream of only to wake up salivating n unable to move they're fat a*s.

Dont get me wrong, I'm a few pounds over weight myself , but I'm just glad I dont have there problems .

No , my life is a lot simpler , collage drop out , lack of opportunities after school but it was my choice .

Educated enough to know what's what I suppose , suppose, God even when I'm sor sure of myself i begin to feel insecure and second guess everything.

I've had enough of my sandwich , sitting on this hot park bench for once choosing a toasty chicken parm
On this cold winter bench even my sandwich is steaming in the cold nights air .

I take a few sips of my soda in between my big bites out of my sandwich, my reflection in the window behind me as I chew my food reminds me of Jaws, chomping and chomping til my fingers covered in red stains from the pasta sauce from my sub sandwich that didn't make the gulp .

I take my fingers n finish the sauce off like when I was a kid and my mother fried chicken in the kitchen as we played outside .

It was one summer in particular that stood out .

I wipe away the saliva from my fingers after polishing off that sandwich and tossing my bag of trash in the public trash right next to my bench I sat on .

As i walked home , taking my time, no hurry , just about the only time I can really think to myself .

God it always gets colder after dark .

I wanted my day sitting wondering about old man Max .

As I walked home in the dark cold freezing Michigan air .

I remembered .

Like as the whirling ice wind that began clapping my lips .

I remembered, as if my mind had gotten free from me and all there was was this memory .

Not my sight ,not my body , just a memory of that summer , the first summer I ever saw old Man Max.

I was 9 years old, the stretch was full of kids , all playing in the street .

They're were kids trying eggs on the sidewalk.

Girls and boys going to the summer pool .

And like so many others in summertime.

We played baseball .

Sometimes God, we would lose track of time for hours .

Me with my mother's wooden Louisville Slugger , back then I could barely control that thing so much heavier than my scronny arms .

There was Dean with his Catchers mit , dean was always game for some ball .

Especially if all of us were playing at the local park .

Dean had a hell of an arm .

He was so good that he made mvps in little league 3 years in a row.

Middle school n high school coaches would sit in sometimes at there cars smoking a cigarette taking notes .

I guess in Hope's that hed be on they're teams when he was old enough .


Chris was the loud mouth , the pervy need we all got annoyed by , always making up stories about how many girls have went down on him .

Not that we even understood what that meant we were all only 9 years old. But we all acted like we did .
And then they're was Pete was a insecure a*s but we put up with him cuz he wasnt all bad just a kid whose parents split when he was 5 .

And then our other friend mikey , he was a special student .

So many people used to make fun of him , beat him up , do terrible things to mikey .

It was on that day that our lives would unknowingly be altered forever.

But still they're we were .

A group of 9 year old kids .

Spitting , loading the bases .

Mikey was always the greatest fan and friend anybody could have .

He didn't like to play no matter how hard we tried.

But he loved watching us play with his Chicago Cubbirs hat and a smile that spread from cheek to cheek.

After we met mikey, nobody made fun of him anymore , nobody ever beat him up, nobody did terrible things to mikey again for 3 years mikey and all of us were a couple of the happiest group of loud mouth cursing prankster 9 year olds could be.

Reading comic books , playing ball and trading baseball cards .

We played til just after 6 oclock.

We figure we all should head home for supper before it got too dark , and the same plan as everyday , going down to the arbor drugs .

Taking back cans to buy a pack of baseball cards and a couple comics for each of us .

We were the best of friends , all of us, in the ignorance of youth we almost felt untouchable .

On my way home mikey on his bike me on mine .

I asked mikey if he wanted to race.

Knowing hes my buddy , I'll put effort but make it a little easy on him .

We sprung our legs into action , kicking , pushing .

We were neck and neck for miles .

And mikey tells me this is the greatest night of his life .

I turn to say me to mikey , and Mike was gone.

I stopped as hard as I could n fell off my bike landing with my palms on the gritty concrete .

I played they're conscious , in the after math of my crash and in moments of mikey being gone.

Vanishing like a ghost.

I as much as I could got to my feet scratches on my legs and face and my arms .

Telling myself as I made it to my feet.

I gotta find mikey .

I spent the next several hours walking the streets , even going door to door trying to see if anyone had seen mikey .

No one had seen him .

After hours of looking I went to my home and told my mom everything .

My mom called mikey's mom and they both called the police.

It took 15 days , eventually they found mikey .

His body was at the bottom of a lake side hidden in a old op4n metal container .

The police said it looked as if hed been stuffed inside like an oreo in its tray .

Mikey had been kidnapped , raped and murdered .

Everyone in the town , was heartbroken .

Me and Dean, Pete and Chris .

We lost everything , we lost our best friend .

And now none of us would ever be the same or be friends again .

Chris family moved out to ohio.

Dean's family was a good family , and even they didn't believe that it was only mikey who got snatched .

Pete's family called me a juvenile delinquent and that I should've been aborted.

And the truth is none of it mattered .

None of it because I refused to believe it was just he was gone and they're nothing I could do about it.

But he was, and there wasnt ..

But that night , old max hr just stood at his window , glaring at me .

Writing in his notepad , that was the first day I ever saw old man Max.

It was a night I did everything I could to forget .

I woke up , covered in snow , like I'd fainted .

Was it from the could , it must've been it's almost light outside.

Then I saw him , Mikey I said with shock and disbelief ,

Panting as if the cold had frozen my lungs .

But there he was .

As real as it ever could get, a figment of my imagination .

Or wait hes helping me up grabbing my hand , I think to myself this cant be happening.

Mike quickly smiles as if he never left.

It was then that I saw the lights of a incoming semi truck .

I saw was blinding light .

It was then I understood .

I knew why I remembered.

I knew it wasnt some trucker who snatched and killed mikey .

It was me , I locked it all away like a bad dream.

It wasnt old man Max or some rapist serial killer truck driver.

I killed my best friend.

I'm a Man in a Box .

The End