Warning: What you are about to read is silly, scary, and not to be repeated anywhere. Even on this site: don’t read it twice. Especially if you saw previews for Shutter Island during the winter Olympics or some crazy thing like that.
As we travel through the various small towns and villages in Mississippi ( yes I know that there are no “villages” in Mississippi, per se) I and a friend of mine make something of a study of the architecture of the various old buildings of a town. Always striving to keep in memory that these little places pale in comparison to the real wonders in older American cities and in Europe (e.g. Italy), I find this a fascinating and no doubt in some ways educational experience.
Or, used to.
As my friend and I drove through unknown territory in Tennessee, we happened upon the great city of ——–. As we discussed various subjects leading to the edification of the mind, and sipped our lovely cocktails of distilled water, high fructose corn syrup, and natural and artificial flavours and colours parading as “Thirst Quenchers” we spied, rising high above the immediately surrounding city, a lovely brick building of Victorian design. Was it a Church? no, it lacked the sign; the courthouse? impossible. It was surrounded by other old buildings. Some sort of University, we inevitably decided. Well, hoping to get a closer look, we pulled in.
(As you have surmised, I survived the following episode. But only, I believe, by the skin of my teeth.)
There was a good deal of construction going on, as was evident by the multitudinous equipment. So it was hard to navigate in through all the loops and parking lots to approach the building. But one thing stood out: not a soul was around. Or rather, to be seen.
My last conjecture was, that some Gothic type old miser dwelt there, who’s wrath would know no measure when he found two civilians wandering around his premises.
We drove right by the entrance: still nobody was to be seen. There were curtains in the windows, light on, but not a face.
Curiosity unsatisfied, my friend parked in an unconventional place, and walked across a construction area in order to look at the only sign around. My freaked-out-because-we’re-going-to-get-in-so-much-trouble nature told me to remain in the truck.
He returned. “Oh,” said he. “It’s the city asylum.”
Now let me interject here that I feel the greatest compassion towards the poor souls that find their way there. I really do… But when he told me that, I grabbed and squeezed the nearest grab-squeeze thing, and said, “Let’s get out of here now..” I mean, come on, what are people supposed to think when a couple of young guys from MS were wandering around the Mental Institute? I didn’t desire to deliver the wrong impression. And plus, what if there were.., never mind, never mind, never mind….oops, I really didn’t intend a pun there.
But anyhow, we flew the ship, or whatever. “Curiosity causes the demise of an inquisitive feline” I remarked, only in time to see the security guard coming after us.
I hadn’t done anything or killed anyone. Yet.
But he blocked our way, asked about our business, and carried himself as though he suspected us being escaped patients. I thought about being sarcastic, but the consequences and setting caused me rather to be silent and allow my confederate to do the talking, whilst I contemplated my views of situational ethics. And what on earth I was going to say on my one call from jail.
We escaped from him, or rather he let us go, and fled the ——– City Mental Health Institute and the city in general, passing several campaign signs that said “Elect Sain city mayor,” literally. Pun intended, though.
So prepare to see me computing from within such walls soon. Since the authorities have neglected my case for so long.