The Last Visitor

“Don’t lie to Daddy, dear.”

“But Mommy did say she loved you; she really did this time.” A little girl protested.

“Did you bring me a blanket? There’s no heating in here.” The empty room encasing the man with barred windows and a baseball-sized lock on its door was indeed frigid.

“No, I’m sorry, Daddy. The guards said that you aren’t allowed to have any phisi- phsyci-” The girl fumbled.

“Physical, you mean, dear. Like this:” The man started. “Fi-zih-cal. Try it.” He smiled.

“Phys-” She scoffed. “The guards said you aren’t allowed to have any that word objects with you. I’m sorry.” The girl took a step back and pouted towards the nearest guard. He shrugged, toyed with his rifle, and tapped his watch to ensure it was in proper working order. Above him was a security camera equipped with battery-charged heating packs for the lenses, and across from it a small door that led onto a balcony into the pint-sized courtyard where the man was encouraged to stay.

The man had known the number of men who watched him was always at least five. But today marked the 20th day since the new year began. Meaning a shift change was in order—one soldier at a time. A fresh prisoner would be taking his place. Making the total number of guards who would be there at one time six. Never any more than six riflemen, usually less.

“That’s alright, you warm my heart plenty when you visit me. I never needed a blanket, I suppose.” He smiled with the slightest grimace, for his wounds had not yet healed from the last beating.

“60 seconds until she needs to be removed.” A guard warned.

“Daddy, I have to go.”

“I know, dear. Please, whatever you do, wherever you go, be safe. You’ll know where to find me.” the man enlightened his daughter.

“Promise, Daddy.” The little girl turned around and walked down 3 steps onto the surface level of the courtyard. A new guard arrived on the balcony and shook hands with the guard he was swapping with. The man marked a tally into the tiled floor with his fingernail, which had no extra space for another score, and took a deep sigh. As the little girl was lowered slowly back to where she arrived, a guard’s keys jingled quietly. Louder and louder it became, to almost a white noise, and when the man looked up, his eyes met five other riflemen.

“What’s the occasion?” the man joked sadly, for he already knew. The lead guard responded with a grunt and slotted a key into a lock the size of a baseball. A loud ka-chunk was let out by the door, followed by a squeal from the hinges. The guard motioned for the man to stand up, then grabbed him anyway.

“Daddy, are they letting you go?”

“No, but I will see you again.” The soft smile the man shone at his daughter hurt the man more than any physical pain he could endure.

“Well, where are you going then?” The little girl asked.

“Tell mommy I love her too, dear.” The man responded. His hood was torn off to reveal a scruffy neck, in desperate need of a shave, and gray-brown hair flowing from his forehead down to the top of his back. And his face was covered in purple and blue blemishes and littered with scars.

The girl became more frantic; “Daddy, where are you going?” her voice raised. All the guards had surrounded him by now vultures upon a fresh carcass. He was slowly led to a room in the courtyard corner and was bullied each step he took.

“Lola!” The man shouted. “Lola! It will be okay!” The man had never yelled at his daughter before. He despised it. But he needed to. “Eventually, we will meet again!” Tears began to flow freely down the mud-crusted cheeks of the scruffy-faced man. The little girl, Lola, followed suit, but she was unsure why. The guards took no notice.

“Prove to everyone that I was innocent! Your mother knows, and you do too, I know you do!” More tears join the rest already flowing down his face. A black feather with a white spine drifts downward, slowly joining the commotion.

The man was led into a dimly lit room. A battered, old, and mangled sign dangled above the door, appropriately named Execution.