K. Marvin Bruce

  “Honest Oahusha was the wife of the Moravian minister Felix L. Oahusha.   Befriended by Henry Chapman Mercer, both the church and the couple benefitted from his largesse.   When Honest began to show signs of what was then called schizophrenia, or lunacy, Mercer donated the structure known as Honest Oahusha Asylum to the distraught clergyman’s church.   State aid soon supplemented the modest surplus of the Moravians, and in 1930 the asylum came fully under the care of the state.”   Mich read aloud quite well.   The library, in which a few books had been left, was on the third level, just above the entrance.   Up here the light from the clerestory windows was comparatively strong, out in the corridor.   Good enough for reading, anyway. Mich put the book down.   “Ronald Reagan stopped government support of mental institutions in the early 1980s, before I was born.   Dick Thornburgh followed suit for Pennsylvania.   Honest Oahusha was...

  Wandering the maze of the underground world of the asylum, Terah had a revelation.   Currently, apart from being a little thirsty, his needs had been met.   His entire adult life, up to this point, had been a constant, unrelenting drive to get the next bit of chaos under control.   He had to be somewhere or doing something to prevent being failed, fired, expelled, evicted.   Other people had told him what to do and when to do it.   Lost amid the pipes and concrete walls, a strange feeling settled upon him. Terah had, of course, known freedom as a concept.   Now, however, nobody was telling him what to do.   He could decide to take a nap right now, and nobody could say why he shouldn’t.   He was alone in his castle.   Okay, there might be some ghosts too, but they couldn’t command him.   In fact, the idea of a nap sounded appealing.   His sleep the night before had been fitful, and turning off the flashlight here underground i...

As Terah stood as still as a startled rabbit, his brain processed the sound.   It had been loud, but not like a gun.   He’d heard a sound like it before, but on television, long ago.   Following the sharp crack there’d been a concussion of heaviness.   A tree had fallen.   The weight of the snow had probably broken a large branch nearby.   Waiting for his heart to slow down, Terah felt the cold seeping into him.   He thought of Mich’s fire in the basement.   He had one more side to cover.   Around the corner he couldn’t believe his luck. It had been a falling tree.   That was plainly obvious now.   The trunk had been arrested in its fall by the poured concrete of this fortress.   Through its naked branches Terah could see a clerestory window.   This was his way back inside.   It would be, that is, if he climbed trees. Some kids he knew in his neighborhood scrambled up trees like squirrels.   Terah suffered acute ...

Terah chose wrongly.   As he tried to scramble down the dark corridor he hit an unseen snag and felt himself falling.   Throwing his left foot out he had a moment of optimism that he’d be able to right himself against the momentum, a hope that diminished by the time he got his right foot ahead.   Gravity was winning and even pinwheeling his arms couldn’t help.   Concrete met bare hands and enthusiastically banged his left knee.   The presence behind him engulfed and then passed over him.   Aching and obvious about his location he let out a groan.   No one responded. Mich, it seemed clear, had had enough and had abandoned the place.   Maybe he’d come to his senses and returned home.   Still, in the short time their paths had crossed, Terah had grown to like the boy.   His consistently dropped g’s suggested lack of education, but he’d demonstrated himself bright and capable.   Groaning again, Terah rolled over and slowly sat up. ...

Who isn’t afraid of the dark?    Anyone sensible knows you should be. Terah stood frozen.    A rabbit caught unawares by a downwind dog.    His own hand clapped on his mouth made him miss Mich, the younger, wiser man.    He waited, ears straining for approaching feet.    Seconds passed.    A minute.    An infinity.    No steps. He weighed his options.    Terah couldn’t stand here for the rest of his life.    Standing on concrete was uncomfortable enough.    He didn’t dare risk the stairs without a light.    He’d never be able to find the red trail left by Mich.    Reaching out his right hand, he found the wall.    This meant the doorway was just a step back, and to his right.    As silently as his untrained tread allowed, he took that step.    A little grit grind.    Stop.    No reaction from outsid...

Fear notwithstanding, Terah crept close to the fire.   Pulled off his gloves to hold out his hands.   He looked at Mich in the dim light.   Young guy, not yet shaving.   At least it didn’t show.   What was his story?   “What do you do for food?” he asked. “Well, I’m stocked up at the moment, but I go out at night when I need supplies.   Found a few places with locks that accept MasterCard.   Only take a little from each, though.   Nobody ever misses it, I’m sure.   I try to avoid fresh snow, though.”   He gave Terah a small scowl. “I didn’t mean to bust in on you, man.   I’m just heading west.” “West to California?   Long way from here.   Most guys head south.” “I’ve got family west of here.” “Just passin’ through, then?” “Yup.” “Well, do me a favor and wait til the snow melts.   I can’t have your big feet givin’ me away.” They sat in silence for a while, watching the small fire. “You could pro...