Sam sat in his cage, hugging his knees to his chest. The wood poles that made up the cage seemed very familiar, like smaller versions of the last two cages he was in. He couldn’t tell if Snout was making new, smaller cages, ever time Sam failed to escape, or if he was just shrinking the same cage.
I’m not here, thought Sam. This is just a dream. It must be. Snout is gone. I lost him in the Hedge. I’m not worth the effort to track all the way through the Hedge, and out.
“Squawk!”That damn bird was still tethered to Sam’s cage. It was big and blue, no, green. As Sam’s memory faltered, the bird changed to what he thought he remembered.
Sam counted on his fingers the obstacles to his escape, speaking out loud as each finger rose from his palm.
“The bird, sensitive to thoughts of escape, but paralyzed by thoughts of rain.”
The bird stiffened and fell over. Sam remembered thinking of rain, practicing the imagery in his head for hours before trying to escape without actually thinking about escaping.
“The lock, old bronze, stronger than the wood it clinched.”
The lock suddenly fell from the cracked wooden bolt. It vanished before it hit the ground. Sam didn’t remember where it fell, but the wood splintered under the leverage of metal.
“The squeaky hinge, silenced with a gentle touch from both hands.”
The door swung open silently. Sam remembered pushing the door open with his foot.
The cage was gone and Sam was still sitting with his knees hugged to his chest. He was awake, on a couch in the office of a tattoo shop on 12th street. The owner allowed him to crash here occasionally. Sam laughed at himself. It was just a dream. There had been more escape attempts after that, each one rewarded with a smaller cage.
But Sam was here, in Sacramento, in a tattoo shop, laughing softly to himself, until laughter turned to tears. Then, he just cried himself to sleep.
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