Make no mistake.
That bunny is owned.
— The Magician
In summer, 2018, I left Tonawka on a train, bound for Gary.
And when I say, on a train, I mean it. I was hitching a ride on a flatbed, hiding among the freight, as I made my way across northwest Indiana.
Small town life felt like living in a cage. I needed to be free.
On the train that day, I met a guy named Lester. He had a little notebook where he jotted down things people told him. Things worth saving. "Everything's worth savin'," he said. "Even words." I told him he should jot that down and he said, "Already in there."
I wonder if he'd think I was worth saving.
I asked him to read me something from his notebook.
He read this:
The future is a promise.
The past is just a lie.
And the present is the truth of everything that we deny.
But what is the truth?
The past is even more of a lie than I thought.
And the present is no gift.
What about the promise of the future? Lester said, "Fuck if I know what yours is."
Fuck if I know either, but this wasn't supposed to be it.
Lester was a drifter. I didn't know it yet, but I was a drifter too.
As I roamed, I robbed at least two hundred men. I'm responsible for the deaths of sixteen that I know of. Surely more.
I ordered a hit on Steve so I could rob him without consequences. Boogie and Otto were collateral damage, along with the mark who died because of Boogie, because of me. I got Jojo killed because I needed a diversion. I lit the fire that killed six people I didn't even know, and I danced and I sang as I triumphantly watched them die as they slept, trapped in a burning house. I poisoned Doug for vengeance, but not until I was done torturing him for my own pleasure and pride. I took out four police officers in the process.
Being a bitch made me think I was invincible.
Being a drunk made me think I was profound.
I left Tonawka, looking for freedom.
I knew freedom isn't free.
I forgot, the price isn't money.
I guess there were a lot of things I forgot along the way.
Here's something else I forgot. Something important.
Y'know the trick where a magician pulls a rabbit out of a hat? The hat has a false bottom. That's how it's done.
Nobody asks where the rabbit is from, and they don't ask where it went when the magician moves on to the next trick. The show goes on and the rabbit goes away. Where does the rabbit go? Nobody cares, because the rabbit isn't theirs. It's somebody's, though. That cute ball of fur is just part of the show, but make no mistake, that bunny is owned.
To disappear completely, don't be the magician. Be the rabbit.
I said that.
I believed that.
Yet somehow, I still thought I was the magician.
I was the goddamn rabbit.
And just like the rabbit when the magic trick is over, I'm gone.
I knew that.
I thought I wanted that.
But I forgot... the rabbit ends up in a cage.