I do not like the game Parcheesi. I am not allowed to leave this room. Twice since I’ve been here, I have tried to leave this room. I would get up from the table, lay my dice down and walk toward the closed door. When I would be about two feet from the door, the door would burst open and two large men would jump upon me. One would hold my arms back while the other would pummel me with his fists upon my face and stomach. I would double over from the blows and be thrown to the floor. The men would leave the room and quietly close the door behind them. Slowly I would crawl along the floor back to my chair and struggle to sit myself back down. My head would spin from the beating I received and I would gasp for air clutching my stomach. Neither Helen or Coach would come to my aid and help me into my chair after I received those two beatings. Neither would say a word to console me. They wouldn’t even look at me. While I would try to collect myself after a beating, Coach would busy himself by lining up our pawns to start a new game and Helen would practice throwing her dice.
Twice I received a beating for trying to leave. I wonder if Coach or Helen have ever tried to leave this room. My heart sank at the thought of Helen being physically punished. I would study her face and look for hidden bruises or welts under her makeup, but saw no evidence that she received a beating. I would look at Coach’s face but his large face seemed free from punishment as well. My right eye is so swollen that I can barely see out of it and a dull ache spreads across my face.
I do not like the game Parcheesi. We have been playing it for what seems like several days. I have lost track of time. Earlier I had asked Helen in a soft whisper how long she has been playing in this room.
“I really don’t know,” she said with a faint smile, “but I do know that I like this game, though it would be nice to take a break and play something else. Have you ever played Bunco?”
Coach cracked his gum as a signal for Helen to quit talking to me. She covered her mouth like a small child getting caught talking in a classroom and we continued to play the game in silence. We are also not allowed to talk to each other while we play. We have yet to take a decent break. I would like to ask Coach a few questions but he never looks at me. His eyes stay on the board as he puzzles over the move he must make or studies the moves that Helen or I have made.