country, which one I don't know, are coming to take you into custody for trial in that country. Wherever you go, you're bound to be treated better than this. Now, if you'd like me to write your parents and let them know where you are, or if you want me to get in touch with anyone else, I'll be glad to do so."
His was a generous gesture, one he didn't have to make, and I was tempted, but only momentarily. "No, that won't be necessary," I said. "Thank you, anyway, Mr. Ramsey."
He nodded again. "Good luck to you, Abagnale," he said. He turned and seemed to disappear in a radiant explosion. I jumped back, shielding my eyes and screaming with pain. It was only later that I knew what had happened. The lights in the corridor were variable power lights. When a cell door was opened or a peephole broached, the lights were dimmed, low enough to avoid damage to the eyes of the prisoner who lived like a mole in his lightless hole. When a visitor like Ramsey appeared, the lights were turned up, so he might see his way. Once he halted in front of my cell, the lights had been dimmed. When he left, a guard had hit the bright switch prematurely. A concern for their sight was the only consideration accorded prisoners in Perpignan 's House of Arrest.
After Ramsey left, I sat down against the wall and, after the pain in my eyes had subsided, mulled the information he'd imparted. Was my sentence nearly over? Had it really been eleven months since I was shoved into this awful crypt? I didn't know, I had lost all sense of time, but I felt he had told me the truth.
I tried to keep count of the days thereafter, to tally thirty days on the almanac of my mind but it was impossible. You simply can't keep a calendar in a feculent vacuum, void of light, where any segment of time, if such existed, was devoted to surviving. I am sure it was only a few days before I returned to just holding on to my sanity.
Still, time passed. And one day the panel in the door opened, admitting the dim light that, with the one exception, was the only light I knew.
"Turn around, face the back of your cell and shut your eyes," a voice ordered gruffly. I did as instructed, my heart hammering. Was this the day of my release? Or was something else in store for me.
"Do not turn around, but open your eyes slowly and let them get accustomed to the light," the voice instructed. "I will leave this open for an hour, then I'll be back."
I slowly opened my eyes and found myself surrounded by a bright, golden glow, too bright for my weak orbs. I had to shut them against the glare. Gradually, however, my pupils adjusted to the illumination and I was able to look around me without squinting and without pain. Even so, the cell was still gloomy, like twilight on a rainy day. An hour later the guard returned, or at least the voice sounded the same.
"Close your eyes again," he instructed. "I am going to turn up the lights further." I did so, and when he instructed me to do so, I opened my eyes slowly and cautiously. The tiny cubicle was flooded with a luminous glare, causing me to squint again. The radiance ringed the cell like a nimbus around a dark star, illuminating fully for the first time the interior of the tiny vault. I was appalled and sickened as I looked around. The walls were moist and crusted with slimy mold. The ceiling, too, glistened with moisture. The floor was filthy with excrement, and the bucket, unemptied for some time, teemed with maggots. The odious worms were also slithering around the floor.
I vomited.
It was perhaps another hour before the guard returned. This time he opened the door. "Come with me," he ordered. I scrambled from the foul cave without hesitation, experiencing shooting pains in my neck, shoulders, arms and legs as I straightened up for the first time since my arrival. I had difficulty walking, but I waddled after the guard like a half-drunk duck, sometimes steadying myself by putting a hand against the wall.
He led me downstairs and into a sparsely furnished room.
"Stand here," he ordered, and disappeared through an open door that led to another chamber. I turned, inspecting the room, marveling at its