Between Master and Slave (Manxman, Mature)

Albert

"What do you mean I am not allowed here! Do you know who I am?"
"I am sorry, Mr Romano. We were willing to bend the rules, but the family members have complained with the director."
Curly brown hairs almost shoulder length, round face typical of the overweight persons, the African American nurse was always jovial and happy to see me. She always welcomed me with some story or other to boost my morale, then sent me straight in to see Frank when I had a big goofy smile on my face. She always said that even if in a coma the patients could hear us and feel us and it wouldn't be good for them to be encircled by long faces. After all, the way she puts it, who would want to feel better in a world filled with sadness and tears. Yet today with wet eyes on the brink of crying and a trembling lower lip she denied me access. Standing in the corridor, Frank's door is 10 m away to my right. It might be 2km it would make no difference she will not let me pass.
"Come on Rose, this is ridiculous and you know it." I am fuming by now. "Frank and I have been together for over 10 years, many straight couples cannot claim that. Every day for the last month I have made it here to see him, and every day you let me in. Now some asshole that has not even called for years to see how he was doing shows up and I am just supposed to disappear? What kind of crap is this!"
I must have raised my voice, faces appear from the other doors. Out of nowhere some guard shows up and stands by to my right.
"You said it yourself that he is aware, he can hear and feel our presence. How do you think he is feeling now if I'm not there for him. At least let me go in to say good bye, that I have not abandoned him and that I will find a way to be able to see him again. You owe us at least this much."
Tears flow freely down my face by the time I spoke that last word. They are angry tears, they are tears of sadness, but mostly of powerlessness. The full impact of this month drops on me like a ton of brick. The car accident, the hospital, waking up and be told that Frank was in a coma. The initial struggle to be able to see him when we have no rights as a couple, holding up the fort both at the office with our employees and here with him. A month of playing the strong one for Frank, for employees, for friends. At the beginning I would allow myself to cry at night before going to bed. These days not even that, until now. So I cry for all to see how weak I really am, how much pain I really carry inside. Rose is crying as well. In a whisper barely audible adds
"Please don't ... please don't cry. Everything will be well at the end, and you two will be together again."
"What the hell is he doing here. I thought I was clear. He must not come close to my son. He ruined him and now he is in a coma because of him." From outside Frank's door a lady in her sixties yells at us. For ten years I have been with Frank, I have never met her. She always refused to meet me and for the last six years she refused to speak to Frank as well. Yet here she is, claiming a right long forgotten by everyone. By her side is a slightly younger version of Frank, must be is brother, they are three siblings in all, or so Frank told me. I have never met any of them, Frank has not seen them for the last six years until last week. Finally she yells louder then before, "kick him out!"
Without removing her eyes from me, yet addressing the guard, Rose simply states,
"Please escort Mr Romano out." Then immediately places her hand on her lips and takes a sharp intake of air, as if to stop the words that just came from her mouth.
A hand on my shoulder gently spins me around and pushes me the other way. Away from Frank. The guard gently talks to me, I do not hear him, I do not resist him. I am so drained I could not resist him anyway and his voice is sooting.

I wake up with a start. The chair I am occupying is quite large and comfy. It lies completely down and flat. The attendant even placed a padded cover on it complete with sheets and pillow. It would have been an enjoyable night sleep were it not for my, our actually, predicament. I look around, beside me, separated by a tight corridor, Albert sleeps profoundly on an identical chair. Ahead of us is the entrance of the plane, galley, crew quarters and pilot area. Behind is four more identical seats, bar area, where Francesco's cage is, then dining area and finally the Russian's private bedroom suite.
Since we left Singapore, we have landed briefly at an airport, then we took off again. I have no idea of where we are nor where we are headed.
I hear a noise from the cage. Francesco must be really cramped in there. He has received no food, nor water since he was put in it. I look at Albert again, he stirs but he is still soundly asleep. I get up, not easy with my hands tied behind my back. I figure I will try to talk to Francesco. I approach the cage and bend down.
"Francesco," I whisper barely audible, "are you awake?"
He emits a low grunt before answering. God, he must be in so much pain squeezed in there.
"Yes master," also in a barely audible whisper.
"I'm sorry," I say, "I wish I could do something."
"It's ok master. How are they treating you?"
"Quite good, don't worry about me"
"Did you eat?" He asks.
I cannot lie to him.
"Yes," I respond through the knot in throat, with guilt. I feel like a worm, eating and drinking while he is stuck in there on an empty stomach.
"I'm sorry." He adds.
"For what?"
"I dragged you into this. If it was not for me, you would be at your Masseria enjoying your life. Instead you are here, your life in danger."
"Don't ever say that again." I remember my nightmare about Frank and add. "I was a dead man reminiscing about the dead. You gave me life."
"What are you doing?" Albert's voice comes from above me, also in a whisper. Maybe be he too is afraid of Vladimir and doesn't want to be discovered here.
"Shit," I tell myself, then to him. "Nothing, I was just talking to him."
"I don't think Mr Stensky would approve you talking to the slave. Go back to your seat."
I would answer him, but I am afraid I would only make it harder on Francesco. So I just reply.
"Ok, right away. Didn't know I could not talk to him. I'm sorry, please don't want any troubles for anybody."
I say as I manage to stand and go back to my seat/bed.
He lays down as well. I stare at the ceiling.
"How much did you hear?" I ask, it is inconsequential right now, but I just try to pass the time.
"Enough, now sleep."
I keep silent for a while. Then I ask, even if I fully know the answer.
"Do you belong to Mr Stensky?"
"I said sleep." He cuts dry. Ok, it was not a good idea to approach the subject, so I just keep quiet.
"You really do care about the slave." He adds in a whisper after a long time.
"Yes." I simply state.
"It's pathetic for a master to fall in love with a slave. You know he can never love you back."
"Love? No, you misunderstand me. It is not love, not the way you mean it at least. He should be enjoying the best years of his life, discovering the world and have fun. Instead he has had all his freedoms removed, his future destroyed. You know what it is like, you are in a similar position. The worst thing is, that the more I try to help the more I seem to fucking it up, and now look where he is. Yes I care, I wish I could give him back his freedom, to make him a normal kid again." I finish my tirade and there is nothing I can add. We stay silent for a while.
"I do belong to him." He states suddenly. "I am the first slave, the first that survived."
There are so many questions I would like to ask right now. What happened? What was it like? Did he know what he was getting himself in? Finally I say the only thing that matters.
"Who were you before?"
He stays silent for a bit. Does he even remember?
"Igor Vachenko, sergeant Igor Vachenko. We, Francesco, I and all the other slaves are not allowed to ever talk about the time before we were slaves, but we remember and we keep it tucked in our hearts. I was a special forces commando in the old regime, in old Socialist Republic of Russia."
"It must be so hard to be a special forces personnel one day and..." I cannot say the word. If I felt pity for him before, now is actually sadness and rage for what was done to him.
"As I said we don't talk about it. Now sleep."
After some more silence I ask.
"Albert, What was Vladimir talking about when he mentioned the other that was terminated in the plane?
"We don't talk about that either." He simply states and turns facing away from me. Conversation is over. Eventually he falls asleep, I on the other hand can't close an eye.

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Ok, hope you are enjoying the story so far. Our two heroes are trapped and we learn a bit more about Albert, a photo before he was made a slave. What do you thing of him? Let me know in the comments below and please vote for the story if you enjoy it.