Con Man
a story in verse
Kate Austen, 2004
"Sawyer," she asks,
Afraid her question will be met
Only by silence
"Sawyer," she tries again
Only the wind in answer
She falls down in tears,
Watering the Earth as she
Mourns the loss of her
Only friend
James "Sawyer" Ford, 2004
What's in a name?
Shakespeare said that
He was right, too
But,
What is in a name?
Everything
Everything is
A name tells a story which
Only the wise can read
His name tells a story;
A story without a happy ending
Seemingly, anyway
Death is a gift,
He decided
With death comes the
Much-needed peace and quiet that
You see in the
Still of their bodies, the
Serene expressions on their faces
Yes,
Death is a gift
Roy DeSoto, 1976
You can't blame him;
It's kill or be killed
You can't blame him for
Keeping secrets,
Telling lies
After all,
What's one man's life to millions of dollars?
Dixie McCall, 1976
He's been watching her for
Quite some time now
Watching,
Waiting,
Watching,
Waiting
He's ready to pounce
She's ready to stop him
Experience is perhaps the
Greatest gift of life
When
Breathing
Is a reflex,
When
Blood and brain
Rush together,
A beautiful melody
Playing to the same rhythm of
A beating heart
She has experience
Plenty of it
But he stalks her so swiftly;
Like an animal, almost
She's its prey
You can tell when
Someone stops caring,
Because
They don't just ignore you;
They are actively indifferent
The man,
The one following her
She cannot see his face;
He wears a hat pulled down low;
But she can hear his breathing and
Watch the way he walks
She would scream at the
Flash of a knife
But the flash of red hair,
When his hat slips
It shocks her
Still as the grave,
Because…
… It can't be
It can't be him
She won't believe it
She should have believed it
John Locke, 2004
There are a lot of things
People take for granted
Some,
They just imagine they
Take for granted,
As an excuse to
Feel miserable, and
Misunderstood
Others,
They do take for granted,
Like the belief that
If they walk far enough,
They'll find the ocean
They'll feel its breeze
On their face
Smell the salt,
A rich scent,
Heavy on the air
And they'll run beside it,
And feel the pure,
Beautiful energy
What if they could
Never walk there
In the first place?
Yes, there are a lot of things
That
People take for granted
Roy DeSoto, 1976
The knife gives way,
Shrouded in victory
The window gives way,
And he leaps into the
Warm summer's night
The string gives way,
And the bag falls to the ground
A gift of green bills
Scatter about his feet;
They are bowing to him—
At least he can imagine they are
He picks up the greatest gift,
And realizes
What didn't give way:
His conscience
His heart fills with bitter remorse
John Gage, 1976
The days fall away like
Autumn leaves
He doesn't feel anything
But the pain his underneath
And it's real
His partner doesn't,
Either
Feel anything
But in a different way,
Somehow
Almost as if the man with red hair
Has blocked it all out
It's been weeks since
She died, but
Nothing's changed
As if time's standing still for her,
Giving her another chance to
Breathe, another chance to
Smile, and another chance to
Experience life,
Not death
He looks up abruptly as
Roy walks into the room
He smiles
Because Roy will
Distract him, and
Make him feel better
Roy always does
He stands up
He walks towards Roy,
Starts to say hello—
He shakes his head for Johnny to sit back down
So he sits
Roy leaves
John waits for a while
He doesn't come back
What if Roy will never
Come back, what if Roy's...?
John leaps up and chases after
He's never far behind
James "Sawyer" Ford, 2004
What he would do for
A relief from this pain
Just
One fleeting moment,
Was all he needed
One moment was
Enough to look
Look back and think,
Wow. I've done the right thing.
But has he?
He'll never know,
Because that moment
Didn't come soon enough
And now he's dead
Kate Austen, 2004
Research is easy
But it's easier
When you know
Just who it is you're researching
How many names
Can one man have?
She has decided that
For him,
There is no limit
She runs through them all again:
David McLarsty,
Harry Bishop,
Joey Deshoneal,
Roy DeSoto,
Eli Harbor,
Ricky Michaelson,
And
Anthony Cooper
Too many names
And it doesn't make sense
Wasn't there supposed to be a
"Sawyer" in there?
Roy DeSoto, 1976
Got back late from
Work again
Kids stayed up waiting till
Nine-thirty
At least they have a dad
Had to wake up early
For work again the next morning,
But this gig was worth it:
Two million dollars?
Why,
That's enough for
A vacation to Australia!
John Locke, 2004
He used to,
But now he can hardly remember
Why his name is John
Wasn't John the
Name of a friend of his
Father's?
Something like that,
Anyway
Who knows,
And who cares?
It's all the same to him
And he has
Worse problems, now
Walking,
The ability to walk,
Was a gift
But it's been taken away
Why does
Nothing go right for him?
John Gage, 1976
Maybe he's being paranoid, but
Roy seems to be acting
Not himself
The guy hasn't talked to him
For hours
Hasn't talked to
Any of the firemen,
For that matter
Cap called Roy into his office
He's waiting for him to come out now
But he wonders if
Anything will have changed
When he does
Roy DeSoto, 1976
They're getting suspicious
Not good
He's not acting like himself and
He knows it, but
He can't seem to
Keep going the
Same way he used to
After all,
Dixie was a friend
She'd never done anything wrong
Certainly nothing to deserve…
What she got
He scolds himself now,
For being weak
After all,
It's killed or be killed
Humans weren't made to
Cater to each others' needs
They are just animals
He forces a smile when
He passes Johnny in the garage
Hopefully
He doesn't actually
Know anything and is just
Worried like everyone else
He wonders again why
Everyone worries about him
It's not like
He deserves it, and frankly,
It's not typical for
The other guys to
Worry so much
Gosh-
He must be ripping at the seams!
Kate Austen, 2004
She beats the ground,
She pounds the ground,
Beside the dead man's grave
She beats it to a rhythm:
Why, why, why
Did this
Happen to me?!
Why, why, why
Did this
Happen to you?!
It is hardly beautiful,
But it makes her cry anyway
John Locke, 2004
'
If he could just
Tell someone,
Maybe things would
Turn out all right
But deep down inside of him,
He knows that can't happen
How can he tell someone
When he has no words with
Which to speak?
The tubes,
The ones in his arms
Ugly things,
But they'll keep him alive
Not for long, but
Maybe it would be long enough
John Gage, 1976
A great big mess
That's what this is
He's been following Roy
For a week, yet
He still doesn't believe
What he's been seeing
He tugs his sweaty shirt
Away from his chest
He wishes he was somewhere else…
And that's when he sees it—
The front door of the
DeSoto residence
Slams shut and
Roy stalks out, fast
Roy walks to his car, and…
He drives away
A few moments later,
Joanne runs out after him,
But she's too late
He's probably out of the neighborhood and
Cruising the freeway by now
Joanne cries out, but
Where are the kids?
It's Saturday,
They're not at school
…. Oh no….
….. Please, no….
He feels weak and
Sinks to his knees in the
Rough grass
So Roy took the kids and
Left Joanne with
Nothing
Roy DeSoto, 1976
The tires screech as
He makes an abrupt U-Turn
A familiar sound, but
He can't leave this time
Somehow… he feels more
Connected with LA than
He had in
Alabama, for example
More connected with
These friends, this family
That's why
He took the kids
And it's why he's going back
He's lost in thought,
And maybe that's why
He crashes, but,
Whatever the cause
His two little kids are
Gone to him
Kate Austen, DATE UNKNOWN
Once she went to
Visit the grave and
Nothing was there, except for
Grass and
A little dirt
It was all gone and
There was nothing left to
Live for
John Locke, 2004
One of his machines is
Beeping;
If he's dying,
Why can he still hear it?
The world is becoming a
Blend of colors,
Getting whiter and whiter and then—
It's gone
John Gage, 1976
He'll get on
Without Roy
It will be
Unfair if he doesn't
After all,
If Roy had cared
He wouldn't have
Kept secrets,
Told lies
He would have stayed long enough to
At least say good-bye
Turns out the man's a
Wanted criminal
Some friend, huh?
So-
Good-bye, Roy
And good riddance
End
EPILOGUE
The man trudges along to
The same rhythm
It's been eating away at him for
Years:
Why, why, why
Did I do this
To you?
Why, why, why
Did I do this
To myself?
The beat helps to
Clear his mind;
And he'll need focus to
Pull this one
60,000,000 bucks?
That's enough to
Pay for a psychologist!