Valhalla Towers

When I was younger, I left my name behind. Some cops beat it out of me. I was powerless and alone and they knew it. So they ripped it out of me like only cops can do.

Fucking pigs. They left me alone on a cell floor, gasping, flat on my face. I couldn’t even see their faces, just the gang, one after another taking their turn. That’s all they are, an official gang. Like the mafia.

Here’s a lesson the cops taught me that day: if you want to pound the fuck out of someone, use a phone book. The pain is the same but your lawyer won’t be able to make a case out of it; you’ll be lucky if your lawyer even believes you. Lawyers don’t get the phone book. They’re not even listed. Protection from guys like me I suppose.

Now my name’s Odin. The legendary all-father, though I doubt if I have any kids. I always took precautions. No attachments that’s the most important thing. No one to rely on and no one to rely on me. It’s the safest choice in an insane world. Only a fool gives the state something to hold over his head. Kids are like that, partners are like that, families are like that—weaknesses.

I’ve managed to remove anyone who might remember my old name from my life. My family was a disappointment though I know they think that I’m the real disappointment. Funny that, can we both be right?

But it’s sad in a way. My parents are probably dead by now. I never saw them at the end like estranged children do in movies. Never had our chance to say goodbye.

My brother is probably some successful retiree with a great pension and a white smile. This bastard who used to get me into trouble and beat the hell out of me is a probably a big shot now. He was always into stocks and shit like that, trying to pick the winners. I bet he’s spending his summers at the cottage in Muskoka and his winters down in Florida or the Cayman Islands. Or maybe he got fucked by the crash of 2008, maybe he blew his brains out when he realized they would take his yacht .

But Odin, an immortal name, is infinitely mortal. Though when I took the name, I thought I would live forever. Time passes. I’m an old man now. But when Odin was young, he rode the rails. Stole what he needed. Became a self-declared herald for anarchism. A living example of how one can live outside the fucked up system. No job, no pension, no home, no family, no email, no phone number, no bank account: all those things that make you a real person. I guess Odin was a fitting name.

I had some great loves. Women like me, travellers. All so beautiful. Freedom is beautiful. If you don’t know that yet, I feel sorry for you. But now they are all gone. Let go of the life I suppose, found homes, needed something more. I wish them only the best.

Last year, my life caught up with me. I smashed my left knee jumping off a moving train in Winnipeg. It was obliterated on a section of track. It was dark, I’d done it a million times, but just once is all it takes. They found me the next morning. It was too late to do anything.

Against my will, Winnipeg is now my home.

Social services paid me a visit in the hospital. They told me that I was now disabled. I was entitled to a monthly pension, housing and access to food banks. All those traps the state lays out for its deviants. All they needed was my social insurance number and a piece of photo identification to start the process.

I laughed in their warm, smiling faces. Do-gooder fucks!

In the end, they got their way but they never got those numbers out of me let alone my name. That’s my secret. Something they’ll never take. Cops or social workers, it’s all the same to me.

So here I am: standard apartment in an indistinct building, scooter with annoying horn (I spray painted an anarchist A on the back of my chair), bars on the wall to help me in the bathroom. They made me get a phone and I managed to get them to pay the bill. They want to check up on me: Prisoner 887 904 114 in room 1902. Prison guards are unnecessary in this jail. Disability ensures compliance.

But I’m saving up for a train trip, maybe back to Hamilton. Not like the old days but I miss the rails, I miss the speed. Miss the wind on my face on warm summer nights under the stars. Miss freedom, real freedom.

I never asked to live forever. I never asked for anything from anyone. I don’t need anything.

Least of all you reading my story. Now piss off and get back to your cell.