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A Warehouse

C.G. Morelli

    He went each week to gather inspiration. A warehouse. Rusty, aluminum sheets hastily-fitted to a crumbling frame, the termites feasting on its bones. A buckled roof; a simple length of damp wood covered in sprawling ivy.
    Kelly was usually there when he arrived, but not tonight. Instead, a stranger was perched on the decrepit stairs slowly pulling at an unfiltered cigarette, letting the smoke stream casually from his nostrils and up into the flickering glow of a nearby street light. A tangled row of train tracks paralleled the adjacent street.
    “Have you seen Kelly?” he asked the bearded stranger.
    “Naw. Just in the area hopin’ he’ll drop in. Said he might be round by seven.” He nodded and allowed silence and the distant rumbling of a train to take over the conversation for awhile.
    “You celebrate Halloween this year?” he asked the bearded stranger when the silence became too thick to bear.
    “Naw, not really. Bunch of churches hosted what they called a ‘Jesus Fest’ that night, so not too many trick-or-treaters.”
    “Jesus fest?”
    “Yep. Almost like goin’ to Sunday school on Halloween. Don’t seem right, does it? Guess they must think dressin’ up as a vampire and panhandlin’ for candy upsets the Lord somethin’ considerable.” The strangers laughed nervously for a moment until another vehicle pulled up to the warehouse and flicked off its lights. Vic popped out of the car with an unlit cigarette pressed behind his ear. He limped over to the two gentlemen, a standard, wild-eyed smirk on his face.
    “Howdy, gents. Kelly said he’ll be round by 7:30...8:00 at the latest. My brother’s never been known as the punctual type.”
    The bearded stranger nodded his approval while taking another deep drag from his smoke. Then he asked Vic, “How come you’re limpin’ so bad tonight?”
    “Ah, the old wound’s actin’ up on me again. Got myself bit by a brown recluse a ways back. Sucker was hidin’ in one of my socks. Doc told me the bite was necreo-lithic or somethin’. Said the poison’d start eatin’ away at my skin.”
    “You mean necrotic?”
    “Yeah, that’s it. Gave me some kinda medicine for it. Bout a week later, damn leg was blown up puffier than a birthday balloon. So, I went back to the infirm-ry. Doctor says, ‘you waited too long, you gonna die.’ I told him it’s time I find a doctor with a little more faith in me. Took a whole doggone year to recover from it, but I’m a whole man again, but for the slight hobble.”
    Vic lit his smoke as the streetlight continued its lazy, flickering dance. The same train that was but a mere vibration in the distance was now bouncing down the tangled tracks and past the warehouse. “Whole thing reminds me of a joke I once heard,” he shouted over the racket. “Two guys campin’ out in the woods and they come across a copperhead. One guy backs up, but the other ain’t so quick. He just stands there and that snake jump up and bite him right on his manhood. His friend told him to wait at camp while he runs off to the doctor’s to find out what to do. So he asks the doc, ‘What should I do? My friend just got bit by a snake.’ Doc says, ‘Well, you need to take your campin’ knife and cut a small slit above the bite and suck out the poison.’ So the man heads back to camp to see his friend. When he gets there, the friend is in pretty bad shape. Asks, ‘Well, what’d the doc say?’ Friend looks him square in the eye and says, ‘You gonna die, man.’”
    They commenced to laughing and leaning on each other and coughing up little puffs of smoke in between until Vic’s phone rang.
    “Oh, is that so?” he replied after listening to someone speak for a few moments. “Ok. Well, I’ll let ‘em all know.” He deposited the phone back in his pocket and gave both strangers an apologetic glance. “Look’s like Kelly’s held up. Don’t know if he’ll be able to make it tonight.”
    The train was trailing off in the distance again. “Well, got me a few things I need to get done tonight,” said the bearded stranger as he slinked off across the tracks and into the darkness. The other stranger nodded and shook hands with Vic. He didn’t get what he’d come for. And yet, somehow, he had.
    “Tell Kelly I’ll catch up with him next week,” he said. Then he hopped in his car and drove off.



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