Tuesday Morning
As we are walking outside. In the daylight, no storms are going on.
"Hey, Mark, why do we have to wipe the floors and clean everything every day? We see some very delicate stuff here."
"After almost a decade of working here, I've learned a few things. Is that the place that needs to be kept neat and tidy? Some of the scientists are clean freaks who are concerned about bacteria and whatnot.
“That still sounds like a stupid reason.”
“You got anything to add, Wade?.”
All I get is a head shake no. It's so funny. I have gotten so used to the silence when I'm around him.
“You guys wanna go hit up a waffle house?” I ask.
“No, I have to get my kids to school. My wife is late for her nurse's shift.”
I look at Wade. He takes a deep drag of his cigarette. He points to Mark's car. Wade always makes me smile when he does this.
“Yes, I can give you a ride home afterwards.”
I get a thumbs up.
“See you later, Mark.”
“Later, gators.”
Wade and I arrive at the Waffle House, which remains very popular in our area given the scarcity of breakfast options. Getting somewhere in this town often requires a 30- to 40-minute trip. The waitress gets to us as soon as she can. She clearly seems exhausted, close to fifty, and is probably about to leave work shortly.
“What can I get you, Suges?" Asked the waitress. In a friendly tone
“Give me a #3 breakfast omelet with hash browns and some coffee, please.”
Wade just puts two fingers up and shows his coffee mug.
“Okay, I will get your order in, boys.”
“So Wade, how do you normally order when you're not around me or Mark?”
He just smiles and looks away.
Wade is just a little shorter than me. He is very dark, as if he spends all of his time outside, with black short hair and a very slender build. He appears to have served in the military, as he is constantly gazing around and analyzing everything. I can probably count on one hand how many times I've heard him speak since I moved here and started working at the institute. He has a thick, gravelly voice that suggests he's been smoking for sixty or seventy years. I asked Mark once why he never speaks. He stated that something happened to him while he was in high school. He isn't sure what's wrong with his throat, but talking for extended durations is really discomforting.
We enjoy our food and leave a pretty good tip for the waitress.
While dropping Wade at his single wide. I have no wonder where all of his money goes. With the money we're making, he should have a house or something by now. He lives about two blocks from Mark, and I live about ten minutes away in an apartment building. They ultimately constructed it for individuals who live close to the institute. Even though my family owns the building, I still pay rent there. Good old Dad understands how to kick folks while they're down.
I make it back home and watch some television. It didn’t take me too long to get used to working these late shifts. My difficulty is that I've never been able to fall asleep right away when I go home. My brain won't switch off, therefore I need to calm it down before I can sleep. My ears don't hear that ridiculous bird. Perhaps it decided to pester someone else this morning?
Tuesday Evening
Around three o'clock in the evening, my eyes open. I’m usually pretty good about getting the normal seven hours of sleep each day. I perform a few push-ups and a few sit-ups. Since I'm in my early twenties, my metabolism prevents me from gaining too much weight, so I'm still rather fit, but I'm fairly certain that will change in the next few years. However, I'm getting really bad at remembering to do my workouts.
After playing one of my games, I am getting really close to beating this one new one. I can’t wait to see the ending. Ha ha, I bet it's going to be so epic. As I turn off my game, I pop some Hot Pockets in the microwave. Since the institute has a decent lunch ready for me, I generally just prepare a snack. However, my lack of ability to cook is a real problem. The only type of cooking I know how to do is boil noodles.
My car takes me back to work, where I stop in at the check-in station.
“Hey Jeff, what happened to that storm?”
“Good evening, Mr. Leif. It's still on its way.”
“Well, I will be looking out for it. See you later.”
While parking my car and clipping on my badge, I say hello to my good friend John. He scarcely acknowledges my existence, and I clear my third floor with ease. Mark and Wade are already chowing down in the cafeteria.
“How do you guys always get done before me?”
I notice Mark is regrowing his beard. He stands a bit under six feet and has sandy blonde hair, much like myself. He doesn't have a full beard yet, but it appears he's working on it. When I arrived in the winter, he had a full beard. Then, when spring arrives, he cuts it off altogether. He's approaching forty, though.
"We're professionals, rookie. We finish shit quickly so we can take a longer break." Mark responds with a wink and a laugh.
“That still doesn't explain why your guys still beat me by like twenty minutes.”
"Have you ever considered the possibility that your mental abilities are a little slow?"
I look over at Wade, and as soon as our eyes meet, he slowly glances away.
“Ugh, nut tards.” I should be moving faster than these old guys.
“Do you really want to know, kid?” He says tauntingly.
“Just spit it out, old man.”
“You have more rooms on the third floor than we do. I only have to clean six rooms. While Wade over here only does five.”
“What a freaking rip-off! How come it's not more even?
“Well, it goes by floors and what you have to clean on that floor.”
“Want to trade?”
"Sorry, you don't have the clearance to see what I'm taking care of."
I'm almost ninety percent sure he is talking out of his ass, but this is one of those places where they are all about security. He could be telling the truth.
“Whatever, I'm going to get my sandwich.”
I walk up to the line and see Nadine. She is a nice older Spanish lady. She would probably be close to my grandmother's age. She is also the one who keeps me in supply of pickles around here.
“Hey, senoir Leif. What sandwich would you like today?”
“Please give me a Reuben today, Nadine.”
She rings me up and slides an extra five pickles on my plate like she's being really sneaky about it.
“Bye, Senoir Leif.”
“Bye, Nadine.”
While walking back with my sandwich, I observe Mark and Wade sipping their coffees. I finish my sandwich and take great joy in my pickles.
“I don't see why you eat so many pickles every night. Are you pregnant or something?”
I laugh at Mark sarcastically while crunching another pickle at him.
He just shakes his head.
“Come on, Wade, let's leave the man with his pickles. I feel like a smoke break.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Whatever, losers, you can't see greatness when it's right in front of you.”
They walk off snickering at me.
While I wait for them to return, my taste buds experience an endless amount of delight. Because you have to go through a security check every time you go outside, I don't always go on smoke breaks.
When they get back, we head up to the fourth floor with our supplies.
At the end of the hall is my large, grumpy bear. How am I going to annoy him today? It's just an idea that escapes my lips before I have a chance to consider the consequences.
“Hey Rex, guess how I escaped Iraq?”
He gives me a questioning look.
“I-ran”
Several things occur simultaneously. He looks at me in a way I have never experienced before. It strikes every part of my body. I simply appear like a deer caught in headlights and am in a frozen terror. while listening to the other two take deep breaths. I can't even breathe or move. This is the first time I've seen a man who has killed several people look at me as if he wants to kill me as well.
This time, I might have gone too far. Why am I constantly poking bears? Most likely, I really hate bullies. Come on, Leif. This explains why you didn't go to college and get a high-paying job.
In high school, I may have gotten into an argument because someone was talking trash about a girl I knew. It was a whole thing; the guy ended up with a bloody nose, and the police were called.
He walks over to me and starts getting a Cheshire grin.
At last, the air reaches my lungs, allowing me to breathe.
I might have just peed my pants a little.
Why am I constantly starting shit? My lips just let it go, even while my brain says no.
“You do know I used to kill people, don't you, Leif?”
No sound really comes out of my mouth even though it's open. All I can really do is shake my head yes.
He gets right in front of my face, almost nose to nose, as he's looking down on me.
"You're going to realize that life isn't always a joke one day, little buddy." As he speaks, I can feel his spit striking me in the face.
"If you don't figure it out quickly, your last day will arrive sooner than you think."
I take an audible gulp that everyone could hear in the room.
He pulls out what I think is a gun at first glance; the hair on my arm starts to stand before I realize it’s the scanner for my badge. He puts it right up close to my chest.
“Beep”
“Mark. Wade.” He yells louder than I have heard him speak before.
"Prepare your fucking cards for scanning."
I hear some rustling behind me.
While never taking his eyes off me, he scans their cards.
“Get moving, ladies; these floors aren't going to clean themselves.”
We rush around knocking the mops over while attempting to prepare the carts.
I swear he does not take his eyes off me the whole time we are cleaning the fourth floor. It's the most nerve-wracking night of my life. I keep checking to make sure he's not pulling his gun out.
He just keeps glaring at me like I'm a bug until we finish and get back on the elevator to leave. The last thing I see of him is his cold, dead eyes staring intently at me.
As soon as the elevator doors close, Mark starts dying laughing. Then says without taking a breath.
“Kid, you got more shit for brains than anyone I have ever met.”
“What the hell were you thinking trying an army joke with him?”
“I thought for sure he was going to draw his weapon on you.” I look over, and even Wade is just smiling.
“I think I need to go change my shorts.” I mumble.
That just starts both of them dying laughing.
Marks on the ground on one knee while supporting himself with a mop, cackling away.
Wade has already laughed so hard, he is coughing nonstop.
I still feel a little numb inside, so all I can do is smile and try not to fall down. Rex staring at me the whole time was one of the most nerve-wrenching things I have ever been through. My legs feel like they are going to give at any moment. It felt like a lion was watching me the whole time, and I was some baby zebra.
We make it down and change into our regular clothes. I check my underwear just to be safe.
“Yep, it's clean.”
That starts the guys into another fit of laughter.
“I cannot wait to tell my wife what kind of hornet nest you kicked today.”
“Yeah, glad to have some entertainment value.”
“No kidding, kid.”
“It's been one thing after another since you've been hanging out with us.”
“If I can ask one thing of you, kid. Never change…”
We walk out to our cars without saying anything more. There's no asking if anyone wants breakfast. Mark and Wade can probably tell I'm a little shook up. The clouds are looking a little dark for sunrise. You can tell a storm is about to come in. My car starts up, and I make my way home. While walking into my apartment, I pour myself some orange juice. The glass slips out of my hands, and I just start cackling like a loon. The laughter does not stop for a good ten minutes. Wow, that was the most nervous laughter I have ever laughed at. I feel ten times better now that I got that out of my system.
Rex’s death stare is the last thing I see before falling asleep.
Wednesday, August 18, 2032 Evening
Lightning flashes over the sky. There is no rainfall. There's no breeze. White lightning danced endlessly across the sky.
An earthquake awakens me. With steely nerves, I immediately get out of bed. Then it happens again. It's not an earthquake, but lightning striking the ground with such intensity that it feels like one. My hand opens the window frame and I peek outside. The sky is almost entirely dark. Even the sun appears to be hiding. Better give Mark a call.
“Hello,” says Mark.
“Dude, are you seeing this?”
“Yeah kid, calm down. We have been watching it for the past hour.”
“Is this even safe to drive in?” My voice is higher than normal.
“We see cars on the road. As far as I can tell, the radio is not saying anything about staying inside your homes. If you want, after I pick up Wade, I can swing by and pick you up.”
“Yeah, that's fine. Oh, and Mark, thanks.”
“No problem, kid; be ready thirty minutes before eight.”
“Yeah, see you soon.”
For the majority of the evening, my gaze was drawn to the lightning as it danced across the sky. My stomach began making hunger noises as I was watching the show, so I decided to go for exquisite dining and make some ramen noodles. While cooking, you could still see lightning crackling across the sky. It happens every nine seconds or so, followed by another. The show is so good I grab my ramen and a drink and take it out on my small balcony to watch. It's probably an unwise thing to do. Time seems to just pass by, and before I know it, it is already seven twenty-eight. Wowza, I jump up, throwing clothes off to the shower.
As I finish my shower and stumble around my room throwing clothes on, I hear a honk out the window. Grabbing my ID tag and wallet, I run out the door and down the steps because they are quicker than taking the elevator. While dashing towards his truck, there's a loud boom when I’m at the halfway point. Man, that's loud on the ears.
Getting in the truck I check my watch to notice it’s seven thirty-six.
“You're late, kid.”
“I know, I know.”
Wade just laughs in the front seat.
Mark guns it, and we are driving down the street.
“Have you guys ever seen it this bad?”
Mark just shakes his head. “I have seen many storms worse than this one growing up in Louisiana, but never with no rain and no wind.”
“Yeah, me too. Wait, you're from Louisiana? How come you don't have an accent?”
“I lived ten miles from the Bayou until I was nine; then my family moved to the mountains after a particularly nasty hurricane came through and destroyed our house, cars, and everything we owned.”
There's a very solemn quietness after he finishes his sentence. I can tell from his eyes he is remembering something tragic that no kid should have gone through.
“Parents moved to North Carolina after that and never looked back. They said they could never go through an experience like that again.”
We drove in silence the rest of the way to the institute. The whole time there is not a single drop of rain.
“Hey Jeff, are you safe in that booth of yours?” Mark says
He just laughs. “Probably not Mark, but I have already double- and triple-checked with my boss, and he says it shouldn’t be an issue.”
“That saying, it's not his ass sitting out here in it.”
All of us have a good laugh as Jeff waves us through. We pull through and find a parking spot. The air itself feels static when we exit the truck. Nor is there a whisper of wind.
“Does it kinda seem like we are in the eye of a hurricane or something?” I say while looking at Mark.
“Why are you asking me for? I'm not a meteorologist.”
We walk in and head towards the check-in.
“Hey John, you see the weather outside?” I say
“Yeah, I sent my daughter to her mother’s two counties over.”
“She said there's sunshine over there, but she can still see darkness over the mountains our way.”
He checks us in, and we walk towards our lockers.
“That might be the most personal John has ever gotten with me.” I say towards Wade.
Mark behind us grunts. “That’s just how bad this storm is. It has everyone worried.”
Wade just nods, and we pack up our stuff and head to our different floors.
It's pretty much a routine at this point, so I listen to my music as I finish my part and head to the cafeteria while dreaming about some pickles.
Mark and Wade are already in their spots. Mark is eating some sandwich while Wade seems to be being risky and eating a burrito.
So Wade is the one who will break the stalemate and try Mexican again. Just glad it wasn't me.
A new guy has taken Nadine's place at her sandwich counter. My only thoughts are that he better not cheat me on my pickles.
“Hey new guy, where's Nadine? I say to the stoner kid who looks to be my age.
“She called in because of the storm.” He says very slowly.
I think something might be wrong with this guy.
“Ooooookay, can I get a Cuban, good sir?”
He stares at me for an extra three seconds before he starts making it.
Oh my god. I could make the sandwich faster than this guy.
He has to take a second like he's mixing something for a bomb, and he is getting the right formula down in his brain.
“Hey friend, what's your name?”
He just stares at me for an extra second.
“Hamilton.”
Wow, that was the wrong thing to ask; now he has stopped making the sandwich altogether.
“Hey Hamilton, can I get a couple of extra pickles with my sandwich?”
I figure if I throw in his name and act all nice to him, he might give me some more.
“We are only allowed to give one pickle per sandwich.”
“Ah, come on. It will be our little secret.”
“Sorry, but my boss said I can only give one pickle per sandwich.”
“What if I donate five dollars in tip money towards you, and you happen to leave some extra pickles next to my sandwich?
“My boss said I can only give one pickle per sandwich.”
I can see this is not going anywhere. He's like a freaking broken record.
After making my sandwich and putting it on my tray, I grab a drink and head over to my buddies.
“What idiot tree did that guy fall out of over there?” As I hint with my eyes to the sandwich guy.
They both look over at the guy. He is just standing there in a daze, not looking at anything and spacing out.
Mark snickers. “Yeah, he's not the brightest bulb in this place.”
“Brightest bulb,” I say. “His momma hit the dim button on his way out.”
Wades is just shaking his head.
“The guy was holding the pickles hostage. He only gave me one.”
“You'll live,” says Mark.
“Hey, you got an extra pickle; give it to me.”
“Sorry, I already gave it to Wade. He was sad he didn't get one.”
“Wade throws his pickles away half the time.”
“He looked like he really wanted one this time.”
I give Wade a look. He just smiles at me. Ugh, these assholes.
We finish our food and head down to go outside. I'm wondering if the clouds are still doing their song and dance.
BOOM!!
As soon as we step outside, we see it strike the ground about a hundred yards from us.
The cigarette that Wade has on his lips falls to the ground.
“Huh.” I hear myself say. “I don't think I have to stand out here while you guys smoke.
The other guys just nod, and we all go back inside. It's still a little early, but we figure, what the heck, let's go and see if we can get started on the fourth floor. We round up our carts and head towards the elevator.
