TRUE PEOPLE
(C) 2007

A short story by
David Rowell Workman

PART ONE



1.


I sell furniture.
The cheap kind made from particleboard.
With a copy of woodgrain glued to paper.
And the paper glued to the particleboard.
With cardboard backing.
My customers are usually in a hurry.
Or almost broke.
Or both.
The shop belonged to my father.
When he died I got the store.
My father had expensive furniture in the old days.
Every curviture was hand carved.
Every angle was a collection of sweat and time.
My father was a true craftsman.
He worked hard.
He sold his name with each chair, table and dresser.
He died saying son, take over the business.
He said be a craftsman.
He said be honest to your customers.
He said something I couldn't hear.
He let out a breath and died.
So I got the store.
My sister got ten thousand dollars.
My mother got more.
The store brings in two thousand a week.
On a good day.
I hadn't a good day since my father died.
I don't use handcrafted furniture.
I don't care about the customer.
I don't have that kind of time.
I have to make ends meet.
To pay the bills I needed to cut back.
I soon lost all my father's customers.
They said where did you get this crap.
They said your father never woulda sold this crap.
They were right.
But my father wasn't here.
My father was dead.
I had no interest in craftsmanship.
I had expenses.
I found a plot of land.
The land was in the country.
I wanted to raise LLamas.
I'd never seen a LLama.
I heard they brought in a lot of money.
I didn't have enough capital to buy one yet.
November hadn't been a good month either.
I'm an optomist.
I knew things would get better.
A week ago my wife left me.
She left me for a piano teacher.
A skinny man with a bony face and dark brown eyes.
He walked like an ostrich.
The ostrich bought a bookcase from me the week before.
I told him the bookcase was made from the finest particleboard.
I told him it was designed by a craftsman in Europe.
I told him lightweight and flimsy was the way to go.
He believed me.
I have an honest face.
It's what has kept the business going.
That and my dead father's repetation.
The piano teacher shook my hand and signed the papers.
Hell of a nice guy despite the way he walked.
I delivered the bookcase to his house the next day.
I saw a chance to sell him oodles of my fine furniture.
He had a nice house that smelt of money and breeding.
It was green stucco house in a quiet neighborhood.
The grass was forest green.
Everybody on thepiano teacher's block owned a minivan.
Kids played street hockey in the cul-de-sac.
The smell of a barbaque was in the air.
He shook my hand when I arrived.
He said you have excellent service.
I said my father taught me the value of a good customer.
I said it like I believed it.
I dabbed a hankerchief to my eyes.
I said dear old dad.
He said you're a good guy Mister Krondl.
I said thank you Mister Luchejko.
I said I like you too.
I didn't mention he looked funny when he walked.
He shook my hand twice more.
His hands were moist.
I grit my teeth and smiled.
I noticed he had bony fingers.
It was like holding a handful of twigs.
He said I'll give you free piano lessons I like you so well.
I said I have a tin ear.
I said my wife likes the piano.
He said fine send her over.
She hasn't been back since.
She left a message on the answering machine.
There was a piano playing in the background.
It was playing something of Chopin's in D minor.
She said she was finally happy.
She said Mr. Luchejko was upset with me.
She said Mr. J knew I hated my father.
She said he also knew I hated furniture.
She said the furniture business was a dead end.
She said the bookcase fell apart.
That's all she said.
The answering machine ran out of tape.
I took myself out to dinner after closing.
I needed to cheer up.
I was glad we didn't have children.
Children would have complicated things.
I suddenly felt lower than my bowells.
I had to snap out of my depression.
I had to make plans.
I had to get on with my life.
I thought about Llamas.
I decided to go to the zoo someday and see what they looked
like.
I didn't know what to do with myself that night.
I thought about getting drunk.
I remembered I didn't drink.
I didn't want to go home to an empty bed.
I tried a movie.
It was a love story.
A story about some guy with kids.
A story about the wife dying and a new wife moving in.
A story about trust.
I gigled through the funeral scene.
I almost threw up during the love scene.
I cried during the closing credits.
A woman felt sorry for me and gave me her popcorn.
I tried a walk in the cool night air.
The moon hung next to a nasty black cloud.
Then it disappeared behind the cloud.
Rain came down.
The air smelled of ozone.
Big drops plopped down on my bald spot.
I pretended not to notice.
I walked to a cobbled bridge.
A heavy sign said it was an historical bridge.
It was built by the founding fathers.
My father proposed to my mother on that bridge.
He accidently dropped the ring into the water.
My mother said yes anyway.
I leaned on the railing and looked into the water.
The water was murky.
The sky was frantic.
I heard a rumbling above me.
A wind descended on me.
The wind whipped wildly at my clothes.
I grabbed the bridge railing for safety.
One of my shoes blew off.
My shoe plumeted into the water.
I saw a flash of light.
I fell helplessly to the wet cobbled bridge.
I don't remember hitting the ground.


I woke up staring up at the dark cloud.
It moved away from me.
The rain had stopped.
I could see the moon again.
The moonlight was fuzzy.
I was lying on my back on the bridge.
I was freezing.
A face suddenly replaced the moon.
It was fuzzy too.
A man's voice said what's up bub?
I tried to talk but my tongue felt like a sheepskin wallet.
A woman's voice said he's drunk all right.
A woman's voice said he drunk and naked.
A man's voice said you broke some laws tonight.
A man's voice said you're under arrest bub.



2.


The holding cell was cold.
The wooden bench was cold.
I was still freezing.
The concrete floor I was lying on smelled of urine and bleach.
I wasn't naked anymore.
I was wearing blue fatigues.
No belt.
No shoes.
The door to the cell opened.
The guard said get up and behaivor yourself.
I got up from the floor.
My head felt numb.
I tried to focus on the guard.
His face was a blur.
I said I was innocent.
I said I think I was hit by lightning.
The guard said sure but why were you naked?
I said the lightning must have ripped off my clothes.
The guard said uh-humn.
He led me out of the cold cell.
He said it's time to book you.
He said we didn't find your clothes.
He asked me my name.
I said it's Vincent Krondl.
I said I own a furniture store.
I said my wife left me and I was depressed.
I said I was walking in the rain when the storm hit.
I said I was caught in the storm on the bridge.
I said I lost my shoe in the water.
He said uh-humn.
He sat me on a bench by his desk.
I had a sharp pain in my head.
I rubbed my eyes.
I could see clearly now.
I looked at the guard and fell off the bench.
He said what's wrong with you?
He said you have to much to drink?
He said I really get sick of you drunks.
He said you should be home with your wife and kids.
I said I don't have a wife anymore.
I said I don't have any kids.
I said you've got tenticles growing out of your head.
He said shut up or I'll lock you down.
He said it and spittle oozed down his chin.
I stared at the tenticles wiggling on his head.
The guard's eyes drooped down to his chin.
His lips were puffy and snarled.
I said your face is hideous.
I rubbed my eyes again.
The guards face stayed the same.
I said I must have been hurt worse than I thought.
The guard said uh-humn.
I felt numb again.
I told the guard something was wrong.
I felt myself falling to the floor.

When I woke I could see again.
I was lying in a hospital bed.
The walls were white.
The sheets were white.
I was drapped in a white gown.
The gown didn't have a back.
My butt was cold.
The room smelled like the floor of the holding tank.
The nurse next to me, taking my blood pressure, had horns.
The horns were like elephant tusks.
The cream-colored tusks shot out of her head next to her pointy
ears.
Her hair was dark and stringy.
She had the body of an Armadillo.
Her uniform bulged in the wrong places.
Her lips were flabby and swollen.
She said so you're awake.
She said how do you feel?
I said I think I have a brain tumor.
I told her what she looked like.
She laughed at me and left the room.
I didn't laugh.
I knew I was dying.
My father died of a brain tumor.
I figured it was the furniture polish.
I got up from my bed.
I felt woozy.
Getting up from my bed I tripped over a bed pan.
I stumbled to the bathroom.
I made it to the sink and turned on the cold water.
I splashed my face and looked into the mirror.
My face was a blur in the glass.
I rubbed my eyes.
My face was still a blur.
I took a washcloth from the towel rack and ran it across the
mirror.
It didn't help.
The lightning must have affected my brain.
I must be suffering from dilusions.
Or
I must be insane.
I opted for delusions.
Being insane didn't sound like much fun.
Sort of like being divorced.
My head began to clear some.
I walked to the door and peeked into the hallway.
A cop sat in a chair next to my room.
He was reading a gun magazine.
His face was as round as a balloon.
His complexions was spotted with open sores.
He had an ear planted on the top of his head.
I said to myself you are insane Vincent.
I told myself I had to get away or they would lock me up.
I saw a man with a scaley face coming toward my room.
He was wearing a doctors uniform.
I dashed into bed.
I pulled the sheet over my face.
I heard the door open.
The doctor said Mister Krondl, can you hear me?
I said yes I can hear you.
He said are you feeling any pain?
I said my head hurts.
He said you've suffered a nasty trauma.
He said there is a nasty bump on your head.
He said your blood pressure is through the roof.
I said I'm having vision problems.
He said tell me what kind.
I said everyone looks like a monster.
He said is there any insanity in your family.
I jumped from the bed and covered the doctor with the sheet.
I hit him with the plastic bed pan from the floor.
Plastic shards scattered the room.
The doctor said calm down Mister Krondl or I will have to sedate
you.
I punched him in the head.
I think I broke two of my fingers.
The doctor collapsed.
I pulled him onto the bed and took his clothes off him.
His body was as ugly underneth the clothes.
Something whithered around inside his belly.
It made a screeching nasal sound.
I hit it with the broken bed pan.
The monster doctor didn't move.
I dressed in his clothes.
I covered him up in my covers.
I crept to the door.
Peeking out I saw the guard was dozing.
I opened the door wide and stepped into the hall.



3.


I left the hospital grounds but I wasn't sure where to go.
I knew the police would be looking for me soon.
So would a mental intitution.
So would several mental intitutions.
They were probably taking bids on me.
Everyone I passed in the hospital corridors were monsters.
Snouty-faced, tenticle-headed, bug-infested: you get the idea.
Monsters, monsters everyone.
So were the pedestrians on the side walk outside.
So were the shopkeepers.
Taxi drivers.
Hot dog vendors.
All ugly.
All monsters.
I embraced my insanity.
On the way to nowhere I ducked into a church.
For some reason I felt safe for the moment.
I walked passed the empty pews.
The cathedral was dark.
I followed a corridor to a dead end.
The dead end had a confessional booth in one corner.
I opened the door and stepped inside.
The bench was real wood, not laminate.
Not a paper photograph of wood.
Mahogany.
There was no cardboard backing on the booth.
That too was real wood.
There was a swoosh sound and a small window opened in the wood
partition.
The priest said tell me of your sin.
I said what is sin?
He said that which is against God.
I said I'm in trouble.
He said what have you done my son.
I said I'm not your son.
I said I am forty-eight years old.
He said I am seventy-two, that makes you my son.
I said I see things.
I said I see horrible things.
I said people's faces are distorted.
I said they look like monsters.
I said I think I have a tumor.
He said I will pray for you, my son.
He said God gives us these burdens to make us better people.
He said I only have three more minutes.
I said oh happy day.
I said I was caught in a nasty storm.
I said Maybe hit by lightning.
I said I really do see monsters.
I told him of the jail and the hospital.
He said I believe you my son.
He said do you think you are insane?
I said I should hope not.
He said good.
He said you have a great gift, my son.
I said how's that?
He said you have the ability to see beyond the flesh.
He said you are seeing the true spirit of man.
I said are my three minutes up?
I rolled my eyes.
He said you are seeing the evil or the true nature of man.
He said God does not give these gifts for no reason.
He said God has given you this power to make a change.
He said deep inside you, you will know what God wants you to
do.
I said really, Father?
He said either that or you're insane.
He said go with God my son.
He said I have to return to my tea now.
He said take care.
I said thanks, Father.
I heard his door creak open.
I opened my door a slit.
I watched him leave.
He covered his face with his hands as he left.
He didn't want me to see his true face.
I wondered if it would be like mine in the mirror.
Like mine in the mirror.
I wondered what that meant.


I left the safety of the cathedral and wandered into a park.
I sat on the park bench.
My eyes were heavy.
My mind was cluttered.
I needed to think.
Was it God?
Did God do this to me?
What was it HE expected me to do.
What good did it do to see people as monsters?
This wasn't a gift.
This was a curse.
By all the fates, this was a curse.
I was sorry I thought I needed to think.
I wanted to call my ex-wife.
I wanted an aspirin.
I wanted to wake up from my nightmare.
A dog strolled over to me and licked my hand.
I jumped out of my seat.
I screamed.
The dog rolled over on its back.
Monsters that walked by stared at me.
Then the monsters strolled away.
I guess they thought I was crazy.
The dog whinned.
I petted the dog's belly.
I wondered if the pooch saw the monsters.
The dog suddenly jumped up and ran away.
It took off after a cat stalking a bird near a redwood.
I suddenly realized something.
The dog looked like a dog.
The cat was a cat.
The bird as always.
Trees and flowers, and grass were fine.
Only people were monsters.
Maybe what the priest said was true.
Maybe I had a gift.
Maybe the cloud decended from heaven, zapped me with lightning
and gave me the gift to see people as they really are.
There was just one problem with that theory.
Why me?
I thought only saints got God's attention.
I've never been a saint.
I'm overweight.
I'm never happy.
I'm just a furniture salesman.
A salesman who sells crap to suckers who heard of my father.
A salesman shunned by his family.
Who has been faithful to his wife.
Only to have the wife run off with a piano player.
Who cares only for money because money is all he knows.
This is the person God gives a gift to.
I suddenly hoped I was insane.
Being insane was less complicated.
I started to fall asleep when something nudged me.
I thought the dog came back.
The voice said hey pal, you okay?
I was afraid to open my eyes.
The voice said you'd better get out of here, the cops are just
around the corner.
The voice said I'll show you a place where you can sleep.
The voice said someplace safe, doctor.
I said doctor?
I opened one eye.
The man had a huge head.
His hair was sparse on top.
His beard was gray-brown.
There were crumbs in his mustache.
His eyes were buried in sunken sockets.
The man said you don't look well.
I opened my other eye.
Proturding from his mouth was a dingy cigarette.
Smoke rose from the cigarette.
I smelled an odor that made me cringe.
The man had a human face.
The man was in need of a bath.
I swayed in my seat.
The scenery spun around me
The man said you're not a doctor at all, are you?
He said you escaped from the hospital didn't ya?
He said doctors don't have dirty fingernails.
He said doctors don't need a shave.
He said doctors probably wear socks with their shoes.
I said I'm tired and hungry.
I said I think I have a tumor.
I said you're the first normal face I've seen in days.
He said is that so.
He lifted me from the bench.
He said you just trust me.
He said you'll be safe with me.


4.

I started having dry heaves.
The dingy man said hang in there.
He said we'll be there soon.
He led me two blocks east.
We passed monster-faced pedestrians.
They stared at us shaking their tenticled, snout-nosed heads.
The dingy man suddenly veered north.
Then he led me to a graveyard.
I said why are we going here?
I said there's nothing here but dead people.
He laughed.
I laughed back.
The laugh was genuine idiocy.
He said we live here.
He said we are the underground people.
He said we hide from the upperground monsters.
He said I mingle with them to find food for the others.
I said you see them too?
He said see what too?
I said see the monsters too.
He said all too well.
He patted me on the back.
I almost fell over.
He led me to a wracked crypt.
The crypt's iron door swung loose on rusty hinges.
Moss covered the brick walls.
A large rat scurried away from us.
The dingy man pushed open the rotted wood door.
We descended into darkness.
He slammed the door shut.
He held my hand.
I said I can't see.
I said it's pitch black in here.
He said watch your step.
We began to walk down a flight of stairs.
I could smell the dankness.
I wondered how he could see in the dark.
I said in a whisper how can you see in the dark?
He said I don't need to see.
He said I been down here a zillion times.
He said don't worry you'll be safe here.
I didn't feel safe.
I felt my bowels pushing at my lower back.
I wanted my bad life back.
I didn't want to see monsters.
I didn't want me wife living with another man.
I hated pianos.
We continued a few more flights.
The man said duck your head.
I didn't duck fast enough and bumped my head.
We emerged into a lanterned cavern.
He said I think this used to be a bomb shelter during world
war two.
He said we found old blankets here.
He said we found old cans of beans.
He said they taste just like new cans of beans.
I looked aroung the empty cavern.
The concrete walls were stained and dripping with water.
Puddles spotted the floor.
There were tables and chairs lined up near the rock walls.
They were made from old caskets.
There were dirty and broken toys scattered on the floor.
The smell of beans filled the dank air.
I said are there others?
He said yes, they're watching you.
He said we are everywhere.
He said we have children.
He said we teach them the dangers of uppergrounders.
He said we don't have many strangers here.
He said come out everyone it's safe.
I saw shadows emerging from the walls.
I saw people in filthy clothing.
Some men.
Some women.
Some children.
Their faces were emotionless.
The man said these are the underground people.
He said you'll be safe here.
He said we are all safe here.
The people came closer into the light.
They all had normal faces.
There were no monsters among the underground people.
I said there must be a hundred people down here.
He said a hundred and thirty.
He said there used to be more.
He said the others got sick and died.
He said most of them were children.
I said how do you feed all these people?
He said we eat the cans of beans.
He said and we grow potatoes.
He said beans and potatoes are good.
He said but we need meat.
The man patted me on the back.
The man said people, people, gather round.
He said I have brought meat.
All the underground people looked at me.


5.

The dingy man had two burly men drag me down a long dirt
corridor.
A young woman stepped from the darkness and stopped them.
She said who is this, Billy?
Billy said, this is dinner.
He said don't even think about it, Liza.
He said move along.
Liza said but he's cute.
Liza said I don't have a mate.
Billy said what happened to Duane?
Liza said someone ate him.
She touched my face.
Her hands were warm and soft.
Her eyes were shiny new marbles.
Her lips were moist and full.
I said my wife just left me.
I said I own my own store.
I said I can cook.
Billy pushed Liza away from me.
Billy said Graf says he's dinner, so he's dinner.
Liza pushed a tuft of her shoulder length hair behind a cute
ear.
Liza said too bad, I can tell he wants me.
She dug her nails into my arm.
I screamed.
She said he looks like a healthy man.
She said there's not many healthy men here.
She stroked my face again.
I wished I was a tough guy.
Tough guys could take two guys easy.
But I was a furniture salesman.
Billy and his friend pushed past Liza.
He put me in a dirt room at the end of the corridor.
There was a coffee can in one corner.
Next to the coffee can were strips of old newspaper.
Next to the newspaper was a tattered issue of LIFE magazine.
On the cover of the magazine was a picture of Cary Grant.
I sighed and stared at the ceiling.
There was a small hole above me.
The small hole looked like a chimney.
A man stood at the open end of the room.
He held an antique rifle.
It had a long barrel.
At the end of the barrel it metal funneled out.
The rifle looked rediculas.
Like the kind Porky Pig used to chase cartoon turkeys with.
The man with the rifle stroked his weapon.
He seemed to see it different than I did.
I said nice rifle.
The man grinned at me.
He didn't have a tooth in his head.
He said beautiful isn't she?
He said I call her Bambie.
I said she looks old.
The man frowned.
He said I killed an uppergrounder with her last week.
He said he was a very fat man.
He said he was fatter than you.
He said we cooked him with potatoes and beans.
I said oh.
I said where did you get the rifle?
He said it came out of the ceiling.
He pointed to the hole above me.
He said a lot of Bambies came out of the hole.
He said we have lots of guns and powder and little round balls.
He grinned again.
He said I heard Liza took a shine to you.
He said too bad you'll be at the wrong end of a fork.
I said I can get you lots of food.
I said I have a whole freezer full of meat at home.
I said I could get you money or a car.
I said would you like a new wooden chair to sit on.
I said all you have to do is let me go.
He scratched his head.
He scratched his whiskered face.
He said Graf said you monsters were crafty.
He said shut up and sit down or I'll shoot you.
He waved the funnel barrel at me.
I sat on the dirt floor.
I said why do you call me a monster.
I said do I look like a monster to you?
He said Graf says it's a figure of speech.
He said if you're not an undergrounder, you're a monster.
He said I thought I told you to shut up.
The man resumed his watch.
He walked back and forth.
He walked for a half hour.
Then he sat down next to the entrance.
In a few minutes he fell asleep.
He snored.
I looked up at the hole.
I wasn't tall enough to reach it.
I was about ten inches too short.
I thought about sneaking past the guard.
I thought about making a run for it.
I thought about Liza, potatoes and beans.
I looked up at the hole again.
I looked at the coffee can.
Suddenly I felt taller.
I felt sorry for the underground people.
But I didn't want to be their lunch.
I quietly got to my feet.
I picked up the coffee can.
I dumped the yellowish content onto the dirt floor.
I placed the coffee can upside down.
I stepped on top of the can.
My fingertips touched the opening in the ceiling.
I felt the warmth of the room on my hand.
I made a silent leap and caught the rim with both hands.
I prayed a silent thank you as I pulled myself into the dark
cavity.
I collapsed in the darkenss.
I tried to slow my breathing.
A drumming pounded my ears from exhursion.
I waited for the guard to yell or begin shooting.
Nothing happened.
I could hear the snoring of the guard.
I moved slowly in the darkness feeling my way around the room.
It was a storage room.
My eyes began to focus in the darkness.
I made out a door.
I could see a sliver of light underneth the door.
The room was filled with wooden crates.
The wood was better than the stuff I had for furniture.
I pried open a loose lid.
I slid my hand around and felt something metal.
I pulled my hand out and looked at the gun.
It was an old automatic.
I could barely make out a nazi insignia.
I dug somemore in the crate.
I pulled out a clip.
The clip was rusty.
Inside the clip were old bullets.
My father told me old bullets could explode.
I tried to put the clip in the gun.
When it wouldn't fit I turned the clip over and tried again.
The clip slid inside the gun.
The snapping echoed in the room.
I hoped the toothless guard didn't hear me.
I hid the gun in the small of my back.
I hoped my waistband would hold it in place.
I pulled the door open as quietly as I could.
I shut the door behind me.
I exhaled a breath.
I couldn't believe I got away.
I couldn't believe I had a weapon.
I couldn't believe I was still thinking about the girl.
I actually believed we could make it work.
If I could just get her to quit eating people.

I was in long hallway.
In the shabby light I made my way to another door.
I turned the knob slowly.
An old sign with a red arrow pointing up read: MUSEUM
I took the flight of stair leading up.
At the top of the stairs I found another door.
I quietly opened the door.
Inside the room were four secuity cameras.
Each screen showed a different view of the museum.
Next to the screens was a refrigerator.
I shut the door behind me and opened the fridge.
I found a sandwich wrapped in cellophane.
A cream soda sat next to it.
I grabbed the food and sat in the chair next to the monitors.
I was chewing half the sandwich when I felt something cold in
my cheek.
It was a gun barrel.
At the other end was a monster wearing a blue jump suit and
a badge.
A patch on his arm read: MUSEUM SECURITY
From his bottom lip protruded a row of razor sharp teeth.
His bumpy brow was scarved by black dregs.
On his shirt a name tag said he ws called Beggs.
I said hello Beggs.
He said how in the smeg did you get in here.
He said that better not be my sandwich and cream soda.
He said you're in big trouble, buddy.
I swallowed the sandwich and put up my hands.


6.

Beggs held a gun to my head.
I said can I put my hands down?
I said my arms are going to sleep.
Beggs said let them sleep.
He said how did you get in here?
He said we're monitored.
He said we have alarms up the wazoo.
He sai getting in here is impossible.
I said you probably won't believe this.
I said below the museum is a tunnel.
I said in the tunnel are a bunch of fanatics that eat people.
I could see the disbelief in his red eyes.
I said they wanted me to play the roll of barbeque beef.
I said I was lucky to escape.
I didn't mention Liza.
I figured he'd think I was a nut.
Beggs said yeah right.
He said that doesn't explain what you're doing here.
I said they held me prisoner.
I told him about the hole in the floor.
I told him about the coffee can.
I told him about the guns.
The guns got his attention.
He said I know which room you're talking about.
He said those are black powder guns.
I didn't mention the crate with the WWII arsenal.
He said they still work?
I said I didn't stick around to find out.
He said I better call someone.
He scratched his head.
He seemed as perplexed as the toothless man underground.
He said put your hands down while I figure what to do.
I said I need to go.
I said you don't need me here.
I said I really can't stay.
He narrowed his eyes at me.
He said how do I know your not a nutter.
He said you may be playing a joke on me.
He said maybe you're a thief.
He said I'd better search you.
I said I'd rather you didn't.
The door burst open.
The toothless man pointed his muzzle at us.
He said there you are you crafty bastard.
Beggs swung his gun up.
He pumped four shots into the toothless man.
The toothless man danced when the bullets hit his chest.
He collapsed to the floor.
I said I told you so.
I said there are hundreds of people down there.
I said they're upset with me.
I said except for one of them.
Beggs mouth was wide open.
He couldn't seem to speak.
I felt sorry for him.
Then I remembered he was a monster.
I pulled the gun out of the small of my back.
I put the gun barrel in Beggs mouth.
I said I'm not a violent person but I have to go.
I said give me your gun.
Beggs handed me his gun.
I felt his jagged teeth rattling on my gun barrel.
I said I really am sorry about this.
I said I'm in terrible trouble and it's not my fault.
I said everyone I see is a monster.
I looked at the toothless man bleeding on the floor.
I said well almost everyone.
I said take me to an exit.


Beggs took me to a rear exit.
He wasn't happy.
His tenticles drooped around his pointy ears.
His shoulders slumped.
He said just my luck you're a crazy nutter.
He said I hope you haven't stolen anything of value.
I said just this gun with the bad ammo.
He said what kind of guy sees monsters out of real people?
I said shut up, it's gift.
He unlocked the heavy metal door.
He said you're going to kill me aren't you?
I said you got to be kidding.
I said do I look like a killer?
He said I don't know what a killer looks like.
He said I'm only a security guard.
He said I make minimum wage.
He said and I rent.
I happily went out the door.
Darkness had settled in.
Sodium vapor lamps a block away were my only light.
Above the sky looked an angry blue-black.
There was a mist in the air.
I felt very alone.


TO BE CONTINUED . . . . . .

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