Drunken Construction Workers is a short story I wrote and entered into a creative writing contest at Vanier College in Montreal in 2001. I received a 50$ second place prize for it. Later, at
It’s too late now. Thirty-nine minutes late. On the clock in my room. My room, the keyhole room, in the house. There is a narrow hallway that leads to the door of my room; so if ever you should become a bird, my room would look like a keyhole to you up there in the sky. The acoustics are absolutely great in here. When i sometimes sing aloud, to hear my voice and tummy growl, the acoustics are great. i painted it myself. Jeb got some paint at a yard sale one time. He was just driving uptown to get himself a bucket or something, and smack in the middle of nowhere he blew a flat. The car got slow and stopped near this house having a yard sale. Jeb got all kinds of old paints in rusty old paint cans, for real cheap too. Jeb’s my brother you know. Older, of course. Anyhow, i painted one wall red. Well, most of it at least. Or all of it if you’re just a visitor cause behind the big chest the red fades and in the corner it’s still white. The paint in the rusty can wasn’t enough of course. Especially since Jeb spilled some in the trunk on the way back home. Sure, the man with the yard sale had a spare tire too. And Jeb likes to just sit in his room and listen to the rockin’ oldies station late at night sometimes. He doesn’t make a sound either. Lucy doesn’t mind.
At 3 a.m. wild things were happening. Or is it a wild thing that defines nothing. Sorry. Again. An old woman, grey and wrinkly pushed herself across the cross street. Milli-moments later two black cars came skidding around the bend and nearly ended the old bags’ happy days. The first car dodged her for some reason and flew into a fire hydrant. The second flew right, no, he slammed the brakes. Yes he slammed the brakes and made loud skidding sounds. It was a chick. Yeah, a chick in the second black car. Chick meaning both "woman" and "hot mamma." Tight black clothing, as if she was a stunt double for some sexy action film. She jumped out of the driver’s seat and into the back seat. It was a two door black car.
The second wall to the left (like in cards) has a big window in it. But the contractors must have been drunk or buzzin’ on something cause they really fucked it up. i mean way fucked up of course. It’s a big window, alright. The whole is there and all. A big damn whole. But there is a wall exactly one centimeter away from it. Almost exactly the same size as the window. Only 5 centimeters bigger on each side. The third wall, to the left still like in cards, is an outline of Lucy. i had her stand up against the wall in a crazy position and traced her out with an orange pastel crayon i stole off this poor kid. Boy, he sure loved his pastels. i think his name was Isaac or something.
The street soon filled up with water. The fire hydrant was squirting water all over the place. "My God, the fire hydrant is squirting water like it’s out of style!" Screamed out a wasted life of a character from the window of her swanky apartment. If it was out of style, the hydrant wouldn’t care to squirt. But if it was going out of style, then you have to squirt your money’s worth. Just then the chick pushed the seat in front and opened the door, got out and crept into a big building on the right.
In case you’re wondering, and you probably are, or should be, and even if you aren’t, you’re going to find out who Lucy is. My parents, or procreators if you will, made a mess, and a lot of cash. End product: money manager and foster person LUCY and a big house with a room that looks like a keyhole if you should ever feel like becoming a bird. i have an uncle who has a shit load of dough too. He sends over a nice helping of green every month cause he feels bad for me and Jeb or something. Probably cause he’s got no family of his own. He’s a slut.
The other guy from the first car rammed his face through the first black car’s windshield. What a mess he was. Boy, George was dripping blood like it was going out of style. But he didn’t care. He didn’t even wipe it off or anything. His face trembled with fear. His eyes were wide open, making a brilliant contrast between the white of his eye and blood red face. He began to run, dripping blood from this big cut in his face, above his eyebrows. It began above his left eyebrow and went up his head into his hairline at a little less than a 45 degree angle. The street was as straight as someone who really isn’t a politician. George ran down the street clumsy as a flamingo. Those ugly brown flamingos. Anyways, George ran down looking like a flamingo, for about two blocks. The street was pretty dead. It should have been for a Tuesday at 3:00 a.m. There were no lights except for a couple of street lampposts. One kept flickering and then would go off, then a bit latter it would go on again, and the flickering would start again. All pretty dark except for one place that was open. At the end of the two blocks that George had just run down, the street ended at a T-intersection. And just right, of smack in the middle of the perpendicular street, this place seemed to be open. There was this neon sign that read all in capital letters HOTDOGS. It was a pink neon, it went on and off, but stayed on more then off at a ratio of 3 seconds on to 1 second off. While it was on, it made that buzzing sound, that those neon’s make, and can be heard if it’s pitch black quiet. That being the case, light and sound disrupted George’s frightened face for a moment, and he began towards it. It was really quiet. As George crossed the street, he heard the light turn yellow. It was a clicking sound.
Not a slut as in male whores who work for money, but slut enough not to settle down with someone and harness a family. Jeb called him a slut once, i laughed a whole fucking lot, when he did. So i like to call my uncle a slut. Lucy thinks it’s cute. No, she’s not fucked up or anything, it’s just one of those things she’ll let pass and think is cute. But not if i say it too much. It’s not like i can always call him a slut too much. Lucy doesn’t like it. i never overdid it with the slut thing, but i just know she wouldn’t like it. Good old Lucy, she has her room closer to Jeb’s than mine. It’s this big square room that looks small because of the big furniture she has in it. As for my forth and final wall, it has the door. Yes, the door that when in an opened position has a great view of the window wall. Oh yeah, the chest is blue. Big blue. i don’t know what’s in it, or i’d tell you. There’s not really anything i wouldn’t tell you of course. But i don’t know what’s in it because i never opened it to look. It’s not even locked or stuck or anything, i just never checked. i don’t care what’s there much. i think Jeb came in my room once and got something from it. i think, because it was late, and i was in bed, and i was either half asleep or half dreaming. But it’s been in my room as long as i can remember. i don’t know who’s it is. i don’t care about that chest. Before my parents moved, i was in another room. The one next to where Lucy is now. When i grabbed this room, the chest was already there. i always wanted the keyhole room, more than Jeb, so as soon as my parents moved out, i moved in here. But before being my room, the keyhole room was never used. It had all kinds of yard sale shit in it.
"Two hotdogs please." What else could he order at a place that had hotdogs written in all capital letters? He didn’t have to get 2, but the hotdog part was a given. As for the please, it wasn’t like George to say please at a hotdog joint. Actually the only time he’d say please even near a joint, would be to get a toke. Meanwhile the chick got sexy with an explanation to her superior. He was watching pornos at the office, cause he was pretty much always at the office. He had a really big house with no one in it, but he’d rather stay at the office. "Sorry Jake, I know I’m late." "The hell, babe?" "Listen Jake, Harvey just called me, and I had to think fast." "Alright Leteishia. How do I know you weren’t fuckin around earlier? You’re just acting big and sexy, takin all your sweet time getting here?" "No Jake, I swear I sped over hear as soon as I could." Just then, a cap was in sight. A New York Yankees ball game cap. The chick talking to Jake had it in her hand. She picked it up from the back seat. "Whoa buddy, you’re a mess, you’re gonna get blood all over the place." The man was plump, had a dirty apron, with a tooth pick in his mouth. He cooked hotdogs for 8.35 an hour at 3:06 a.m. on Tuesday. But just then the room started spinning. At first it was a moderate pace, but it kept on accelerating until everything was a blur. Slowly images produced themselves for George. Little red palm trees made a round fortress around the room. In between each four trees were tiny little black men with blond afros, wearing nothing but a cloth around their bellies. They were sitting on draddles, brown and blue draddles. And they went up and down, up and down. Just then, a train burst through the middle of the room. George was in his 30’s and unfortunately 5 hits high on LSD. The guy at the hotdog place brought him to a hospital, where George was properly treated.
Even though it’s too late, right now i need something to do to kill some time. i’ll take a walk outside. Yeah, i need to get out of here. i didn’t tell Lucy i was stepping out, i don’t think she’d like it much.
The two of them started shooting a porno. Jake and the chick weren’t even the only two there, they had moved down to the studio downstairs. There was a whole bunch of other people shooting porno. It was kind of funny too, one guy had this long shirt, and only this long shirt, with blue stripes, light blue stripes, and white stripes. It was hilarious when his penis rose perpendicularly to the stripes, and looked like a hotdog in a tent. So the lot of them shot porno for a couple of hours. There’s a lot of money to be made in the porno business.
Final act.
My main purpose is to tell you how everything ends off and maybe ties together.
SCENE: - Some funeral home.
CASKET CAUSE OF DEATH
- one room { a young boy (1) - himself, and a pool of water at the bottom of a cliff
- another room { an older man (2) - Loss of blood
VISITORS AT FUNERALS
1
- Lucy, Jeb, Uncle with a girl he calls teish,
2
- Hotdog place cook # 1 a little bird
As for me, i’m in a dark place as well. Why don’t you find out if there is any funeral parlours with only two rooms, or places that allow birds to visit without their cage.
We were two, now she left me alone.
THE END.
By: Carlo Gentile
