The Shadows, Kith and Kin Read Free

starting to melt.
     
    Can't sleep.
     
    Can't eat.
     
    Thirsty all the time.
     
    Have masturbated till I hurt.
     
    ––
     
    Strange, but by nightfall the ice started to slip away and all the whiteness was gone and the air, though chill, was not as cold, and the shadows gathered on the welcome mat, and now they have slipped inside, like envelopes pushed beneath the bottom of the door.
     
    They join me.
     
    They comfort me.
     
    I oil my guns.
     
    ––
     
    Late night, early morning, depends on how you look at it. But the guns are well-oiled and there is no ice anywhere. The night is as clear as my mind is now.
     
    I pull the trunk upstairs and drag it out on the porch toward the truck. It's heavy, but I manage it into the back of the pickup. Then I remember there's a dolly in the garage.
     
    My father-in-law's dolly.
     
    "This damn dolly will move anything," he used to say. "Anything."
     
    I get the dolly, load it up, stick in a few tools from the garage, start the truck and roll on out.
     
    ––
     
    I flunked out of college.
     
    Couldn't pass the test.
     
    I'm supposed to be smart.
     
    My mother told me when I was young that I was a genius.
     
    There had been tests.
     
    But I couldn't seem to finish anything.
     
    Dropped out of high school. Took the G.E.D. eventually. Didn't score high there either, but did pass. Barely.
     
    What kind of genius is that?
     
    Finally got into college, four years later than everyone else.
     
    Couldn't cut it. Just couldn't hold anything in my head. Too stuffed up there, as if Kleenex had been packed inside.
     
    My history teacher, he told me: "Son, perhaps you should consider a trade."
     
    ––
     
    I drive along campus. My mind is clear, like the night. The campus clock tower is very sharp against the darkness, lit up at the top and all around. A giant phallus punching up at the moon.
     
    ––
     
    It is easy to drive right up to the tower and unload the gun trunk onto the dolly.
     
    My father-in-law was right.
     
    This dolly is amazing.
     
    And my head, so clear. No Kleenex.
     
    And the shadows, thick and plenty, are with me.
     
    ––
     
    Rolling the dolly, a crowbar from the collection of tools stuffed in my belt, I proceed to the front of the tower. I'm wearing a jumpsuit. Gray. Workman's uniform. For a while I worked for the janitorial department on campus. My attempt at a trade.
     
    They fired me for reading in the janitor's closet.
     
    But I still have the jumpsuit.
     
    ––
     
    The foyer is open, but the elevators are locked.
     
    I pull the dolly upstairs.
     
    It is a chore, a bump at a time, but the dolly straps hold the trunk and I can hear the guns rattling inside, like they want to get out.
     
    ––
     
    By the time I reach the top I'm sweating, feeling weak. I have no idea how long it has taken, but some time I'm sure. The shadows have been with me, encouraging me.
     
    Thank you, I tell them.
     
    ––
     
    The door at the top of the clock tower is locked.
     
    I take out my burglar's key. The crowbar. Go to work.
     
    It's easy.
     
    On the other side of the door I use the dolly itself to push up under the door handle, and it freezes the door. It'll take some work to shake that loose.
     
    ––
     
    There's one more flight inside the tower.
     
    I have to drag the trunk of guns.
     
    Hard work. The rope handle on the crate snaps and the guns slide all the way back down.
     
    I push them up.
     
    I almost think I can't make it. The trunk is so heavy. So many guns. And all that sweet ammunition.
     
    ––
     
    Finally, to the top, shoving with my shoulder, bending my legs all the way.
     
    The door up there is not locked, the one that leads outside to the runway around the clock tower.
     
    I walk out, leaving the trunk. I walk all around the tower and look down at all the small things there.
     
    Soon the light will come, and so will the people.
     
    Turning, I look up at the huge clock hands. Four o'clock.
     
    I hope