G R I N D E R
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I rode up the freight elevator with Johnny. Before we hit our floor, the box jerked to a halt. And I was shaken from the routine of the day. The doors flipped open as - too surreal - a woman and a monkey joined us. She was cute. But I couldn't take my eyes off the monkey: half-hidden beneath a black tarp, on a rolling, metal cart. Johnny liked animals. He introduced himself. The cute woman pulled back the cage's covering and Johnny and I both got an eyeful: the monkey had some sort of electrical socket grafted into its skull; a spaghetti plate of wire ran out from its head. "Cover that thing back up!" I yelled. The monkey shuffled to the corner of his cage; Johnny moved to the corner of the elevator; the woman scowled at me. "Don't raise your voice," she said, "They're VERY sensitive!" Oh, that's right, I thought to myself, the monkey's biggest problem right now is my voice. Thank goodness he has a friend like you: someone willing to wire him up properly. I was never supposed to have any contact with the animals; Nick assured me that I wouldn't. "Just move the material up there; make your cuts in the wall; shovel out the rubble," that's what he told me. I knew it was wrong, but I needed the money. Later in the day I ran the saw with the diamond encrusted blade, watching as the plume of white dust billowed out from the cut and filled the room with silica. All the other contractors complained. I wished that I had a mask. |
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But it was the noise of the dogs bothered me the most. Even with my saw running I heard the dogs screaming. I don't know what the cute woman and her colleagues were doing to the dogs, but they were in pain. A group of them, somewhere on the floor below us, would bark. Then one dog would scream. It would scream a long time. And I wanted to go and kill the dog, and kill the people who were making it scream, and kill myself too. I tried to repeat: "I am not, I am not." I tried not to exist. I tried not to be me. I loved the sky. I loved the sun. I loved the feeling of a clean wind blowing over me. I loved the smell of the pine trees that grew around my Uncle's farm. The whole place reeked of urine and fear. I had sold my soul and body for a few dollars. I didn't really think that I had a choice. I had big hands and a strong back and not much else to pimp. Johnny didn't know better: he never saw the sixth grade. The people who were running the show didn't give a fuck about me or Johnny - or any of the other animals. I still cough a little more than I should. It's four in the morning now. High above the city the animals in the lab are sleeping - sleeping in a monument to our great potential. |
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