Turns out the biohazard business and the junk business are the same racket. Got into the hazardous stuff when somebody seen me cleanin up a jobsite, and they was lookin for someone to clean up a hoarder’s house across the road. I ain’t one to pass up money, but a man can only take cleanin up so many dead folks. Some lady been in her apartment long enough it was like somebody juiced her into the floorboards. But that didn’t happen til after the cats ate her face and most of a leg. I had to rip out the subfloor and clean all vents and pipes and lectrical underneath. Wasn’t no amount of money worth it. I didn’t do litter boxes less somebody died in one. I don’t trust no cat, and don’t trust no suit to keep that plasmatic toxo outta me.
Anyhow, the first time I seen Landon, he’s my partner now, I was pumpin gas in that suit with that dead lady’s juice squz all over me. I reckon Landon thought death smelled like money and asked me what I done for a livin. We got to talkin and he said he just sold some old mill house. The whole damned mill, grist and all. Made a fortune on it. Moved it piece by piece from Texas to Tennessee. That got me talkin about a Spencer repeater I just found. Gubment was dumb in the Civil War too. They passed on a 7 shot rifle in favor of packin single shots. Said it shot too fast to be accurate. That’s what happens when some fat cat never shot a gun or fought a fight makes the decisions. There ain’t no boss in the world actually knows what the hell is goin on with regular folks in the trenches.
Anyhow, my partner talked me into selling that business and junkin with him. He’s a good man. Too bad his son, Greg, took after his Mama. But Landon was always patient with him. Landon tried and tried and tried and never give up tryin to teach that boy how to make a livin sellin shit but it wasn’t no use. Wasn’t no amount of patience gonna teach that boy how to make money. His dumbassedness was the reason they quit makin our show, Storage Lore. Well, him and that crooked producer.
Anyhow, one time, at night when I got home from junkin, I’d fall asleep, and when I got to work the next day, I couldn’t remember shit bout bein at home. Like I was time travelin every evenin. Til I talked to Landon about it. A brick damn near rolled out of his britches, if ya know what I mean. He made me call 911 right then. Turned out I was gettin carbon monoxided. Cain’t believe how ignorant I was. Damn near died. Thank the lord for Landon. A gas man come and fixed what was wrong and I bought me a detector and a bunch of batteries. Damn near killed by my own ignorance. Speakin of ignorance and batteries, Landon saved his boy from his own dumbassedness for a lotta years. But ya cain’t fix stupid. My partner oughta be proud of hisself, but he ain’t. We don’t ever remember the big licks we hit, just the ones we lost on. Without his daddy, that boy wouldn’ta lived to see kinnergarten.
Anyhow, we was in a big complex in a fancy parta Houston. Only climate controlled storage facility I ever seen, but we was out at the regular units that get hot. They still had block walls and razor wire round em. Used a fingerprint sensor to get in. It was a real tech-high place. Locked up tighter’n Fort Knox. Heard Dolly Parton kept her tour bus there, but that don’t make no sense. She don’t live in Texas. I was hopin to find me an old Le Mat revolver. They was made by the Confederates and we was in Texas and I already had a buyer lined up for one. Or maybe a liquid cooled Maschinengewehr. They still fetch some money even if they’re overheated and blowed up. Gun nuts love Nazi shit. But I don’t like goin to these fancy storage auctions cause rich people don’t hardly collect guns. What the hell they need ‘em for? Ain’t no home invasions in cul de sacs. Rich folks do all their killin with money. But just cause they don’t need guns or cops don’t mean they don’t screw up or hit hard times. Differ’nce ‘tween them and me is they file bankruptcy, form a new business, and keep on. I cain’t do that. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like buyin their stuff for pennies on the dollar when they hit the skids. If I don’t do it, somebody else will. But I pay my debts. They do some legal fenegalin and go borrowin more money under a differn’t business. Had ‘em skip out on money I was owed several times. Just cause somethin’s legal don’t make it right.
Anyhow, all the people everybody knows from the show was there. The young couple that was always arguin when they wasn’t fightin together against someone else. Me and Landon acted like we was enemies, but that was just for show. Then there’s Hog Head. He only ever gets stuff he cain’t sell and complains about it. The producer says they need him so people got someone to look down their nose at. Says they like losers. Makes ‘em feel better about theirselves. We all knew that Hog Head wasn’t gonna win that auction, but goddamn I wished he would have.
Anyhow, they put cameras up on opposite sides so they can get all of us while we’re fightin over this big unit. Big tall garage door on it, big enough to drive a deuce and a quarter into. We always knew what was in the units and who was gonna get ‘em before anyone bid, but the producer claimed they couldn’t get the right person on the phone so we was biddin on this one blind. Said we might not even get any footage we could use. I reckoned the producer knowed exactly what was in there. He aimed to get footage of the Hindenburg but got put in Huntsville instead. Too bad they cain’t lock up everybody that come here from California.
Anyhow, me and Landon act like we wanna kill each other over gettin this unit and the young couple are fightin each other over how high to bid. Landon’s yellin and spittin that he’s gonna crack my head. He finally gives up and drops his head and smacks his thighs. He’s a pretty good actor for a junk man. The young couple was so busy arguin that they forgot to keep biddin. Then they start fightin harder when they see I won. I throw my arms up in the air and do a little victory lap in between the cameras and it's time for lunch before they shoot me openin up the place.
Landon, that’s my partner, he says, “Still haven’t heard from Greg.” That boy probly dropped his phone in the toilet again and was too ashamed to ask for another one. He was dumb, but he knew he was dumb, and he was shamed of it. He wasn’t a bad kid, but everything he touched turned to shit. I keep the peace with Landon about his boy, but stupidity ain’t an excuse for everything. I cain’t prove that he robbed me, and the boy says it was a mistake, but his Daddy paid me the differ’nce so there wasn’t no harm done. I tried to go with him to make sure he didn’t fuck the dog, but Landon made me let him do it on his own. Greg sold a U States smooth bore flintlock and lost enough money to win the auction on this unit. That’s a Revolutionary War rifle. Somebody killed redcoats with it.
Anyhow, I says, “How longs it been?” and Landon drops his head
He says, “Longer than it's ever been.” That means long enough that he’s worried.
I says, “What’s a last thing he said?”
“Says he’s gonna pay me back. Crazy talk.”
That boy couldn’t make ten cents outta two nickels. Landon’s a good man. But Landon was Dixie, and Greg’s half cocked brain was the Union. It was a losin battle, and he knew it. But bless his heart, he did his best. The boy was unemployable, so his Daddy took care of everything. Paid his rent. His high dollar car payment. Even if the boy coulda made the money, he’d never remember to make the damn payment.
Anyhow, the producer pulls the cameramen away from us and talks to ‘em all, private like. They come back and fire the show back up and the man opens the door up and you wouldn’t believe what’s in there. No Dolly Parton bus or Porter Wagoner rhinestone suits. No boxes. No big plastic totes. No tools or guns or antique hutches or record collections. No jewelry. It's clean block walls all the way round ‘cept for one damned thing. A brand new car. The back’s got a big fancy lookin T in the middle. Looks like a old push dagger, a sharp butt plug. Says Model X off to the side. Somebody said it was plaid, but I don’t know what the hell they was on because it was black with blacked out windows. I put my arms in the air cause I know that me and Landon are gonna hit a good lick on this car, but the cameras was pointed at Landon. But I’m the one spose to be excited about the payday.
Anyhow, Landon reads the license plate. He squz his eyes together and shook his head and looked again. I look at it and it's a vanity plate. Says 4JUNKN. All Landon’s plates got numbers, then JUNKN. I ain’t gonna make a damn nickel offa this. I don’t know what the hell else to do so I walk to the driver’s side door and start fiddlin with that crazy ass handle they put on them cars. Push what looks like a button, but it just sticks up on the other end and don’t do nothin. So I push it again. Still nothin. I push and grab ahold of the part that pokes out and fiddle with it for a while until Landon steps up with cameras followin him. I move outta the way and he opens it up. Spose to push then pull. When that door popped open, the smell bout knocked my ass over. A dead body in a house don’t smell near as bad as in a car. House’s got vennelation. A car don’t. Stink gets concentrated in a car. I ran out. Landon stepped to the side to see in, but the door was just cracked and the smell wouldn’t let him get close enough. I’m coughin and wavin everybody back. That boy from the young couple starts gaggin and runs away down the row of units. His old lady got sick all over the place. Hog Head just stood outside eatin a damn Zebra Cake like it wasn’t nothin.
Anyhow, the cops or coroners, I forget which one, they taught me to put peppermint oil on a rag or smear it on my upper lip. I didn’t have any, but run out to the truck and poked around. Only thing I had that might touch it was a jar of leather conditioner I bought to fix up an old bomber jacket. I took off my shirt and ripped both sleeves off. Smeared that conditioner all over ‘em. Smelled like pine tar. Landon’s still movin back and forth outside the unit tryin to get a look. I stick the rag in his hand and we step in. The rag makes me feel like my lungs are cavin in, but it's better than tastin death. Peppermint oil don’t take your breath away the way chemicals does. I grab the edge of the door and step back out of the way with it. Landon saw inside and walked out of the unit. It's somebody been dead a long time. Skeleton with the skin tight over his face. Look like somebody been to nazi camp. One of them hollercosters. Lips all peeled back away from his teeth. The skin around his eyes was sunken in and the eyeballs bugged out. I knew I’d have to replace that seat. Everybody pisses and shits when they die. But at least he hadn’t turned to rotten jello. Them little bitty jeans was loose on his legs and crusted. Seen his ribs through his baggy shirt. All his hair fell out on his shoulders. He’d been there a long time. The producer hollers for the camera people to keep rollin. Yellin and screamin and rasslin to entertain people is one thing, but videoin some dead boy what didn’t ask to be on your show? I hate to get red with anybody, but I knew it was past due for that sorry sonofabitch.
Anyhow, Landon steps back in, holdin the rag on his face. The storage people are hollerin that they’re callin the cops and we cain’t do this and the producer told ‘em to pound sand. I got curious and opened up the back door. The floorboard was full of empty water bottles. He’d been there awhile. I grabbed my partner by the shirt to drag him out ‘fore the cops showed up. The producer come over to us. He usually don’t interview us until we get back to the studio. I tell him to piss off. I ain’t gonna be a part of a show puttin death on display for the whole goddamned world. The producer asks Landon what he reckons happened to his son, and it felt like I got hit in the guts with the butt of a rifle. It don’t look like Greg. Don’t look like no one. I reckon his Daddy always knew somethin like this was comin. Landon’s starin a hole in the producer like he’s fixin to kill him, so I get between ‘em and cuss at ‘em.
Anyhow, the cops and EMT’s show up and he’s still filmin and they're as pissed off as me bout it. The EMT’s roll a gurney beside the car, and one of them grabs his wrist. The medic runs outta there, and the other one holds his wrist for a minute and says, “I’ll be damned.” The other one comes back and sticks a stethoscope to the boys neck. You know how cold a stethoscope is? They’re so damned cold, they wake the dead. What was left of Greg started moanin but couldn’t say nothin with his lips off his teeth like that. Landon goes to run over there and I grab him in a bear hug and the cops help me. He keeps fightin with us anyhow and the cameras are in our face again. The producer walks over and I let go of Landon so the cameras and cops follow him. I turnt and coldcocked that producer. But I was nice about it. Hit him with an open hand. One of the cops walked over and got between us and I threw my hands in the air and walked away. It took long enough to clean up a triple homicide to get Greg out of that lectric car and onto the gurney. Landon got in the ambulance with his boy.
Anyhow, I tell the cops that they need to grill that producer cause I got it figured that he knew exactly what was in there. The detective says not to worry about hittin the producer, and give me his card. I got in the truck and called the guy that bought my old business. Told him I had a job for him. Wasn’t gonna hit that lick I hoped for since Landon already owned the car, but the least I could do is get it cleaned up for him. Much as Landon was there for Greg all those years, I had to go be there for my partner.
Anyhow, we was in the hospital with Greg. They’d been in there a few days and Greg had tubes runnin through his teeth and in his arms. Landon’s eyes was dark. Sleepin in them hospital chairs ain’t worth a shit. The detective come in, said they got aholt of the phones and computers. Said Greg had a plan to get famous like his Daddy. Said he wanted to pay his Daddy back for bein so good to him. The producer tried to cover his ass, gave Greg the number for the suicide preventers, but told him it’d be the biggest episode of TV there ever was too. That snake knew what he was doin. Told him gettin carbon monoxided didn’t hurt nobody. Landon stared at Greg’s chest goin up and down and nodded his head. Detective said they was bringin up assisted suicide and manslaughter charges. Landon said he’d file a civil suit too. He oughta get every nickel that snake’s worth.
Anyhow, the detective tried to hand my partner a folder with some papers in it. Said it was the last of what his son looked up on his phone. Said he thought he might want to know. Landon didn’t look up, so I took the folder. The cop left and I asked Landon if he minded if I looked at the papers.
Landon says, “Everybody’s gonna know everything after the trial anyway.” I thumbed through it and it wasn’t no surprise. Greg talkin to people about how much he hated hisself. Second to last thing he looked up was how long carbon monoxidation took. Last thing was how long to starve. Shit. The boy coulda grabbed one of his Daddy’s guns. Or he coulda give up, and lived.
Anyhow, the last time I seen Landon was in the hospital when they took Greg off the ventilator. They pulled the tube out of his throat and he started moanin just like he did in the storage unit. I looked at Landon and Landon looked at Greg. Greg kept right on moanin. I wanted to be there for my partner, but I couldn’t take much of it. That boy never could get right. I reckon some of us cain’t even die right.
Beautiful line "There ain’t no boss in the world actually knows what the hell is goin on with regular folks in the trenches.:
It took me a few days to get around to reading. So glad I remembered to come back. Any chance you have more? I'd be obsessed with this as a novel.