William Hunter (372 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.25 on 10 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Transmogrifier (View user info) at 2007-02-02 00:25:58 EST
"Tariq's Rock adult lifestyle condominiums" read the gold-plated sign nailed into the tasteful stucco sculpture out front of the gatehouse. The twin apartment buildings were nestled into the hills next to the observatory and across the street was a permanently empty strip-mall parking lot which housed shops like "Value-mart" and the non-descript "Golden Dollar". South was a murky view of the polluted city, though nothing but suburbs and trees stood as imposing between Tariq's Rock and the distant skyscrapers.
Abandoned farmer's fields, leafless trees, and muddy ditches stretched to the east and west until the horizon swallowed the brown unknown greedily.
The dirty autumn streets had been preemptively sprinkled with salt, and the assorted grit of dead leaves, salt and gravel crunched underfoot. Breath clouded in small momentary wisps around the head.
The sun was dying, casting an orange hue on everything about.
Will Hunter, with his plaid wheat-coloured overcoat hung over his right arm crossed the street towards the entranceway to the Tariq's Rock. He pulled his wheeled suitcase up the side of the curb and walked along the sidewalk to the building's side-entrance. He flashed his grandmother's keycard at the magnetic detector near the door, though the door didn't swing open as he had expected it would.
"Hey buddy!"
Will turned his head to see the gatehouse guard waving to him from behind a metal window screen.
"You the new guy here? There's been a problem with the keycards recently. Sorry about that... I'll let you in." he said
Will stared for a second until he heard the door click open behind him. He walked into the warmth of the building, his boots and the wheels of his suitcase leaving wet brown marks on the carpet.
As the door slowly closed, he heard the gateman speak again,
"Welcome to Tariq's Rock, Hunter!"
And as he rounded the corner to the lobby, the words of the gatehouse guard were echoed in double. Two elderly women were resting on a clean cotton couch, decorated with too many tassels and embroidered golden arabesque curls to tolerate.
"Welcome to Tariq's Rock!"
Their clothes were just as elegantly decorated as the couch and their pale skin strained against the generous amounts of fat contained within. Their lips flipped and flapped against their chins as they spoke, as though they were choking on their own air through the weight of the fat on their throats.
"Hello, ladies. Wonderful autumn day out there, isn't it? Bit chilly and miserable for my taste, but lovely to watch from indoors, wouldn't you say?"
"Too true, too true" one of the hags said to the other, nodding furiously, blinking like a spastic to drive the whole point home.
The gentleman William Hunter tipped his hat to the women and proceeded to the elevator bank around the corner. As soon as he was out of view, the saccharine smile on his face faded and so too did the women's. His elevator arrived with a pleasing ding and he mashed the button for floor nine.
The women no doubt spent the rest of the day on that very same couch complaining about their children, their diseases, and the world at large.
Will unlocked and opened the door of his new apartment quietly and removed his shoes. He dropped them next to the door, hanging his coat and hat on the rack on the wall. He crept carefully amongst the golden trinkets of his grandmother's, taking a few moments to gaze on them.
One sepia-tinged photo framed in gold-leaf revealed a delicate snapshot from a long-expired childhood. Marie Hunter, with her shining strawberry blonde curls illuminated in front of the sun, sits astride a little pony, her face the picture of glee.
Beside her stands her father. His stern face is attached to a pipe and barely even a glimmer of pride or happiness is visible in his squinting eyes, though the slight way his mouth curls up in the corners betrays him. God knows what the pony cost or how long it stuck around. From the look of his clothing - that of a working class man, it may have been a temporary joy.
In the silence of a crypt, Will heard a small tick-tocking floating around without a source. A short search led him to a small and probably quite old Mickey Mouse alarm clock on the bottom shelf of a glass display case mounted on the wall. The twin bells were shaped like Mickey's ears, and all around it were other Disney and Coca-Cola memorabilia. Will suspected it must have been comforting to have reminders of youth.
He let his hands trace the outer edge of the clock face slowly. He was hypnotized by these artifacts.
William locked the door. Disturbing the lace frilled pillows; he collapsed on the upholstered polyester-covered couch. He switched off the small lamp beside him and fell into a deep sleep. All night, the pale stare of the moon reflecting from gold, silver, and crystal glass danced on his face.
***
In the morning, Will called a friend and the two of them gathered the reminders and belongings of Will's dear grandmother. The shelves were swept clean and the floors and small mountains of valuables and sentimental treasures began to grow high enough to topple and bury the two. They sifted and sifted through the piles like crazed lunatics digging for a dead pirate captain's treasure.
Diary entries were valueless, and so the pages were removed from their books and bindings. Photographs such as the one with the pony were put into plain black garbage bags along with her letters to Russ Hunter during the war. Reading glasses, medical supplies, wedding photos all joined them. The bags were stuffed into the small closet which had been emptied of Marie's fur coats, scarves, and other pleasentries.
Her collections of little china maids and dancers from the orient were delicately placed in bubble-wrap film and packed one by one into boxes. So too were tea sets and Jewelry. Overall, three cardboard boxes of knee-height were running over with Marie's things.
Slowly, the tabletops cleared, and the lacquered hardwood began to show through, much to the men's relief. The flood was over.
The two men drove a total of three cardboard boxes in the back of the red pickup to a pawn shop. Also in the truck back was an impressive yet heavy grandfather clock. The day's efforts earned Will and his friend three hundred dollars each as well as another two hundred for Will because he'd found the treasure.
Later in the afternoon, the two friends would be sitting on the hardwood floor of the empty living room, sipping on cold Blue Ribbons.
"Do you figure you'll be able to explain this to Marie once you've died?"
"Won't be seeing her once I'm dead I don't think...Anyways, it would be a shame to have these things just sitting around when nobody can use them or enjoy them. At least now they'll go towards some kind of purpose."
A long silence followed as William and his friend both watched the smog fall over the city to the south, sipping and sipping their beers.
Not much later, Will's friend stood in the doorway, still with the Pabst glued to his hand.
"I'll be back in a week, so don't get too bored, you know? God knows how long I'd last in an empty place like this. But don't worry about it, because when I come back, I will have some more cash to make some improvements around here."
And soon enough, the stranger was gone. Once more, the silence was overwhelming in Will's world.
He had saved her old record player and put on a dark and tolling carol of bells from Marie's collection. He uncorked and finished the bottle of decades-old wine he had found in Marie's bedside table.
As the wine settled into his synapses, Will took a pair of binoculars that his friend had given him and stood on his balcony, watching the scene of night unfold.
The sun had disappeared behind the curvature of the earth and a thick, smoky fog inhabited the nighttime. None of the lights were on in the strip-mall across the street, and the only real light came from the sodium street lights which cast orange angelbeams on the glistening blacktop.
A couple was making love extremely fervently in a house behind the strip-mall. The fools had left their window shades open. The dance the two created was fast and exciting and raw and disgusting -though it bored Will. He put down the binoculars and gave them privacy.
Will breathed the cool, humid air of this strange midnight world and allowed his eyes to drift along the moon-rays which peered into the inherited suite.
Now that the walls weren't blocked up by paintings, display cases, and the relics of the past, Will could put up some Warhol prints. He could install an electric fireplace in the living room wall... Will fancied he would fill those remaining two ebony bookcases with the classics. He could buy a leather chair and position it between them and he'd have a study! Yeah, a study would be just fine...
Fuck that, he hated Warhol.
A bunch of Persian rugs and scrap-metal sculptures would adorn the front hall. No no -a multitude would adorn the great hall. It would be a palace.
So much potential for beauty; and Marie in her age had squandered it -filled it with memories she knew only she nobody but her would understand or care for.
With a satisfied sigh, Will announced to himself that things could now be as they should.
Will let his gaze follow a particularly bright star as it crossed the sky,
"Thanks grandma."
User Reviews
Submitted by forthewin (user info) at 2007-02-15 12:51:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by JohnnyTruant (user info) at 2007-02-02 16:24:12 (#)
Ranking: 0
Is that all I get for reviews? Oh, ubersite, thou art a fickle lady
__________________
Hey buddy, I'll let you in on a little secret. Text scares Uber. But, not nearly as much as an asslode of text does.
Submitted by Snare (user info) at 2007-02-14 19:13:47 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
William Hunter?
WILLIAM
HUNTER
WILLIAM
wait for it
HUNTER!
Cunt.
You first...
Submitted by locksly (user info) at 2007-02-12 02:26:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by JohnnyTruant (user info) at 2007-02-02 16:24:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Is that all I get for reviews? Oh, ubersite, thou art a fickle lady
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-02-02 15:18:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
I was hoping for hot GMILF action, and THIS is what i get?
Submitted by DirtyHarry (user info) at 2007-02-02 09:24:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2007-02-02 08:30:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2007-02-02 00:51:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
out with the old
in with the young
Submitted by JohnnyTruant (user info) at 2007-02-02 00:50:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
It's a bit long, so I'll forgive you, haha. Thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt on this one... I think it's pretty good (and I know that seems cocky in print though trust me: it shouldn't be read that way)
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-02-02 00:47:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I kinda read it.