Jodie’s apartment possessed massive windows that looked out over the East River and Manhattan beyond, and there was a small rooftop deck as well. By the late night, Joe had made his way out on to the deck, and, leaning on the rails, had settled on revery (as usual) of the tasks that had built the skyline that he settled his gaze on. Joe, construction worker, knew that where others saw majesty, he spied a graveyard—not that his vision changed the skyline, but rather that he always felt he understood the cost of such monuments better than most. They saw bright lights and monoliths that championed the human spirit. In terms of the human spirit and its accomplishments, he was in agreement with most. He had no intention to lord his awareness over anyone either, but he did beg for fellowship in the darker regard.

Without warning, Carlin slaps Joe’s backside, laughs and holds a drink out to Joe. Joe turns to Carlin with some amount of irritation, but the drink reminds him that Carlin is one of his oldest friends, and no impostor. Carlin says, “I never thought I would see you out like this, man!”

Joe smiles, looks from Carlin back to the city and then hangs his head.

“C’mon man! It’s no good to get ya’ to come out and then not get ya’ to have fun!” Regardless, Carlin lets joe stand in his respectful guard for a while. Carlin settles in too. The pair stand on the deck together—these experts of demolition—and pause to breathe in deep the majesty of the construction. Joe, in particular, looks to the Brooklyn Bridge and wonders about burning letters and why he was given the vision of flying over it all. But any meditation comes to an end and Carlin is too giddy to be patient and elbows Joe.

“You won’t believe what I got.”

Joe looks to Carlin and waits.

Carlin reaches into his cargo pants’ pocket and pulls out a zip-loc bag of what appears to be dirt and mushrooms–“Shrooms!” shouts Carlin.

Joe lowers his head and shakes it, “I don’t do anything like that, Carlin—you know that.”

“No, buddy, you’re doin’ it tonight. You’re actually out; that means you’re up to something. So, since your babe there,” Carlin shoots a gaze over to Beatrice, “ain’t whatever that was all supposed to be then you’re stuck with me!” Carlin throws his arm around Joe and pulls him in tight. “C’mon, man, don’t make me trip alone.”

Joe only responds by holding his hand out and looking at the bag. Carlin turns it over and Joe holds the bag up to his face. He considers it. Some entity was already taking over his mind; Beatrice was bullshit—or something. There was no such thing as truly understanding the purpose of any kind of construction. It was all just endless progress that he and the real Beatrice would eventually tear down. And then there was that homeless man; the plan and the burning of letters. What stranger things could happen? he thought, quickly followed by, Just you wait and see when you think things like that.

Read the whole thread: The Hunger Engine

Characters and Places: ,