Chapter Two: The Note and Home Life

 

Chapter Two: The Note and Home Life

11:16 p.m., Friday, June 30

Steve and I went through the process of removing the victim from the car with an almost robotic-like efficiency. We’ve seen enough needless deaths at this point that we feel just a small amount of regret that is attributed to being part of the same race as the victim, and that was about it. We got the guy out and then got ready to slide him into a body bag. But first we had to figure out who this guy was.

At that point, I didn’t know how many times I would ask myself that question within the next few days.

We fished around in the guy’s pockets until we found a small and simple wallet. We opened it up and found the usual stuff. There was a discount card for a store, probably a Kroger’s or Sam’s Club, and then we found two picture IDs. One was a student ID card for the local university, and the other was a driver’s license. Both of the latter two designated the victim as one Frank Derahno. He was a local boy, nineteen, brown eyes, brown hair, organ donor.

Satisfied with the bureaucratic aspect of our grisly job, we slid the body into the black meat bag. Steve and I carried it to the back of the wagon and slid it into the doors Steve had opened before. With that done, I made my way back towards the cop to tie up some loose ends.

And that’s when I saw it. It was on the gray asphalt, bathed in the duet of cherry red and blueberry blue lights that spackled the surrounding road. It was just a small zip-lock bag that was in the rough area where we frisked the guy for an ID. I went to pick it up, thinking it would be a bag of ganja or some other controlled substance. It was common for the college students in this area to take something to relieve the edge that school would give them, or traffic the stuff to help out with money issues. With the way the economy is right now, I couldn’t honestly blame them. I have a cousin who was currently going through college, and, last I heard, he was the living, breathing stereotype. He ate a lot of pasta, worked a lot, studied a lot, and barely slept. And he was still just staying in his apartment by the skin of his teeth.

            I opened it up to check its contents, as if it was something illegal the cop would want to know about it. Surprisingly, it was just a piece of paper, folded up, and looking much worn. My curiosity piqued, I began to unfold it when I heard Steve’s voice.

            “Yo, Leo! Get your a*s back in the wagon! There’s nothing left to do here.”

            Shrugging, I slipped the paper back into its container and slipped that into my jacket pocket. Steve was right. We needed to be ready in case we got another call, and we still had to take the corpse to the morgue. Oh, the fun I had at this job.

           

            Sighing, I started taking off my jacket back at the hospital I worked for in front of my locker. Hearing something rustling around in one of the pockets, I felt around until I felt plastic. Oh yeah… That piece of paper from the poor sap that got a new air hole via that eighteen-wheeler. I figured I would see what this guy had on him that was so important that it was in a bag to protect it against the elements.

            I opened the top once more and grabbed the note. I unfolded it and righted it so I was looking at the writing that was on it right side up. At this point I realized it was actually a couple of pages. The writing was a little sloppy, but legible enough that I didn’t have to concentrate to read it.

            Dear Reader,

            If you are reading this without my knowledge, it means that either you stole this from my person, or that I am dead. If you stole it, please return it without reading further, you thieving b*****d. But if it’s the latter, then you are in the possession of what is effectively the last will and testament of Frank Derahno.  

            These are a set of instructions that I would like to be followed. It is very important to me and the ones I leave behind, should they still be among the living, that these are implemented. I beseech you, Reader, that you do this...

            Okay, I thought. This is just a little odd. This guy was making it sound like he had left a fortune behind, but if he had that kind of money, he would have left this two-bit state to study at a more prestigious college. But either way I looked at it, it had nothing to do with me. I just slipped the papers back into their container which went into the pocket of my jeans. I was damned tired. It was almost five in the morning, and my shift had ended almost half an hour ago.

            I made my way out of the locker room and out the side door to the employee parking lot. Searching my tired mind for my parking location, I navigated the slowly brightening lot and found my Ford Explorer. Yeah, it was hell on the gas mileage these days, but I have a tendency to lug around a lot of crap with me. If need be, I could probably live out of the thing for a couple of days. Hell, I think I still have the sleeping bags and tents in the back from where a few of my old high school friends and I went for a camping trip a few years back in order to catch up with one another.

            I climbed into the driver’s seat and started up my ride. I made my way out of the parking lot and started my way back to my apartment in South Huntsville. Once I reached the main road and got further south from the hospital, I repeated the mantra I started at least five times a day. Twelve if I was working.

            God, how I hate South Huntsville traffic.

 

            I unlocked the door to my apartment and let the early morning sunlight filter through behind me, letting my shadow beat me into my own apartment. I walk into my oh so humble abode and toss my jacket onto the couch as I close the door behind me and start taking off my shirt as I made my way back to the small bedroom where I slept. I wasn’t too concerned with making a mess as I was mostly concerned with getting to the land of Nod as soon as possible. Besides, I was off today and I could clean up later when I was more awake. I lived alone. It would be like no one else knew it was ever there.

            That thought made me sigh. Yeah, being single had its perks, but sometimes it had too many down-sides. Most of those stemmed from being lonely, but I was too busy with work to let it affect me too much. When I had the time to find a girl is when I would have the same time to devote to spending time with her. Until then, I can be satisfied that I am at least helping people in my loneliness.

            I made my way into my bedroom and mentally tallied up all the major items that would be targets for any burglary. I didn’t live in the best neighborhood, so the rent was cheap, but it called for a little paranoia. Computer desk…Check. Computer and the flat screen monitor…Check. I walked over to the top drawer of my dresser and moved everything over to one side. The .22 caliber handgun…Check.

            With my search concluded, I kicked off my shoes and fell forward into my bed face first. Even though I was tired, I laid there and pondered random things. I’ve always suffered some mild forms of insomnia, going through various stages of severity. It was at its best while I was in the military. Having only 5 hours of rest time to begin with, even the most energetic mind will learn how to settle itself down and make use of the little time allotted to sleep. Ever since I became a paramedic, I’ve been working mostly the night owl shifts. They were always in high demand to fill the ambulance cabs with bodies during those hours. It’s not surprising however. When you spend your entire work hours dealing with God-awful traffic at the best and death at the worse, you want some recreational time. It was for that reason that most people preferred the day shift. When they got off work, they could shake off the day’s events, go spend time with their significant other, their children, or just knock back a couple of cold beers at one of the local sports bars. I don’t have many friends left in this city, and I have no family here either. My folks packed up the home front about a year ago for some retirement resort in Florida somewhere. I had no reason to not work the night owl shift. Let my meager help be in use where it’s in the most demand. It’s all the same to me.

            I rise from my bed again, a new plan in my head. Well, same plan, just with an aid this time around. I made my way to the fridge in the kitchen and opened it up. Inside were some cold cuts and condiments for the meager sandwiches that made up the majority of my diet, and alcohol in the form of beer and whiskey. I start reaching for the beer but decide on the whiskey in the end. Beer makes me a bit antsy, but whiskey will lull my mind to sleep in the early morning. I don’t bother with a glass and just carry the bottle with me to the couch in the living room. I sit down next to my jacket and take several long pulls from the bottle. Much better… Who cares if they say it leads to the disease? That would be one of the least of my worries. Right now, I’m interested in shaking off the demons of the day in my own way. Getting to sleep through the sounds of Huntsville in early morning swing was my prime directive right now. It was usually a hard one if I was still up at this point, but this magic brown elixir was just what the doctor ordered… Ah, I feel the sleep coming. Or is that the buzz? I don’t know, but I don’t care. At this point, they’re both the same. As my consciousness decided to abandon ship and swim through the ocean of alcohol it found itself immerse in and swim to the shore of Nod, one thought was predominant as I heard the background noise fade away, but not completely, much to my dismay.

            God, how I hate South Huntsville traffic.

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[Emily In Disguise]

Once again, I love it. And don't worry, I hate South Huntsville traffic too.