The storage unit door rattled as it slid upwards, letting light inside. Oliver and the manager of the business walked inside. The manager swung his keys around his finger as Oliver stepped further inside, hands in his pockets and looked around at the space.
"So, it's climate controlled?" Oliver asked, not looking back at the man, "because I plan to store some stuff in here that could be affected by temperature changes. Old home movies and photos and stuff like that." "Yes sir, the whole place is climate controlled, and we don't have any pests or anything that could harm your belongings," the manager said, scratching the back of his head, "and of course, privacy. Nobody will ever gain access to your unit from within the company. Believe me when I tell you we have absolutely no interest in your crap." Oliver chuckled, nodding. He sighed and looked back at the manager. "I get a key?" "You get a single key, yes," the manager said, "but do not lose it. You'll have to pay to have it replaced. And if someone finds it, you wouldn't want them getting in." "Trust me," Oliver said, as his eyes scanned over the interior one more time, "...nobody is ever gonna come here but me." *** Rachel was sitting at her coffee table in her living room, sipping coffee from her mug and flipping through muted television channels. She yawned and tossed her long shiny hair, still waking up from sleep, when a knock came at her door. Sun Rai entered the room, clipping earrings onto herself, and headed to answer the door. As she pulled it open, they found Wyatt standing there, who smiled at her. "Hiya," he said, "Uh, I'm...I'm here to see Rachel, is she home?" "He can come in," Rachel shouted, and Sun Rai moved aside, heading back to the bathroom to finish getting dressed as Wyatt entered the apartment and shut the door behind him. He walked up to the table and looked around the living room. "I think this is the first time I've ever actually been inside your place," he said, "it's nice. Cozy." "What do you want?" Rachel asked, continuing to sip her coffee. "Where's she going?" Wyatt asked, nodding towards the bathroom. "She has a medical thing with her folks today," Rachel said. "So you're free?" The subtle urgency in Wyatt's voice caught her attention, and she set her coffee mug down and looked at him. She leaned forward a little, raising an eyebrow. "...what is it you want?" she asked. "I really need you to come with me somewhere," Wyatt said, "...there's something Calvin wants us to see." *** Calvin was leaning against the door to the unit, waiting for the others to arrive. He was looking at his watch when he heard the click of heels on the floor, and turned to see Celia coming down the hallway. She smiled and politely waved at him upon approach, and Calvin stuffed his hands back in his pockets, smiling back at her. As Celia got closer, she tugged at the strap of her purse, pulling it higher up on her shoulder and came to a stop by the door. "I guess Wyatt gave you directions," Calvin said. "Yeah, he said he was picking Rachel up, but that I could just meet you guys here," Celia said, "how long is this going to take? Cause I have to get to work soon, and then I have to take my son to his piano lessons and-" "It won't take long," Calvin said, clearing his throat, "but, uh...look, you have a child, and I just...I want you to brace yourself for what you're going to see, okay?" Celia looked at Calvin, her eyes widened. She glanced at the unit door, then back at Calvin. "What the hell's in here, man?" she asked quietly. "...terrible, awful things," Calvin said, almost on the verge of tears. *** Wyatt was driving, heading to the storage place while Rachel played with the dials on his car radio. "You have satellite radio, and I am so jealous," Rachel said, "I still use cassette tapes." "How is it possible that everytime I learn something new about you it makes me feel even worse?" Wyatt asked, "it's impressive, it really is. Stop turning that, you're gonna damage my knob!" he said as he slapped playfully at her hand. "Oh, I wouldn't want anything to happen to your knob," Rachel replied, cackling, "so where are we going, anyway?" "Calvin came by my house last night, gave me a key," Wyatt said as they came to a red light, only a block away from the storage place; Rachel put her window down and hung her arm out as Wyatt continued, "he told me to come to this storage place because he had something to show us. He told me to gather you and Celia, because he needed you guys to see it too." "What's so important about a storage unit?" Rachel asked. "...it belonged to Oliver Brighton," Wyatt said quietly, and this got Rachel's attention. Her head snapped to look at him, as he looked at her, almost like he was scared; he nodded, and added, softly "...i know..." When Wyatt and Rachel arrived, he parked and headed inside. He was holding the key in his hand, simply so he could remember the number of the unit and easily find the floor it was located on. It was cool and empty inside, almost an eerie feeling emanating from the building, as they headed down the long halls and up the stairs to the third floor. After a short bit on the third floor, they finally saw Calvin and Celia standing in front of the unit, chatting casually, quietly, until they saw Calvin point at them and Celia turned to look too. "We've been spotted, cap'n," Rachel said. "Set phasers to kill," Wyatt replied, making her laugh. "Do you have the key?" Calvin asked as they got closer, and Wyatt held it up in his hand, before handing it back to Calvin, who took it and inserted it into the lock on the door. The others stood by as he unlocked the door and then leaned against it and looked at them; he exhaled deeply and said, "...I'm so sorry you guys have to see this." Everyone exchanged a nervous glance, and Calvin slid the door up. *** "You sure you've got a good place?" Leonard asked on the phone, and Oliver turned around in the unit, looking at the boxes he'd moved in that day. "It's solid," Oliver replied, "it's roomy, spacious, secure, climate controlled. Nothing is going to happen to the merchandise here. And it doesn't even cost much." "Don't worry about the cost," Leonard said, "I'll reimburse you from what we make off the material. You did good, Oliver. So now when do we start production again? I have a lot of customers saying they liked what you did last time and are itching for more." Oliver leaned on a box and sighed, shaking his head. "I...I don't know," he said meekly, "I have to give them breaks, you know? Can't work 'em to death. It's hard to find a balance that satisfies everyone. Roberta is...unhappy, but it provides and right now that's all that matters. She doesn't know where the money is coming from at the moment, she just assumes it's from what I do at work, but even if she were to learn, she'd already be complicit for spending the money." "Of all my providers, you're the best," Leonard said, "I just want you to be ready, and feel secure enough to do what needs to be done. You take whatever time you need, just don't drag it out." "Yes sir." "I gotta go, I have another call," Leonard said, "Goodbye Oliver." Oliver looked at the phone after Leonard hung up and he sighed. He slid his flip phone back into his slack pockets and looked around at the boxes. It was only a few right now, but within a few years, it would be so many more, and by the time he killed his family, some stacks would be as high as the ceiling, and by the time the group found it that afternoon...the amount of filth in that unit would be unthinkable. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could've prepared them for what they were about to find. The empire Oliver Brighton had helped build, and on the back of his own daughters no less. *** The door slid up, letting the gang get a view of the interior, and at first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Calvin waited at the door as Celia, Wyatt and Rachel stepped inside. He then entered himself, shutting the door behind him and turning the lights on inside. Wyatt looked at the labels on the boxes and shook his head, confused and a little irritated. "You brought us out here to see Oliver's collection of unwanted crap? Crap so unwanted he couldn't be bothered to keep it in his house? This is baby clothes, this is magazines, this one just says 'old VHS tapes'. What the fuck is this, Calvin?" Wyatt asked. "...open one," Calvin said softly, so Rachel reached up and pulled the flaps to one box open, reaching inside and gathering a handful of CDs. She furrowed her brow, confused. "Steffie, Age 5, NCDAD," Rachel read, "what...what the fuck does that mean?" "Uh," Calvin said, scratching the back of his head, his voice wavery like he was about to cry, "The NC stands for nonconsent, and let's just leave it at that." Rachel immediately dropped the CD back into the box, disgusted. Wyatt then felt Celia tap his shoulder, as she handed him a small photo album. He took it from her, but then felt Calvin's hand on the cover. His eyes were locked with Wyatt's, and he shook his head, barely able to talk. "You don't wanna see it," Calvin said. "...I think I have to, to believe it," Wyatt said, pulling away and walking from the group, opening the book. His eyes, scanning each unthinkable page, began to tear up. These images would be forever seared into his brain, and he wanted to vomit. Calvin leaned against the boxes, trying to catch his breath as Rachel finally spoke again. "So...so he was..." Rachel said, "Oliver Brighton was making..." "Yes, with his own daughters," Calvin said, "...we...we killed a monster. Inadvertently, but still. If we hadn't blown up Grudin, if Oliver hadn't been blamed for your actions at the Morgana site, he might've gone on doing this forever. And maybe not just to his own daughters, but to someone elses. We didn't even know, but we helped kill a monster. But I needed you guys to know, so maybe...maybe the guilt isn't as heavy now. We did a good thing. The right thing." "Oh please," Rachel said, folding her arms, "Oliver was a byproduct, we had no idea he would be blamed, we didn't even know he worked at the site. We did something good, but entirely by accident. Don't act like it was intentional or noble. For it to be noble, we would've had to have set out to hurt him." "She's right," Celia said, kicking the floor with her heels, "I mean, don't get me wrong, he was disgusting and I'm glad he's dead if this was what he did, but...his involvement in our actions was merely coincidental. He just happened to be connected, remotely, to Morgana, and then be blamed for Grudin's death as well because of us." "That's what the sickest part, actually," Calvin said, rubbing his eyes, "is that now society sees him as this...this kind of...hero of some sort. Fighting against governmental injustice, all the while being completely blind to the horrors he was producing himself. They don't know what he was like, or what he did." "Should they?" Rachel asked, "...I mean...what good would it really do? Let's be real, far too many people support this kind of shit, they just do it behind closed doors. Perversions are perversions, regardless of whatever sort of decent actions one might do in their life now and then. I doubt anyone would change their opinion, especially those on the fringes who already support him. In fact, if nothing else, it'd just be considered slander, to ruin his name. He'd be marked an even bigger martyr than he already is." Wyatt calmly set the photo album down on top of one of the boxes and looked at the boxes surrounding him. These boxes, filled with unimaginable pain. Pain that came from two little girls, killed by their own father, who would never get to grow up and recover from his actions. Wyatt felt his stomach turn, and he quickly pushed past the group and pulled open the door, heading out into the hall, where he threw up on the floor. Celia quickly walked to him, patting his back, as Rachel and Calvin stayed inside the unit. "...well, what do we do with it?" Rachel asked. "I don't know. We could each take a bundle and destroy it in some way," Calvin said. "How'd you even get this key?" Rachel asked. "...it was on Mr. Wattsons keyring," Calvin said quietly, "which...I don't even wanna think about what that implies. I'm not ready to face that right now." Rachel looked around at the boxes, nodding. "I like the idea of disposing of it, little by little," Rachel said, "rid the world of a little bit more filth." "Are you okay?" Celia asked, kneeling down to Wyatt, who was still bent over, dry heaving; she touched his face and asked again, "hey, are you okay? Do you need anything?" "I...I can't be here," Wyatt said, "I feel dizzy." Wyatt stood up and headed down the hall, one hand on the wall to help guide him, Celia watching him go. As he disappeared down the stairs, Celia looked back at the unit, then followed Wyatt down the stairs. When she caught up with him in the second floor hall, he was walking briskly, better, but still looked like hell. Looked like he was sweating to death. "Wyatt, stop for a second and-" Celia said, grasping for his hand, but he wouldn't stop and instead jerked his hand away from her; she stomped her foot and shouted at him, "you wanted to make the world a better place for your daughter, right?! Well congratulations, you did it! You rid the world of someone wanting to do girls like her harm! Mission fucking accomplished!" Wyatt stopped in his tracks and thought briefly, before turning and walking back up to her. "His demise doesn't erase the damage," Wyatt said through his teeth, "he still got away with it! He still did it, for YEARS!" Celia was, admittedly, somewhat surprised at his tone, as she'd never heard Wyatt truly angry, but she stood her ground and listened to him. "I...how..." Wyatt stammered, as he reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, looking down at his shoes, "how could someone do that to their own child? To any child?" "I don't...I don't know," Celia replied, "but he's dead, Wyatt, he's gone. He can't do it anymore." "...i have to go," Wyatt said, turning on his heel to leave. "Where are you going?" Celia asked. "To pick my daughter up from school," Wyatt said. "But it's only 11 in the afternoon!" Celia shouted after him, but he didn't care, he was gone. Celia sighed and turned, heading back upstairs. She found Calvin locking the unit back up, Rachel leaning against the wall, arms folded. She turned and smiled weakly at Celia as she got closer, and Celia ran her hand through her black poofy hair, unsure of what to say. "So...if Mr. Wattson is involved..." Rachel said, "...what do we do about that? Like, sure, we can get rid of all this stuff and nobody ever has to know about it, but...what about him?" Yes, Calvin thought, what about him? *** Mona was sitting in class, chewing on the rubber stim necklace her father had gotten for her to keep her focused when doing schoolwork. Suddenly the door to the classroom opened, and a student came in, handed the teacher a note, then exited. The teacher read the note, then looked up at Mona. "Mona, sweetheart? Your dad is here to take you to the doctors," she said, "he's waiting in the hallway." Confused, Mona gathered her things and headed out of the classroom. She found her father sitting on a bench in the hallway, and as soon as he saw her, he got up and dropped to his knees, hugging her tightly, her eyes widening, her voice soft. "oh my god, I must be dying," Mona said, making Wyatt laugh. "No, there's...there's no doctors appointment, and you're not sick," Wyatt said, grabbing her things and taking one of her hands in his other hand, "I'm just taking you out of school for the day and we're gonna do whatever it is you wanna do." "Really?" Mona asked, sounding simultaneously uncertain yet excited. "Yeah, so what do you wanna do?" Wyatt asked. "....I wanna eat an ice cream cone in a toy store," Mona said, making Wyatt laugh and squeeze her hand. "Whatever you want, sweetheart," he said. Meanwhile, since Wyatt had left, Calvin gave Rachel a ride home. When she got back, she shut the door behind her and looked around at her empty apartment. Sun Rai wouldn't be back for a good while, so she had the place to herself for a bit. She couldn't stop seeing what she'd seen in the unit, and so she went to the bathroom and started drawing a bath. She put bath beads inside, then bubbles, and then she undressed and climbed into the tub. The imagery in the unit brought back memories of her near assault from her manager in college, and she found her breath clenching in her chest. She couldn't take it, and she started sobbing, wailing, in the bathtub. Celia, on the other hand, had done the same thing Wyatt had done. She'd called into work, excused herself for the day and gotten her son out of daycare. She then took him to a kids movie and out to lunch. Sitting there, eating lunch in a little restaurant, she couldn't help but feel even more protective of him now than she ever had before. This boy was an innocent, and she was determined to ensure he stayed that way. She couldn't blame Wyatt for feeling the way he did, but she sure wished she could help him see their actions in a different light, if nothing else. One boy at a time, she thought. Help one boy at a time. And Calvin, after dropping Rachel off at home, drove down to a lake just outside the city and popped open his trunk. He then pulled out a plastic tub from the backseat of his car and dumped all the contents of one of the boxes into the tub and set it on fire. Calvin stood there, watching this vile filth burn, but he couldn't stop thinking about Leonard. Why had he had Brightons key? How involved could he be? The answer terrified him. Once the materials were burnt to nothing more than ash, Calvin picked up the tub and emptied it into the lake, then did the same with two more boxes. He'd already helped rid the world of trash. Why not keep going, he figured.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
About
A group of former high school classmates reunite at their 10 year reunion, and discover they each want something different, many with someone else there. What ensues is a labyrinthian relationship amongst them involving crime, murder, romance and, in one particular case, terrorism. Archives
May 2024
Categories |