The Cave | The Hand of God
I sat at my bench, covered with a thin film of dust, much like my surroundings. I had been at work an hour or so and was bored. I was also somewhat concerned as Lazar had not arrived yet. Usually he was there long before me. I looked over at Judd, who seemed completely oblivious to his environment.. even to the John Mellencamp (or was it Bob Seger… I suppressed the music at the deepest levels of my consciousness long, long ago) blaring on his CD player. He was hunched forward staring intently at his computer monitor. As usual, his leg shook like that of a dog having just the right spot on his back scratched. I wondered if it excited him sexually.
Judd had just had his long, straggled hair sculpted into one of the most disturbing mullets I’d ever beheld. From the front, it looked like Eddie Munster’s hair, and from the back, it was a long, solid, brown sheet. I couldn’t believe he had managed to squeeze that ridiculous style out of any self-respecting barber.
“Break time!” I was startled as Judd popped out of his chair and quickly headed for the employee exit. I grabbed my cigarettes and followed, happy for a change of scenery.
Outside, we were met by Bob, the rent-a-guard. Bob was an older man, somewhere between his 40s and 50s with thin white hair and mustache. He was assigned to a make-shift station that had been incompetently constructed next to a broken metal detector we all had to pass through on our way in and out. Bob spent most of his time reading magazines and staring longingly out the opened mouth of the cave which served as a freight area. He hated having to work in the cave and seemed to put effort only into avoiding securing anything. He almost encouraged theft, it seemed.
Ashley and her boyfriend had been to Bob’s apartment for dinner. There, she told me, they had met Bob’s boyfriend and were served leftovers reheated after the mold was scraped off the top.
I lit up a Marlboro Light, Judd lit up a Winston and Bob was smoking some long, thin brown thing.
“I signed up for another affiliate site, ” Judd began.
I rolled my eyes. The guy never spoke of anything else.
“And it turned out to be a gay site! I ain’t linkin’ to a bunch of fags.”
My face turned red and I glanced at Bob, trying not to let on that I knew anything about his sexuality. My mind raced for a way to change the subject. Anxiety began to creep in as I realized the longer I was taking to come up with another subject, the more painfully silent it was becoming, making that remarkably stupid comment all the more embarrassing.
“Uh… so… do you think they’re going to impeach Clinton?”
Bob shrugged, silently.
“The fuckin’ Republicans just want to get another Republican in office!” Judd theorized.
“Ummm. Well. If Clinton gets removed, then Al Gore will be president.”
Judd stared blankly.
“He’s a Democrat.”
Judd turned, flicked his cigarette away and stomped back inside, “Don’t wanna talk about it!”
Bob and I looked at each other, brows furrowed and shook our heads.
I returned to my seat and, after some inestimable period of foggy boredom, I heard that gravelly, Russian voice, “Ghar-rhon! Ghar-rhon!” Lazar was most disconcerting in his excited state. Like some sort of nuclear reaction about to go out of control.
Breathless, Lazar rushed to my bench, “Me big fuck drive!” I could tell by his gestures he had been driving.
“Big truck!” behind a large truck.
“Uh, uh…” he searched for the word, “wheel!” The wheel came off the truck?
“Plate… plate…” The license plate?
“Wheel! Cover!” Ah, the hubcap flew off!
“Whooosh! No speak Baaam!” The truck crashed.
“Window!! Window!!” No, the hubcap came at his window.
“Whoosh!” And flew over his car.
“Hand!” Uhhh…?
“God, Ghar-rhon! God! Hand!” The hand of God moved the hubcap away from his car…
A truck, I had pieced together more from the interpretive dance than from the words, had lost a hubcap ahead of Lazar. It had flown toward him but, just in the nick of time, the Hand of God plucked it out of the way, thus saving Lazar.
“Oh, yeah…” Lazar assured me, matter-of-factly before going over to his bench and making growling noises whenever a woman would go topless on his Jerry Springer Uncensored video.
I watched him a few moments, over there leering and drooling at the bare breasts, and wondered what God had been doing with his other hand.
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