Mooching

Mooching
    Waking up to the sun light beaming in through the windows, searing my eyes to a state of uncomfortable consciousness, was never one of my few enjoyments in life. Awaking with this damn cold as well was putting a bit of a damper on my glad-to-wake-up-alive attitude as well, that I try to exude on a daily basis. I’ve had a persistent rash on my back for the past few days that is beginning to drive me mad and with each passing hour, it is getting harder and more laborious to get a good breathe of air, as if the proverbial straw I was breathing through was getting smaller and smaller.

    My brother must have delivered this ailment to me, unannounced, last week when he stopped by with a piece of leftover fruitcake from the holidays. The fact that it is April should have rung a large bell in my head. He didn’t seem sick, but then again, when he has been ill, he has denied it to the end. He was never really one for appearing weak in the eyes of others, especially his younger brother. I need to remember to press him on his health next time our paths cross.

    With the exception of this worsening cold, the day started like any other; Rummaging through the kitchen covers for any scrap of food I may have overlooked the day before. The optimist in me always made it seem as though there was something left behind, but I knew deep down that there was no treasure in those cupboards to be discovered.

    I really didn’t have much to do with my time that day except getting some food into my system. Come to think of it, I never really have anything to do with my time. I have never worked a day in my life; Leeching from others seemed to be a gift that I was granted with and I was not about to waste it. What few skills at this trade I lacked through birth, I ended up acquiring from my older brother that seems to have a knack for the same mooching lifestyle. My sister on the other hand got hitched and now relies on her better half to provide, which he excels at.

    Since the cold caught me, I really haven’t felt the desire to eat, but my weak limbs told me that I had no choice in the matter. Maybe I’ll stop by my sisters and raid her food supply. With that fleeting thought, I decided to leave my shanty of a home and start my venture to hers.

    It was not a long trip; she lives right around the corner from me. Very convenient if I do say so myself. I have always had a close relationship with her, even though sometimes I don’t believe she feels the same way. She has never come out and said anything to me about being such a scab, but then again, she has never smiled when handing me my dinner. One of these days, I will have to find a way to make it up to her. As a stay at home parent with nine kids, I know that it has had to be hard on her. I love my nieces and nephews to the point that I have tried to be a father figure to them, but they still see me as the fun uncle that lets them get away with murder. My sister on the other hand is very strict; everything in her home has a place and certain order to it. If it is not right to her, she will flip out and go ballistic.

    By the time I made it to her place, the daylight was fully out, illuminating every creased and crack in the concrete, allowing me to step over them one by one to save my mothers back. Her door was open and I could hear the scampering feet of my nieces and nephews running throughout the home. I stepped through the door and found myself greeted by John, the oldest of the bunch. "So, what do have planned for us today Uncle," he asked precariously. "Not much John, I’m feeling a bit under the weather today," I sadly answered. "Mom’s not feeling too well either," he responded as he ran off to catch up to the others in there game of tag. Now I’m worried. My sister never gets sick.

    I wondered through the home when I came across my sister sitting on the floor. "Sis," I asked. "Sorry Don, I haven’t been able to get out today. I don’t have much to eat," she said as if she could not catch her breathe. I wasn’t about to eat the last of her food, she has offspring to feed. I know I’m a leech, but I’m not an asshole. "Did Earl stop in with some of that leftover fruitcake last week," I asked as her curiously. "Yeah, it was quite good," she responded. My brother must be passing out bad cake and not realizing what he has done. "Have you seen Earl," I asked her. "Not since he came over with the cake, why," she asked. "Oh nothing, just haven’t seen him lately," I lied trying to keep my sister from worrying. "I’m gonna stop by his place and see what he’s been up to," I said as I made my way out the door.

    Luckily, for my feet, Earl stayed right down the way from my sister. I really didn’t feel like hiking today. By the time I made it to his place, the hunger in my belly subsided and was replaced with a loud growl that was reminding me that I needed to be fed. I entered Earls shamble of a home, not to say that I lived at the Ritz, but he really lived like a pig. I didn’t need to take more then one step into his abode to see the left over crumbs of last nights dinner littering his floor.

    "Earl, you here," I asked trying to step myself around the mess. The answer I got was a few crunches of stale chips crushing under my appendages. He must have stepped out, but to where? There really aren’t too many places he ventures off to. Deciding to take my leave before the smell of rotten food became too overwhelming, I stepped out to the front of his home and noticed something I had not seen before. To the right of his home, about 50 feet or so, was a large black building, about the size of Earls place and my sisters rolled up into one. It must have been some old, slum building that was recently renovated, but the wonderful smell of steak teasing my senses told me otherwise. Ah, maybe it’s a new restaurant.

    I scurried over to make sure I was right before making promises to my stomach that I could not keep. The front of the building was wide opened and it looked to be gutted. There was not an ounce of anything in this place, just a giant building. I poked my head through the opening and wondered where the smell of food was coming from. I really couldn’t see much in the way of any food or even anybody in the building. I did see a small shadow in the far corner that struck my curiosity, but that was about it. Maybe the shadow I was seeing was some ones dinner left behind from one of the buildings workers. I have never been much for germ control or anything like that, but then again, I never recalled eating after anyone that I didn’t know, but my stomach was rumbling.

    Deciding to abandon my morals for a slice of the good life, I stepped into the building to search out the source of this tempting smell. The second step into the building made me sort of frantic when I realized that I was now stuck to the floor. There was some kind of white paste that was layering the floor making it very hard for me to move forward. My hunger took over and moved my legs back and forth until I was some what free to take another step. I tried my best not to allow my entire foot to touch the ground, but I was not getting any less stuck than I was with the first step.

    Painfully, I reached the halfway mark of the room, revealing the true form of the shadow that was catching my attention. It was not a left over morsel from some ones lunch, it was my brother Earl. "Earl," I screamed hoping to get some type of response, but there was no movement. I moved my self slowly but surely closer to his slumped body. I got about 3 feet from him when I realized that he was dead. His back was crouched against the wall as if he to were stuck and could not move, deciding to rest his body against the adjoining wall. By the looks of the amount of decay that had set in, he had been here for days.

    I was going to move in a bit closer when my legs just gave out from the strain of moving and would allow me to move no more. I was screwed. I began yelling for help, but as I knew before I came in, there was no one around to here my pleas. Just when I thought all was lost, changing this gutted building to a two brother coffin, the foundations began to shift and teeter. One shake, a few seconds past and then another. I have lived in Florida for my entire life and have yet to experience an earthquake. Was this building about to come down on my head or what? I had enough strength left to move my foot one more time, getting a bit closer to my brothers body. I grabbed one of his arms to hold on to keep from falling to the sticky floor. The building began to shake back and forth when his arm gave way and snapped off from the shoulder like a dry twig. The stench of rotting flesh permeated from the gaping wound, overpowering the aroma of steak that first led me into this building. To my horror, I was now holding my dead brothers arm flailing about akin to some idiot that had lost his mind. I threw it across the room and looked back towards the entrance for some sign of life to help me out of here.

    I could see the ground outside as large shadows began to swallow the light from the concrete as if a very large storm was approaching. Great, not only will no one hear my screams for help, but my voice will have to fight with the sleeting rain for sound. The building began to shake once more when I lost my balance and found myself lying on my back, completely stuck to the floor.

    The ground slowly disappeared as the building continued its tremors when I saw something flash in front of the opening. I could not make out the object that passed, but for some reason, my mind was taken back to when I was younger, hearing stories about these giant creatures that inhabited certain parts of our land. As far as I can remember, when these things came around, you ran for your life. If they saw you, I was told to play dead and sometimes they would overlook you, being creatures of poor sight and intelligence. Lucky for me, I have never had the joy of being in the company of one of these beasts, but it appears that my luck may have run out.

    "I caught another one," bellowed a large, deep voice from beyond the entrance that shook the walls of the building. "Look, look," said the voice as a giant white orb, sitting in a mouth lined with long strands of hair that kept opening and shutting, engulfed the entrance of the building. I have never seen anything so big in my life; these must be the giants that I heard about. I tried to lift my head from the floor to get a better look at my impending death, but my body was not going any where.

    "I knew these new roach motels were good for something," said another voice as the building started to plunge to the ground. "Who are you calling a roach," I screamed as the building hit the ground with a great thud, rolling my body over in the sticky sludge until I was laying on my face, head deep in goop. "I’m a German cockroach," my mouth bubbled from beneath the sticky paste that was soon to become my grave.