What Are
You Looking At? 19
While cleaning the halls of a
health facility, one must be extra vigilant and pay much more care
than he or she normally would when disinfecting, vacuuming, and
sweeping. One's eyes must scan with the efficiency of a radar,
although a Roomba or other robotic device could eat debris with much
more accuracy than a human ever could. Infrared light can detect
rubbish as tiny as a splinter of wood within multicolored and
disorienting carpet, which usually passes by an organic retina just
the same as a pebble, rock of road salt, or even a few errant
raisins. This is the issue that Zack has suffered throughout the past
three years as a supervisor at Pine Rest Psychiatric Care.
As a thirty-year-old man with mild
cerebral palsy, he's beaten many odds, especially in his childhood,
but it's given him a slight sense of agitation towards others and
the world in general. He can easily complete any physical labor job
given to him, although it might seem a bit awkward to a passing
spectator, but he's built a life for himself, although he never
tried exceptionally hard in school and dropped out of college after
two years. As the three-year manager of his cleaning crew, he's
been responsible for the oversight of four separate buildings, but
he's usually able to keep his employees, most of whom lack the
discipline it requires to work without management, under strict
control.
His workers include two bathroom
cleaners, two walkers that change the trash and take care of soiled
linen and hazardous materials, two males with portable vacuums (he
wouldn't want a woman to suffer the throes of a ten-pound backpack
compressing their spines), and a wiper, which cleans down walls,
windows, desks, and door knobs. The only problems Zack's ever had
with his subordinates seem to be with the vacuumers. The trashers
rarely ever miss any cans, recycling, or biohazard waste. The
bathroom cleaners detail on the first day of the week and then
maintain for the next four days. The wiper, as the senior of the
group, has worked this campus for five years, thus trumping Zack's
tour of duty. Only the vacuumers ever have trouble with their
assigned areas, and their position is that of a revolving door.
Throughout the night, each cleaner
begins their job, splitting the work between "odds", who clean
wards A and C, and "evens", who clean B and D; Zack, the person
responsible for every other worker's actions, begins his walk
forty-five minutes after everyone else has started. His walk covers
all four buildings in a specific order, traveling clockwise
throughout the medical facilities, where he will check the trash cans
and recycling, each of the seemingly hundreds of bathrooms split into
quarters between each ward, and the desks, walls, windows, and
linoleum floors, and, as he travels from room to room, the carpets,
which, obviously, cover most of the surface area. The carpets in
wards A and C have been left exceptionally messy every single day
since, he's surmised, the new "odd" vacuumer, Kevin, has
started.
The previous vacuumer, Andy, was
not the greatest at his job, but he didn't require Zack's
constant and tiring surveillance like Kevin does. Andy, rather than
wearing his heavy backpack, would go around the halls and pick every
bit of debris with his fingers and place the garbage in his pockets.
At the end of each shift, he would empty his bulging pockets, and
Zack would chastise him since he'd inevitably miss small piles of
dirt, powdery road salt, and coffee grounds, but Andy would never
change his method. His lethargic work was just passable enough
to not elicit the wrath of the monthly inspector, but Zack was still
never pleased with his worker.
To add to Andy's short list of
benign enemies, the wiper, Rudy, had grown tiresome of the vacuumer's
perceived intent in not pushing the office chairs back in after
pulling them out, since the inspector would blame Rudy for this
minute, arbitrary detail. Zack had always viewed this complaint as
trivial, since Rudy could easily trail behind the vacuumer and push
the chairs in himself, but, after five years of working the same job
and shift with little to no change other than in his coworkers,
Rudy's routine had become that of a rut, and any significant change
was enough to cause him annoyance. He would begin to leave bottles,
cups of coffee, and other small yet noticeable items underneath the
chairs and throughout the hallways to get revenge on Andy, but the
dubious intent only spiraled into Andy's retribution, which
involved the vacuumer leaving fingerprints on various windows. This
feud would take different forms with different "odd" vacuumers,
but it would always result from Rudy's lust for a normal, simple
routine.
One day, Andy showed up to work,
and Zack immediately noticed that his skin was slightly grayed. Andy
would complain about acute exhaustion and cramps, but he would
continue to work despite Zack's advice of seeing a doctor, which,
ironically, Andy would reject despite working in a medical facility.
Shortly thereafter, his stomach began to bloat, causing pain around
the area where his waist strap would tighten. Eventually, he
succumbed to Zack's pleas, and he discovered that he had a rare
form of liver cancer, which entered the third stage of malignance.
Had he waited one more week, he would have more than likely died.
After learning the harrowing news, Andy quit working and began to
focus on treatment and recovery.
To Zack's dismay, after Kevin
was hired as Andy's replacement, he realized that he would rather
deal with the former "vacuumer's" picking methods than suffer
through Kevin's horrendous work ethic, offensive odor of unwashed
clothing and flatulence, and overall uncomfortable presence--even
Rudy would have rather dealt with Andy's childish behavior. As a
twenty-eight-year-old man whose weight exceeds four-hundred pounds,
he has difficulty wearing his vacuum, traversing the long, winding
halls of the two buildings he must hobble through each night, and
even bending down to tie his shoes. As a result of this, combined
with his poor eyesight, he misses, as Zack has told him for each of
the four nights he's worked thus far, "an unforgiveable amount."
Zack is blunt with his employees, but he does have sympathy to some
degree. He knows that Kevin is overweight and needs to wear glasses
with thick frames, and he's suggested that the new vacuumer finds
another job, but Kevin insists that he can fix his mistakes.
"J-just trust me," he stutters
in his deep, gruff voice. "I-I can do it. I-I've cleaned places
tw-twice this size." Zack wants to tolerate Kevin's incompetence,
but he's also grown tired of having to pick up Kevin's slack and
either strap on the second backpack when the other
imperfect-yet-virile vacuumer has finished or shuffle through his
walk while carrying a cordless upright vacuum. All the same, he
decides that he'll give Kevin one last shot. If he can't step up
and improve himself, he'll be gone by Monday.
Beginning their nightly routine,
Zack and his "odd" crew start with the ward that attends to
personality, mood, and related disorders, such as bipolar, borderline
personality, and various schizotypal disorders. Referred to as "ward
A", this building does not house any patients, but psychiatrists
and doctors treat clients who visit for routine checkups. These
neurological victims must have their blood pressure recorded, weigh
themselves, and sometimes have their blood drawn, so it's
imperative that every room is spotless and reeks of lemon-scented
cleaning supplies by the end of the night.
Seated in the break room in the A
ward, Zack scrolls through his Facebook feed and eats pre-packaged
cheddar popcorn in an uncomfortable computer chair. The break room is
a tight enclosure, but it can still fit the eight employees if need
be. The wall to the left of the entrance is stacked with all the
supplies the cleaners will ever need, such as toilet paper,
disinfectant chemicals, and vacuum bags. If one is to walk straight
ahead after entering, he or she will stumble over carpet cleaners,
tile scrubbers, and other large equipment, which all sits in front of
the desk that Zack presently sits behind as the large metal door
slowly swings shut in about thirty seconds.
Every night, for forty-five
minutes, he listens to the hum of the fluorescent light bulbs that
hang over his head, and, although one of the tubes flickers slightly,
he never bothers to order a replacement, and he never even glances
up. He hears a subtle rumbling sound, signifying a loose aluminum
vent plate in the upper back corner of the small room shakes
violently as the furnace pumps warm air. Similarly to his lethargy
towards the lights, he's annoyed by the sound of the vent cover,
but he never bothers to take a screwdriver and tighten the screw
that's loosened over the past few years. He hypocritically curses
his vacuumer's laziness, while he, himself, wishes to do even
work than anybody else. His job is delegation, and he revels in
his, as he perceives, astute accomplishment--years bent over a grill
flipping cheeseburgers, taking orders, and sweeping fries in a
fast-food restaurant has finally paid off.
After forty-five minutes of
relaxation, he knows that Kevin has likely moved on to the second
half of A. To clean both respective "odd" buildings, the job
usually takes no more than four hours, or about two hours each. Rudy
is the only one who takes the entire allotted shift of five hours,
but it's because he works the only wiping position and is
responsible for each of the four wards. However, Kevin moves much
quicker than any other previous vacuumer in his position and faster
than any of the current employees in general, which Zack finds
suspicious considering he's also the heaviest vacuumer the company
has ever hired, but Zack posits that it's probably because he skips
over many areas.
As Zack begins his walk, he's
immediately flustered by Kevin's negligence as he's been every
other night so far. There are salt-laden foot prints up and down
every hallway, and, even in just the front secretaries' offices,
it's evident by the trail mix, bits of tissues, and paper hole
punches that Kevin didn't pull any of the chairs out and missed the
offices completely. The back of his skull growing warm with
annoyance, Zack briskly travels throughout ward A on a hunt for
Kevin. He listens for the whirring of a vacuum or its bright yellow
cord, peeking through the tiny square windows of doors that lead down
hallways but sees no sign of the large, bear-like man. Finally, he
spots Kevin's backpack, which lays on its side adjacent to
relatively spotless bathrooms.
"Kevin?" he calls, but there's
no reply. "Kevin!" Rudy passes by, having heard Zack's
beckoning.
"He's over there," he sighs,
pointing his eyes down the hallway to the right while spraying his
rag with disinfectant. He's a tall man with a slightly dark
complexion and short black hair. His eyes are usually obscured by his
glasses, but when he speaks, he tilts his head down towards the
ground and his pupils peek up above his lenses, which seem to slide
down his nose. Zack always thinks it's a bit smug, but he never
mentions anything that would attack the wiper's character. "There's
something off about that guy."
"You're telling me," Zack
replies as he leans up against a door frame.
"No," Rudy continues. His
glasses have slid further down his nose. "There's something
seriously wrong with him. He's gained a lot of weight since he
started."
"Huh?" Zack replies a bit
bewildered. He hadn't paid much attention to the already obese man
to notice any obvious weight gain, and he's more perplexed by the
idea that anybody could grow significantly in less than one week.
"That nasty red shirt clings to
him like Saran wrap," Rudy says, spraying his cloth with
disinfectant. "It used to dangle off him. He told me he eats
plastic."
"I don't know about all that,"
Zack scoffs, dismissing Rudy's ridiculous observations. "I think
he was fucking with you, but I can tell you one thing: he ain't
right." At this dismissal, Rudy raises his eyebrows and moves his
mouth to one side as if to indicate that Zack is stating an obvious
fact, such as that the sky is blue.
"Have you tried telling Terri?"
Rudy questions, staring at his cloth as he continues to soak it in
chemicals.
"Not yet," Zack replies
shortly. "But she'd probably want me to give him another shot."
"What's there to see?" Rudy
retorts, his tone shifting down.
"You're telling me," Zack
sighs as if defeated. He stares at the pile of smelly trash and
wrinkles his nose as he closes his eyes. "Not to give up before
we've even tried, but it looks like we might be stuck with him."
"Maybe you have to take matters
into your own hands," Rudy says after a moment of silence. "Or
maybe someone else has to." At this, he grabs his cart with one
gloved hand and pushes it through the rest of ward A. Zack glances
back towards where Rudy had just stood and wonders if there even is
any way to nix Kevin or if he's simply fighting a pointless
war. Then again, he ponders, he hasn't even tried to remedy the
situation besides his failed attempts at fixing Kevin's work ethic.
It would be rather uncharacteristic of himself, he decides, to give
up now. He continues on to where Rudy had directed and finds Kevin
inside the office of a bipolar specialist. He's glancing upwards at
the top of the doctor's bookcase, which seats her various framed
graduate degrees and a picture of she and her husband.
"What are you doing?" Zack
barks. "You missed, like, four rooms back by the secretary
offices."
"Wh-which ones?" Kevin asks,
still fixated on the picture frames.
"1200, 1300, 1350, and 1400,"
Zack replies, listing a finger for each room. "And there's
a bunch of salt in each of the hallways."
"I-I don't know what you're
talking about," Kevin replies. His eyes haven't deviated from the
top of the bookshelf, and Zack feels a bit irritated.
"Come on, Kevin," he sighs,
just as Rudy had moments ago. "You shouldn't be looking at that
stuff."
"Wh-what do you mean?" Kevin
replies, turning to face his manager, but his eyes continue to point
up towards the ceiling. "I-I wasn't looking at--" He cuts
himself off and his pupils, surrounded by gray-blue irises, rapidly
dilate. Confused by his employee's constant upward gaze, Zack tells
Kevin to go over to the offices and wait. As the large vacuumer
hobbles over towards his backpack, Zack's aghast by his pungent
odor and surmises he must not change his clothes, especially since
he's worn the same plain red t-shirt since his first day. Kevin
straps on his vacuum and wobbles towards the offices, and, once out
of sight, Zack peeks into the doctor's office and sees that Kevin
had been staring at a vent. It's tightly fit to the wall and
doesn't make any sound like the one in the break room. Zack scoffs
at Kevin's strange nature and his lingering odor and goes to meet
him.
In room 1200, Zack points to a
couple piles of salt. They're not extremely noticeable at a quick
glance, but it's apparent to him or anyone who is looking for
messes that the floor is dirty.
"I don't see what you're
pointing at," Kevin confesses. His eyes are searching the ceiling
again, and Zack grits his teeth.
"Kevin," he spits. "You need
to look at the carpet."
"I know, I know," Kevin
replies impatiently. He powers on his vacuum and starts to run the
head across the floor randomly, all the while his eyes remain aloof.
Zack reaches over and flips the switch off.
"Kevin," he repeats for
what seems like the hundredth time. "You're not looking at
the carpet."
"This is bullshit!" Kevin
retorts, his voice raising in pitch like a frustrated eight-year-old.
"I already fucking did this!" Zack's slightly taken
aback and licks his lips. He's never had an employee cuss at him or
even snip back in such a manner. Although he's fantasized an
opportunity to get physical with Kevin, which would put him many
hours of Muay Thai lessons to use, he's caught off-guard by his
sudden defenses.
"Look..." Zack finally replies
as Kevin breathes rapidly, his eyes on the ceiling. "Just keep
doing what you were doing." Kevin yanks his cord from the outlet
and storms out of the offices. As the door sluggishly shuts, Zack can
hear the disgruntled vacuumer mumbling to himself.
"I-I'm trying..."
~
After Kevin's poor performance
moments ago, Zack decides to follow Rudy's advice and call his
boss, Terri, who ultimately oversees this contracted area as well as
three others around the city. He tells her about Kevin's outburst
first and foremost, but she simply says that she'll come Monday to
chat with him.
"What's there to talk about?"
Zack replies, losing his patience further. "He's an idiot. At the
very least, he shouldn't be vacuuming if he has to wear 5-XL
shirts. He always complains about breathing problems."
"Well," Terri begins. "Maybe
we can train him on trashing."
"Both the current trashers are
women," Zack retorts with a sneer. "You can't take their job
away from them and then force them to wear those heavy-ass backpacks.
They're both so skinny as it is. It'll twist their spines."
"Well, I don't know what to
tell you, then," Terri replies apathetically. "It's gonna be
months before they hire anyone else in. You know how it goes around
here. Takes them forever to do the background check. You're just
gonna have to put up with it."
"Fine," Zack replies, standing
up from his computer chair as cheddar popcorn crumbs sprinkle onto
the cold cement floor. "I'll fire him myself. I'll strap that
stupid thing on and clean this whole damn place if it means getting
rid of that moron." He hangs up and drops his phone into his
pocket. "I knew that would happen..." he mumbles to himself. As
he starts towards the door to deliver his severance, he hears the
familiar vibrating of the loose furnace vent. "First things first,"
he mutters. "Let's fix this cocksucker." He roots around
through the toolbox he'd brought from home and can't seem to find
a Phillips head screw driver. "I just bought the fucker," he
complains. He settles with a flathead screw driver and, with slight
difficulty, tightens a screw that had probably loosened over time,
and all errant noises--besides the light bulbs overhead--cease.
Feeling halfway fulfilled, Zack
continues towards cutting away the tumor that is Kevin and begins his
walk. To his surprise, though, the salt, crumbs, and scraps have all
vanished. He peers into every one of Kevin's assigned areas and
they're spotless. There's no sign of the cord and no whining of a
vacuum, so he wanders through the crisp winter air towards ward C,
which is about an eighth of a mile away. Snow crunches beneath his
dirty sneakers, and he begins to ease up as he deeply inhales. He
marvels at how quiet the world seems when fresh snow blankets the
ground. However, he knows that he will be much more at relaxed and
relieved in light of Kevin's absence, so he furrows his brow and
keeps his destination at the forefront of his mind.
As he enters ward C, he's
immediately met with a foul odor. It seems to be emanating from the
air ducts, but he also quickly realizes that it's the familiar
smell of Kevin's body. He barrels through the hallways, plugging
his nose, as his eyes dart down each corridor. Soon thereafter, he
sees Kevin's cord and follows it to find the backpack is once again
on the ground.
"Kevin!" Zack shouts as
his infuriation begins to peak. Exactly following the last time he
had been searching for Kevin, Rudy appears around the corner, which
catches him off guard. Normally, Rudy would only be on ward B, so he
must either be moving quickly tonight, which is not likely, or he's
jumping around his normal routine to try and get ahead of Kevin. In
the same tone and manner as about an hour earlier, Rudy informs Zack
of Kevin's location. Following the directions, he hears the
rustling of metal and the sound of heavy boots thudding onto carpet.
He follows the noises and sees Kevin within another doctor's
office. It's the office of an obsessive-compulsive specialist, and
when Zack sees the strange vacuumer hide something behind his back,
he crosses his arms and shakes his head. "What could you possibly
be doing in here?"
"N-n-nothing," he begins, his
eyes fixated upwards as usual. "I-I was just--"
"Don't take that backpack off
again until you're done," Zack orders sternly. He stands and
waits for Kevin to leave the room, but he doesn't. "What are you
waiting for?"
"I-I-I'll do it in a second,"
he replies as colossal beads of sweat drip from his forehead and
chin. The armpits of his red t-shirt are dark with perspiration, and
his arms are still behind his back in an obvious attempt to conceal
something.
"What are you holding?" Zack
asks. He's more than fed up with Kevin's behavior, so when the
large man doesn't reply, Zack starts to enter the room, and Kevin
backs up into the desk, knocking over a lamp that had been seated
upon it. "Kevin! You're making a mess!"
"Leave me alone!" Kevin
screams as he pushes past Zack and waddles out the door. In his
bizarre rush, he had dropped the object he had been hiding, which was
the missing screw driver from Zack's toolbox. Kevin hustles through
the hallway towards an unknown location, pushing past Rudy, who had
been listening to the altercation, and scooping his vacuum in tandem.
As Zack holds his recovered tool, he wonders why Kevin had been so
afraid to reveal it. Then, he glances up towards where the large,
strange man had been staring and sees a vent cover similar to the one
in the break room and in the bipolar psychiatrist's office. A chair
had been pushed into the corner of the room beside the door, and Zack
concludes that Kevin must have been standing on it to get inside the
vent. He pulls the chair underneath the duct and climbs up onto it as
he had earlier, but, rather than tightening the screw, he begins to
loosen it. The same odor that Kevin always emits is emanating from
the vent, and he holds his breath as he unscrews the second bolt.
When he releases the aluminum cover, soiled linens, bloody gauze, and
used needles spill out onto the floor, and the smell worsens.
"What the fuck?" he
shrieks. Had Kevin been hiding trash inside the vent? Had he done the
same throughout the rest of the C ward? What could be the purpose?
Zack's head swims with questions as he stares, mouth agape, at the
garbage beneath his feet. Rudy glances in from the side as if mildly
interested and then continues through his routine. Before cleaning
the mess, Zack decides to try and find Kevin once again, but, as he
jogs throughout the rest of the facility, he realizes that the rest
of the floors are clean. He sprints back to the A ward, careful not
to slip on any ice, and into the break room. He sees Kevin's vacuum
seated in its usual place, and his key ring and card are on the desk.
~
The next day, Zack confronts Kevin
about the air vents. The large man had been sitting along the brick
wall outside the building long before Zack arrived. When he unlocks
the door, Kevin stands up as quickly as his body allows him to and
hurriedly queues up behind his manager, who is forced to hasten his
pace. As Zack slides into his seat in the break room, he asks Kevin
about the medical trash, and the vacuumer bumbles an obvious lie.
"I-I-I thought... I had to
c-clean them out." Zack pinches his eyebrows together as Kevin
continues to fib, and he finally tells Kevin that as long as he
continues to clean as well as he had the previous night and stays
away from the vents, he can keep his job. At this ultimatum, Kevin's
eyes seem to light up and dilate again, although they're still
facing directly up and over Zack's head, and he dons his backpack
without fastening any of the straps and rushes out into ward A while
mumbling to himself.
"I'm doing it for you," he
utters as he passes through the heavy metal door and crosses Rudy's
path. Zack doesn't pay this much mind, and he decides that he'll
call human resources himself and tell them about Kevin's violent
outbursts and his mysterious obsession with the air vents. He knows
that he doesn't hold much ground, since Kevin's begun to pick up
his slack and is actually doing a better job than the other vacuumer,
but he still figures it's worth a shot. He notices that the vent
behind him is rattling again, so he climbs back up and tightens it,
but he's met with the same foul odor. Furiously, he opens the vent
and more trash spills out as Rudy enters the break room through the
door as it slowly creeps shut.
"Rudy," Zack snarls through
clenched teeth. "If you see Kevin fucking around with the vents,
you let me know, alright?"
"Will do," Rudy sighs as he
gathers his supplies.
After cleaning up the air duct
garbage, Zack goes to the bathroom to wash his hands, but he winds up
inadvertently spending the remainder of his usual grace period within
the stall as he questions Kevin's possible motives. What could a
person gain from sticking trash into the vents? Is it some sort of
prank? He surmises that the reason Kevin's been moving so fast is
so that he can get ahead of the trashers, who move relatively
rapidly, and take all the medical waste to the air ducts before
anybody sees him. The thought that he would touch bloody bandages and
linen covered in bacteria, disease, and fecal matter makes him recoil
and gag. He sits in the stall for thirty more minutes while browsing
Facebook and other social media. Finally, he decides to begin his
walk.
As he starts down the first
hallway, he can already see that Kevin hasn't done any of his work.
The floors are laden with salt as usual, so, rather than trying to
find the incompetent vacuumer, he decides to go back to the break
room right away and grab the upright vacuum. He passes Rudy, who
walks briskly without his cart, and does a double take. He wants to
ask the veteran wiper why he's still in ward A, but he stops
himself short because he knows Rudy is the last person he should be
worried about, although it's odd to see him breaking his usual
routine. He continues on to the break room, cussing to himself, and
he opens the door and sees Kevin unscrewing the vent that had just
been tightened.
"What the fuck are you
doing?" Zack bellows, and Kevin, startled, jumps as the
loosened vent drops to the ground, spilling trash everywhere, and the
Phillips head screw driver flings up into the air.
"I-I-I-I..." He blubbers, but
he doesn't say anything else as his eyes dart around the ceiling.
"Enough," Zack begins,
still shouting. "It looks like I'm gonna have to babysit you for
the rest of the night, but, tomorrow, you're fucking out of
here!" He stomps over to grab Kevin by the shirt to drag him
out of the office, but the large man pulls a used needle from out of
his pocket and makes rapid stabbing motions towards Zack, who backs
up to where he was previously standing.
"Get away from me!"
Kevin screams and reaches into his bulging pocket with his other
hand. He's produced a handful of bloody gauze and stuffs them into
his mouth and swallows, choking the dry mound down his throat. Zack
stands frozen in utter confusion as Kevin pulls more gauze and linen
out of his pockets continues to eat it all, sometimes chewing and
sometimes immediately swallowing. He gasps for breath between
mouthfuls, all the while his eyes stare unblinking at the ceiling.
Mouth agape, Zack tries to cough out any word at all, but it's
fruitless. Then, as Kevin finishes the last bits in his pocket, he
gathers up the rest of the trash that had fallen out of the duct and
fills his pockets. He jerks his hand in pain as he clasps a few
needles that penetrate his palm and fingers, but he continues to
garner whatever he possibly can as if it were a pile of dollars and
coins. He cocks his head to the side and shrieks, "I did this for
you!" Zack quickly glances over his shoulder to see Rudy's
figure in the slightly ajar door frame from the corner of his eye
before turning back to meet Kevin's twisted face.
"Kevin," Zack utters, his
voice quivering, and the vacuumer turns to fully face his manager,
finally looking him in the eyes.
"He told me to do it!" he
screams. "Every time I eat, he tells me to eat more!"
Zack tries to comprehend Kevin's
confession, but he replies by asking "Who?"
"Him!" Kevin points towards
the door, and Zack turns to look again, but nothing except the heavy
metal door is present, and he asks himself if Rudy had really been
standing there a moment ago. "Now I can't stop eating! He says,
'eat more and more', and... I-I..." Suddenly, having cleaned
the pile, he breaks away from his proclamation and towards the door,
head down like a running back, and Zack dives out of the way as the
large man grips the handle, flings it open, and disappears into the A
ward and out the front door. Processing what he had just witnessed,
Zack finally decides, apprehensively, to peek out of the office as
the heavy metal door continues to close. He sees Rudy standing by the
A ward's entrance.
"Kevin split," he says in a
slightly chipper tone. Zack doesn't reply, but he stands and stares
with widened eyes. Truly, he can't understand the mental anguish
that had befallen the now ex-vacuumer, and nobody ever will, he
concludes. He shuffles towards the glass door and sees Kevin's wide
footprints in the freshly fallen snow leading a path towards an
unknown destination. He had never questioned Kevin's mode of
transportation, but, as it seems, he had no vehicle and probably
relied on public transportation or his own feet to get to and from
work. He realizes, in stark horror, that Kevin hadn't dropped off
his keys or card, so he decides that the only option is to call the
police to tell them that a worker had quit and stolen the keys and
card, thus creating the possibility of a security breach. When two
officers arrive twenty minutes later, they tell Zack, grimly, that
another patrol had already found Kevin facedown about half a mile
away from this location.
"It looks
like he slipped on some ice and hit his head," one of the officers
states. However, rather than becoming disheartened, Zack is relieved.
~
Of course, since Kevin quit (and died), Zack's had to fulfill
the role as "odd" vacuumer, since no other replacement has yet
been processed. Although he would have been upset a week earlier,
he's content in knowing that all his current workers are "normal",
albeit a bit strange in their own ways; Rudy, most of all, has fully
returned to his rut. The first day after Kevin's death, Zack
cleaned out a total of fifteen vents, all of which were full of
medical waste that Kevin, presumably, had intended to ingest.
"I told you something was wrong with him," Rudy would say
every time he passed Zack as he cleaned out a vent. The wiper had
never expressed any horror, dismay, or even respectful grief for his
fallen coworker. His brief statements represent, to Zack, a sense of
accomplishment--it's as if Rudy knew Kevin's destiny. Presently,
Zack sits in the break room and scrolls through Facebook. After five
minutes of ads, news articles, and click bait, he sees the local news
station has posted a story about Kevin. Zack blinks rapidly and
swallows as he's met with Kevin's upwards stare, taken from a
Facebook selfie, but he then reads the headline, which says, "Man
found dead with stomach full of garbage". He clicks on the article
and reads it.
According to autopsy reports, Kevin's entire digestive tract had
been stuffed full of plastic, gauze, and linen. It's unclear how
long he had been ingesting the objects, but it's theorized, as Rudy
had stated weeks earlier, that he had been eating plastic for the
better part of five years. Medical examiners declared that he had
died from starvation and dehydration because the inedible materials
had caused him to feel as though he was constantly full. Furthermore,
tumors had developed along his stomach line as a result of ingesting
plastics for so many years, so he more than likely would have also
died from cancer that had unknowingly plagued his system or the many
venereal diseases he had acquired from eating blood-soaked bandages
from track-marked addicts.
As Zack finishes the article, he shudders as he wonders what might
have been causing Kevin's compulsion. A psychiatrist theorized he
may have suffered from a condition called pica, which causes a person
to hunger for inedible objects like hair and finger nails. However,
as Kevin confessed his inner-most thoughts prior to his death, it
seems as though someone may have penetrated his mind. Of course, as
he works through his thoughts, he knows that the concept of ESP is
fictional, but he wonders if, truly, these walls contain more than
just medical equipment, books, and files. He wonders if, somehow, the
woes of the insane are trapped within this facility. Perhaps,
someday, he may become crazy as a result of this job. He
consults with Rudy, and, to the wiper's dismay, Zack informs him
that he's quitting after tonight. He decides he'll try his luck
once more in the restaurant business. At least, then, the employees
will grow fatter simply from fries and burgers rather than the waste
of the ill. As Zack exits the sluggish metal door for the last time,
Rudy clenches his jaw as he realizes he'll have to repair his rut
once again.
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