Tragedy on Site

If walls could talk, what a web they'd weave. My consciousness sparked when the first cemented block adhered to the concrete, like the beginning of new life in a mother's womb. At every new block added, my awareness and vision expanded. I watched the comings and goings of men and women I later learned were human. The details of my design and additions are perfect. My purpose? To house some of the most brilliant minds the world has ever seen. Although my frame is a facade, a deception to the world at large, deep in my bowels, new wonders and deadly destruction are destined.

Yet, my humble beginnings aren't as pristine as I've led you to believe. During my creation, I observed the interactions of the drone workers. The mystery behind their fortitude and drive revealed itself as time elapsed. Their discussions were insightful, and the banter enjoyable. And through these exchanges, my knowledge grew exponentially, though I still had much to learn. On the brink of my completion, I learned another lesson. When one of the workers I recognized and their companion stumbled through my corridors one night.

The frantic pulling of clothes, the uncoordinated pressing of mouths, and the unnamed vocalizations meant something. I was intrigued, and through my bewilderment and the need to understand, I observed and retained for the next time. And indeed, a next time came and then another and another. Too many times to count. As inconsequential as time was to me, I knew a significant amount of time had passed before an additional vehicle started arriving the last few times the couple was preoccupied. The truck would park in the shadow of the looming building at the end of the street, a silhouette behind the steering wheel. That night felt different from all other nights. And it wasn't long before I found out why.

"Josh, I don't think we should see each other anymore. I love my husband, and he's getting his act together, finally," she stated sheepishly.

As he adjusted his lower garment, he looked at the woman in disbelief, his eyes comically wide, followed by his face bleeding cherry red. "Are you serious, Carol? Right now? You're doing this now?"

"Look, Josh, maybe you could find someone, ya know?" She nervously smoothed her attire and took broad steps toward the exit. "I'm sorry about this. I really—"

"Oh, cut the shit. How do you figure; I'll let you walk back into your happy life while I'm left wallowing in mine?" Josh appraised Coral. His head tilted speculatively. "Why don't we see what Mike has to say about our little adventures, hmm?"

"You. wouldn't. dare!"

His lips curled into a cruel smile as he said, "Wouldn't I? We're in this together, baby, remember?"

Carol marched toward Josh, stabbed a finger at his face, and shouted, "I'm warning you. You won't like the consequences if you do."

I watched as she made her way to one of the vehicles parked in the darkened ally and then drove away. The truck remained where it was. Meanwhile, Josh paced and muttered to himself with the occasional bouts of misplaced rage. The slamming of the truck door drew my attention. A figure strode past a lamp post and revealed himself to be another of the workers, a behemoth of a man. He looked left and right before entering my domain.

As quiet as a mouse, the newcomer inspected every room he passed. I deduced he searched for Josh. He came across a workbench and picked up one of the tools with a sharp point. For this occasion, I couldn't glean its purpose. Nothing needed fixing. But then he found Josh. So absorbed was he that Josh didn't realize he was no longer alone. Josh jumped a mile high when he did. "Mike, man, you almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing here?"

"Funny, I could ask you the same thing. Josh."

Josh looked perplexed, and the confident attitude he had displayed with Carol dissipated in the presence of Mike's silent stare. Josh visibly swallowed and then smirked before he said, "I needed somewhere to chill. Blow off steam. My girl's been giving me grief. I'm sure you know what I mean. Am I right?" A strained laugh coughed up his throat when his attempt at humor fell flat.

"I'll give you another chance to get your answer straight."

"Look, man, I don't know what you're talking about," Josh said. "I'm here—"

"Screwing my wife," Mike finished for him. "There's no use denying it."

Josh looked like a deer caught in headlights. "I mean—" Josh rubbed his forehead like he was in pain. "O-ok, I admit it. We ran into each other at a club, and things got out of hand. B-but I promise you; it won't happen again."

An unholy light flashed in Mike's eyes, "You're right. It won't."

For such a heavy-set man, he moved swiftly and silently as a deer bounding through the forest. The sound of the tool puncturing Josh's abdomen resembled a popped balloon. Josh looked at Mike in disbelief as he clutched his shoulders for balance before landing in a heap at his feet. Throughout it all, Mike stood solid as a tree rooted deep into the earth; his face betrayed no emotion as humans tended to do. Mike had come prepared. He meticulously cleaned the area and tool, whereas; Josh found a messy end dumped in the business end of the cement mixer. When it was all said and done, Mike left, and the mixer went round and round.