C. Schmidt
HOCK CITY
A Story
To the Creator of the universe –
Thank you for the opportunity.
Get rid of them all. Take them as far away as you can, without causing suspicion to those in the city.
Entry Point
The thickness of the air cut through the vegetation throughout the hills. Heatwaves distorted the view of tumbleweed on the terrain from afar. A rattle snake slithered in the distance, while Jackrabbits nibbled on shrubbery, with a close eye on the predators near. Scorpions moved quickly along foliated rock.
Vultures circled and landed on light posts. They pecked at one another at times, clashing in regard to whom had dibs on what laid below. Others waited patiently, gawking at random intervals.
A middle-aged man lied in between weathered trees and cacti. The cacti stood watch between the sun and the valleys. The wind blew through his hospital gown, while dust was on his face, seemingly embedded in his five o’clock shadow.
A young kid in oversized slacks and suspenders noticed the man, and approached with caution; after a brief once-over he kneeled beside him. He poked the body of the man with a stick but received no response. The boy removed his fedora, and put his ear to the man’s chest; the man was breathing at a steady, slow pace – but this was no place for a nap. He shook him, since the man was alive.
“Hey mister, you okay? Mister!” He shoved him with force.
After another shove, the disoriented man let out a hard, loud cough – causing the kid to jump to his feet. The man squinted his eyes as he opened them slowly. The dust debris from the environment created a sticky residue around his eyelids. His vision was blurred momentarily; blinded by long, bright rays that stretched from every corner of his sight. He was soaked in sweat; vomit covered the pebbled ground next to him. His hospital gown was soiled.
He laid motionless; the only movement was in his mind. Thoughts that circled like the vultures above. He bent one leg and held his hand over his eyes to block the brightness. The wind blew sporadically, but not enough to cool him. The salt from his perspiration irritated his eyes, as he strained to see the small person next to him. At first he only saw the silhouette of the kid.
“Mister, are you okay? Need help? Man, you don’t look good. Why you out here like this? You better get up before you get a heat stroke! Them birds up there gon’ get you.”
The kid had a quick tongue, as if his mind was several steps ahead of his words. A race the two ran often.
He pulled on the man’s hand to help him rise to a seated position. Once on his backside, he looked around and studied his surroundings. His face and hair was dirty, while his lips were chapped. His back ailed from laying on the hard unleveled ground for some time. His head pounded like he had been thrown against a brick wall.
His anxiety grew as his mind danced around various thoughts. He had unconsciously been in this spot for quite a while. To the vultures, he was near death and a new option on the menu.
How he managed to survive in this remote location, and in this condition, both of which left him dumbfounded.
“Do you have water?” he asked. He cringed after the question, as his pain worsened. He spat sand fragments from his mouth, and then grabbed his side, near his lower abdomen. His muscles cramped due to his dehydration. They felt stiff like an old, dry sponge.
“A little. Clean water is hard to come by in these parts.” The boy pulled out a flask, unscrewing the top. The dehydrated man grabbed the flask in haste before it was offered to him. Water splashed from the nozzle during the exchange, frustrating the man. He sucked his teeth as he realized that every drop was priceless. He took one last big gulp, while cherishing the taste.
“Where am I? Who are you?”
The young boy, with one hand in his pocket, kicked rocks and then pointed towards a group of buildings, far in the distance, “You near Hock City sir. Pineville, actually. This area is Pineville. Name’s Jesse. What’s ya’ name?”
The man’s eyes widened. How did I get here? He pondered. He look at the hospital gown he wore; then, he looked at the area around him, perturbed. He stood to his feet, dusted off his arms and legs, and tied the gown tight around his body to cover his buttocks. He started to walk toward buildings he could see. They were faint in the horizon.
He looked around as he walked, silently searching for clues as to how he got where he was. The land was like an optical illusion. He looked at the light poles near, including the hills and the roads. Every time he felt like he was gaining ground, he was misled. His parched state and skewed imagination began to get the best of him.
His instincts led, and the kid followed.
Pineville
Why am I in this gown?
The sun started to retreat and the air cooled after walking for a while. The man came to what appeared to be a residential area. Intersections, stop signs, fences; inoperable stoplights. Pineville looked as if it stretched several miles in every direction, as far as his eyes could see.
He stood and observed his surroundings. Pineville was not a pretty place from what it seemed. The air around the area smelled chaotic. The remnants of bad hygiene, smoke, sex and overall mayhem swarmed the area. It was a cesspool.
The streets and remnants of the neighborhoods were dilapidated. Signs were smeared with bullet holes with the remains of what looked like dried blood. Mounds of sand covered the bones of decayed homes. Shreds of torn advertisements hung on light poles.
The man vomited at his first encounter of excrement, which smothered part of cracked sidewalks and chipped asphalt. He didn’t have much vomit to purge due to his dehydration. Nonetheless, the smell of yesterday’s waste turned his stomach. It was as if people defecated and threw waste wherever (and whenever).
He looked upon the landscape with unpleasant awe and uncertainty.
“What’s your name sir?” Jesse asked again. He walked closely and stared at the man, eager to get an answer. He admired his watch as it glistened from the sunlight with each swing of his arm.
“Langston.”
“Nice to make your acquaintance Mr. Langston. That’s a nice timepiece you got there.”
“Thanks.” Langston looked at the watch, puzzled. It was the only thing he wore, outside of the hospital gown. He smiled with his eyes because the watch was a gift. It was something that he possessed since he was a child.
“Where am I? What is this place?” Langston asked.
“Right now, you in Pineville or the ‘Pines,’ as we call it. That way takes you to Hock City. It’s the best place ever, well for me anyways. I ain’t never been nowhere else. I come out here to find anything worth taking back. For lines and all.”
“The Pines,” Langston repeated to gauge his recollection.
“Yeah, Pineville.”
Jesse pointed to the entrance sign for the area. Graffiti and other markings covered most of what was left. The Pines. Find your light. Tall, lean people with rods were drawn on a portion of the wall.
“You have never been beyond this city?”
“No sir.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t know. There really ain’t no other place to go. Where you from, mister?”
Langston’s thoughts raced again. It was a challenge for him to narrow them down. Various visuals continued to flash in his mind. He couldn’t remember much, such as how he got to this place. The desert, the gown.
Langston’s eyes wandered again. He didn’t recognize anyone.
They continued to walk.