*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1590063-Harry-and-his-Dead-Body
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Dark · #1590063
A naive bank teller discovers a dead body in his apartment and burys it in the desert.
Harry and his Dead Body

By Lee Marks

         I guess you could say that I acted in a weird way.  The truth is that I had never dealt with a dead body before in my life.  I mean I had seen movies and stuff.  I remember this on in particular where this one dude uses a gun and blows some holes in another dude.  He then wraps up the guy in a bunch a trash bags and goes out to the backyard and digs a hole. He throws the body in, covers it up and goes back inside to have a drink and watch Jeopardy.  But that was just the movies. Fake prop gun, fake corn syrup blood, a fake foam rubber cadaver and squibs. Squibs are miniature explosive devices that simulate bullet explosions. They use them in action scenes in movies.  In movies, things are made up. They don’t tell you how to deal with real dead bodies.  I found out the truth the hard way.

My name is Harry Sloane, I’m 25 years old, and last week I disposed of a dead body in the middle of the desert.  This is my story.

At 7:30 am on Thursday, July 27th, 1989 I woke up. After taking a shower, I put on my glasses over my blue eyes and combed my thick brown hair.  I put on a cream colored button down shirt, a black suit, and a red polka dot tie.  I picked up my new $1,000 watch and proudly put it on my wrist.  I went downstairs and fixed an english muffin and a cup of coffee. In USA Today I read about a DC-10 that crashed in Iowa, killing 112 and 184 surviving. Under that was an article about some guy at Cornell University who had released a computer virus and was in court. While chewing on my english muffin, I became somewhat engrossed about a new portable video game system that an overseas company was about to unveil in North America. I drained the last of my coffee, grabbed my briefcase and headed out of my apartment.  I walked down the two flights of stairs and headed to my car.  I drive a 1976 Black 442 Oldsmobile, fully restored.  I bent down to look in my rearview mirror and looked at my face.  I straightened my tie and stepped inside the driver’s side.  I started the car and drove out of the parking lot and started down the highway.

I live in a small suburb out of Phoenix, Arizona.  Being that it was the middle of summer and it was 110 degrees outside, and that the interior of the car is all-black leather, I thought it was best to keep the windows up and the A/C on high. I turned on the radio and listened for a few moments about people on talk radio chatting about the new TV pilot Seinfeld that had been on a few days ago. I changed the station and listened to Robert Palmer singing “Addicted to Love”.

At 8:15 am, I pulled into the bank, Sun View Credit Union, where I work as a bank teller. I greeted the security guard and made my way quickly to my station. I nodded to my boss, Janice, and she nodded back. The rest of the day was somewhat of a blur to me. I assisted people with savings, I cashed checks, and I did everything that I did every day.  This is my life, and it’s the same thing every day.  Little did I know that my whole life was about to change.

When I got home at 5:30 pm, there was a sign on my front door from my landlord.  It read:

Hey Harry, it’s me. A neighbor has been complaining about a weird smell coming from your room.  When you get home, come see soon.
Bill

I looked at it for a second and took it off. I opened up my door, looked down, and froze. In the middle of the room, a nude body was sprawled out on the floor. The neck had been strangled, and the skin had begun to turn pale green from asphyxiation.  I started to scream and held my hand up to my mouth. I poked my head out my door and seeing no one was there, I closed the door.  I tore my jacket and tie off and started pacing the floor quickly. “What the hell am I going to do? Where did this body come from?” I thought. Then it hit me.  “I’ll call the police!” I said out loud.  I went to the bedroom and picked up the phone.  Then I slammed it down. “Are you crazy?” I said. “What am I going to say to the cops? ‘Hi officer, I came home and there’s a dead body in my apartment?’ they would arrest me!”  No, I would have to take care of this myself.

I tired to think of what I had seen in the movies.  They usually would dispose of the body secretly and quietly.  I had none of that going for me.  I lived on the second floor, I had eight neighbors, and it was still daylight.  In the end I figured I would wait until dark.  I went to talk to my landlord and he asked me about the smell.  I lied through my teeth and told him some cleaning products had spilled.  Apparently he fell for it because he asked me to have dinner and watch Arsenio Hall on TV. At 8:30 pm, I told him I should get going and said goodnight.  I walked out the door and quickly ran back to my apartment.  Once back in the safety of my domain, I ran thoughts through my head on how to deal with this slight pickle I was in that was a dead body. 

I figured that since I was in the desert I could easily find a place to bury it.  I would need some lime and shovel, so I would have to go to a hardware store.  Good thing a hardware store was near where I lived.  Next came my clothes and cleaning the body.  Like I said before, I had no idea what to do with a body.  I figured there would be fibers and junk on the body so I took my mini-Dirt Devil vacuum and sat down for ten minutes vacuuming the body.  At one point I felt I felt I was going to vomit. I lunged into the bathroom and let one out. A moment later, I started to walk back out then turned back into the bathroom.  More vomit came out. A few minutes later, I wobbled out of the bathroom.  “Okay, no more fooling around.” I thought to myself.  “Let’s take care of this TONIGHT.” I put away the vacuum and looked around my bathroom sink for a surgical mask.  I found one and put on some coveralls I had from Halloween. I put on a hat and some aviator sunglasses.  I looked like a serial killer but it didn’t matter.  It was all I could find.

Remembering what I had seen in that movie, I tore apart some trash bags, stuffed the body in, and tied it closed with rope.  Trying to hold open the door and drag the body through turned out to be harder than I thought.  Eventually I succeeded and I sat the bag up against the railing. I turned my back and closed the door. The body had slid down to the concrete floor and made a large thud.  I whipped back around and slapped my forehead. “Damn!” I whispered.  I hoisted the on my shoulder and dragged the body to the steps.  At the top of the steps, I put the body down for a second and tried to get my balance. I tried to pick up the bag, but it slipped from my fingers.  It flew out of my reach and tumbled down the stairs like a rag doll and banged the railing.  I cried out “SHIT” and the apartment light next to me turned on.  I gasped as the doorknob started to turn and flew down the stairs.  I grabbed the body and dragged it out of sight.  The man looked around, and seeing no one there he shook his head and walked back in.  Inside I heard, “It’s just those damn kids, Martha!” As soon as the light turned off, I breathed a sigh of relief and picked up the body.  Slowly, I hoisted the body onto my back and carefully walked down the last flight of stairs.

Staying low to the street, I slowly but surely maneuvered myself and the body over to my car.  I set the body down on the street and opened up the trunk door.  It hit me on my forehead and I cursed, grabbing my head.  I rubbed it and bent down to get the body. I lugged it into the trunk and started to close the door. I saw that the arm was hanging out.  Rigor Mortis was starting to set in and the arm was bruised and green.  It smelled bad, too.  Holding my nose, I put the arm back in the bag.  I fell out again.  Irritated, I shoved the arm back in.  I looked down at the cheap Casio I had put on after removing the expensive Omega. It read: 10:30 pm.  I walked around to get in the car. I opened the door and it hit my knee. I winced and angrily got in my car.  It took four tries to start the car.  After the fourth try, I put it into reverse and started to pull out.  I suddenly braked, thinking I forgot something.  The shovel and lime.  Upset, I went back upstairs, got the stuff, and came back down.  I started the car again and drove into the darkness.

The time was 10:59 pm.  I looked out the window and saw the sign:

You are now leaving Phoenix! Please come back!

The desert was dark and quiet, save for the wind going through the cacti and the occasional car passing by.  I turned on the radio for distraction. On the talk radio, they were talking about the penalties for 1st degree murder.  I quickly changed the radio to the local station.  Rockwell was singing about somebody watching him.  I switched off the radio.  It was crazy! I figured it must have been all in my imagination.  I didn’t even kill anybody!  I had just happen to look in my review mirror and froze, my eyes widening.  A red and a blue light were flashing down the road. The lights belonged to a careening police car.  My heart started beating quickly. My forehead started to perspire.  I hiccupped and slowed down, pulling over to the side.  The cop car zoomed by and I was confused for a minute.  Then I looked ahead and saw another car pull over and the cop car stopped behind it.  I started up the car and continued on my way towards the sight.

It was 11:20 when I finally found a suitable spot.  A dirt road led to a small, old cabin.  I guess I was about 25 miles out of Phoenix.  I slowed down and turned onto the dirt road.  I drove to the back of the cabin and stopped.  I stumble out onto the desert floor and scrambled back up, dusting myself off.  I walked to the back of the car, opened the trunk and gagged.  The smell was ridiculously horrible.  I threw my head down and vomited.  I regained my composure and went to the front seat to get my mask and the shovel.  I reached over on the passenger seat and got the bag of lime.  The bag was heavier than I remembered and I tumble over backwards, onto the body.  I screamed out loud and quickly got back up.  I squirmed and just felt gross. I figured I had to take a few minutes to myself and sat down on the ground. I looked over at the bag and regaled to myself the evening’s events.  This was the craziest thing that had ever happened to me.  I had only seen movies.  You tell yourself, oh if that happened to me I would surely be able to handle myself.  But, the thing is, until you’re in a situation like that, you don’t really know what to do.  I like most people had been naive.  The place I was at right now had brought a strong change in my lifestyle.  I would never be the same again.

I don’t know how long I must have been on the ground, when I involuntarily looked at my watch.  It was 12:20 am.  I realized that I had to be back at work in the morning, so I got to work.  I figured I would need a flashlight and I hadn’t brought one with me.  For some weird reason I went into the cabin to look for a flashlight and it was even weirder that I found one.  My jaw actually dropped open when it worked.  I set to work on the hole.

First thing I did was retie the body back into the bag.  After that I started digging the hole.  I’d say it took me about 30 minutes to dig the complete hole.  I wiped my perspiring forehead and sat down at the edge. A few moments later I picked myself up and dragged over the body. I slowly lowered the body into the hole and I had almost fallen in but was able to balance myself. After I dropped it the rest of the way, I climbed out and got the bag of lime and opened it.  Because I was young, clueless, and had never buried a body before, I devised a way of packing on the dirt and lime.  First I covered the body with a layer of lime followed by a layer of dirt.  When I reached the top, I padded down the dirt with the shovel and brushed away any traces of lime.  After I was done, I took the lime, the shovel, and my clothes and stashed them in the cabin.  I remembered to go my keys so I would not be stuck out here all night. The time was 1:53 am.  I got in the car and started it.  I stopped before I turned onto the highway, and looked back.  “I’m doing the right thing. No one will ever find that body.” I pulled onto the highway and started home.  My car was the only one on the highway.

I arrived back at my apartment at 2:40 am. I slumped back up to my room, my eyes half closed from being tired.  I opened the door, looked around and sighed, painfully.  Now was the time to clean up the place.

I had fallen asleep on my bed when the alarm came on at 7:30 am. Friday, July 28th, 1989.  I was still wearing the dirt covered clothes from last night and my bed covers were smudged brown.  I immediately took a shower and changed into an olive green suit, a black button down shirt, and no tie.  Given the “adventure” I had last night, I really didn’t give a damn about how I looked.  After a quick cup of coffee and a pop tart, I rushed out the door and down the steps and slipped into my car.  I didn’t bother turning on the A/C, I just rolled down the window.  At 8:15 am, I strolled into the bank. Both the security guard and Janice looked at me like I had just walked in with no pants.  I pasted on a fake smile and waved to both of them. I slumped down into my seat and stared into space.

I was in a strange hallway and was walking down it, looking at each door.  Suddenly I heard a voice behind me. “Why? WHY?” I turned around and there was a woman a few yards behind me, floating two feet above the ground.  Her long flowing hair was bright white and her mouth was wide open.  Her eyes were bloodshot.  It took me a moment to figure out who she was.  I screamed in terror and started running away.  There was nothing but endless hallway and doors.  Behind me I heard, “WHY? Why did you leave me out there to DIE?”  Then all of a sudden, I heard a faint voice coming from a distance. It got louder and louder.  Eventually I screamed and my eyes shot open.

I was sitting at my teller station in the Sun View Credit Union.  I looked over at the worker beside me and she smiled, and gestured me to look front. I heard the voice again. “Sir”?  It was coming from an old woman, standing in front of the counter, waving a check in her hand.  I closed my eyes and breathed slowly. “Sir? Are you alright?” I smiled at her and said, “Yes Ma’am.  How may I help you?”  Looking at me suspiciously, then forgetting it, she said, “I’d like to deposit this check into my savings account.”  I calmly took the check from her, glanced at it, and said “I’ll need a form of ID and your account number, please.”


* * *

I can’t really say what that day dream was about.  I guess it was just a warning.  I didn’t have it again.  No one ever did find out about the body, and they probably never will.  Anyway, just in case you’re wondering, I’m dictating this into a tape recorder.  I hope that some day I’ll be able to tell it to someone else.  When I die, my friends and family will have known of my secret deed.  Until then, I’ll keep my mouth shut.

I guess the moral of this story is don’t believe you see everything in the movies.  I did, and look where it got me. There is a big difference between movies and real life.





Lee Marks
08/10/09

         

© Copyright 2009 Lee Marks (leezy220 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1590063-Harry-and-his-Dead-Body