The Gym

by B. P. Kasik

  “Thanks, man!”

  Jerry walked down the stairs and out the front door into the night.

  The Gym’s vivid glow filled his house, but from this spot a few blocks away, it looked like an arrow of light pointing up at the darkest cloud in the heavens.

  Nothing wrong with that.

  Chapter 20

  Werner was doing construction work on the Gym’s fourth floor. He’d never seen blueprints like the ones the Gym provided. The geometry was just totally out of whack.

  The construction crew was under strict orders to stay on the fourth floor for the entirely of their night shift. They were provided with a variety of foods, drinks, a breakroom, and bathroom access. The guy in charge told them that if they strayed down to the third floor, they would be automatically terminated.

  Werner was fine with that. They were professionals. They’d done remodeling and addition work for reclusive rich folks and security-conscious companies. His crew was used to weird demands and strict clauses in their contracts.

  So they sawed away at two-by-fours, positioned drywall, installed doors, and caulked joints. They’d been working for a couple weeks and Werner figured he’d be done by this point. But the Gym guy kept requesting changes and modifying the plans. Which was fine with him. They were paid by the hour. Werner never abused that system—his team worked fast—but when companies ask for extensive changes or modifications, he smiled and nodded and gobbled up the extra hours.

  The main hallway on the fourth floor dead-ended and then turned right and then got smaller and smaller. It looked like one of those funhouse illusions from a distance. And it didn’t seem to serve any practical purpose. It just shrunk and then terminated in a concave pyramid jabbing into the wall.

  Werner didn’t ask the Gym folks why they planned it that way and he didn’t care. Long as the direct deposits went through.

  Halfway through their shift that night, Werner was struggling with a wire that wasn’t stretching far enough to reach a switch. He got out another wire and was prepared to solder them when his chief floor guy, Ricardo, hissed at him. “Boss! On the floor! Civilian!”

  Werner stepped back and then poked his head out the door frame.

  What’s this guy doing here at 3 a.m.?

  The Gym rep who had been their main contact throughout the process was inspecting the walls. He ran a finger along the drywall and then licked the finger.

  Werner stepped back into the room. Was I supposed to see that?

  He waited for what seemed like an appropriate amount of them, then walked back out into the hallway, feigning surprise. “Well, hello! Didn’t expect to see you here this evening, sir!”

  The Gym rep nodded. “Please, call me Deane. And I just wanted to watch your progress. I like progress.”

  “Right, right. So do you have any questions…Deane?”

  “Is the back hallway done?” Before Werner could answer, the Gym rep stormed past him and down the hall and looked around the corner. “Awesome!” he shouted, and moved toward the dead end.

  Werner looked over at Ricardo, who was leaning his head around the doorframe with an eyebrow cocked. “The hell?” he silently mouthed.

  Werner shrugged and walked after the Gym rep. He turned the corner and saw him massaging the inner point where the walls all met at the hallway’s end. He was massaging the wall around the point, like he was finger-painting numbers and symbols. He was muttering incomprehensible things under his breath.

  “Uh, does this work for you? The dead end there?”

  The Gym rep held up a finger at Werner and continued muttering and rubbing the wall. He then got up and made eye contact. “You have done perfectly satisfactory work.” The rep brought a walkie-talkie up to his mouth and spoke into it, “Okay, bring it up.”

  Werner stared blankly. Neither of them said anything as they heard the sounds of footsteps coming up the glass stairs. After a moment, the people wearing “GYM” shirts came around the corner with thickly-packed duffel bags.

  Werner watched as they unzipped the bags and then saw what they were pulling out of them. He looked at the Gym rep, wide-eyed and panicked, and started walking backwards.

  The Gym rep smiled. “Get back to work. None of this is bothering you. You’ll forget it in a few minutes.”

  Werner nodded. He wanted to believe the guy. He turned and walked away and tried not to listen to the juicy sounds coming from the end of the hallway.

  He stripped the end of two wires, got out his soldering iron and smelted a connection between them, then covered the hot metal with electrical tape.

  By the time he got the switch connected, he was totally involved with his work and he couldn’t remember anything about what he’d seen in the bags. And he didn’t wonder why those things had been brought up to the end of a hallway.

  Chapter 21

  Jerry always wanted to try one of those funky spicy beef pies from the local convenience store. He’d been exercising so vigorously lately, he felt he’d earned it. He wanted to eat something horrible for a change.

  And it was even better than he’d imagined. The generic, factory-processed meat-product was perfectly spliced with the Texas Pete and wrapped in a delectably artificial bright yellow garlic crust cover.

  Who could ask for more?

  He got a Mountain Dew Pitch Black to wash it down. In for a penny, in for several pounds.

  He sipped his soda as he walked out the door and noticed that he hadn’t limped at all while he was getting his junk food treat.

  He smiled and felt like his life was really looking up as he screwed the top back on his soda and started walking toward his car and then he was pummeled by fists on both sides of his head, right above the ears.

  “Knockout game!” someone shouted, and then ran off down the street.

  Jerry was seeing stars, but he looked over and got a glimpse of his attacker. A scraggly-looking old guy in rags with a thick beard.

  And Jerry could swear the guy winked at him before turning and disappearing down an alley.

  Jerry wondered if that was one of those people driven to random violence that had been attacking people in the neighborhood. If so, he was glad he’d gotten away with just a couple punches to the head.

  Chapter 22

  The Gym felt odd for Jerry that afternoon.

  He tried to use the resistance training machines to do his standard arm workout. But unusual things kept grabbing his attention.

  There were dozens of people doing dead man’s floats in the lap pool around the workout area.

  There was a red puddle by the bench-press station.

  Several muscular clients tore through their shirts as they worked out, roaring incoherently.

  The desk workers started punching each other when they disagreed about who would clean the bathrooms.

  The railings had been removed on either side of the glass stairs leading up to the second floor.

  Jerry had seen stuff like this at the Gym before, but he’d let it go and felt certain it wasn’t a problem.

  But this time—it seemed wrong. More wrong than usual.

  Several minutes passed and Jerry worked out distractedly. He saw a slightly overweight woman get off a treadmill and head downstairs. A group of perfectly-toned women nodded at each other, then in unison, followed close behind the larger woman with sinister looks on their faces.

  What was that about?

  Jerry wiped his face clean with a towel as the personal trainer jumped in front of him.

  “You still haven’t made an appointment with me.”

  “Hey, personal space, man.”

  “Excuse me? Do you have a problem with me getting in your face?”

  “I do.”

  The personal trainer looked confused, took a step back. He checked his watch, stared at it for nearly a minute. Jerry just stood there, refusing to be intimidated. Then the trainer said, “Are you still bothered by me?”

  Jerry nodded. “You’re still a bit close.”


  The trainer scratched his cheek. “This shouldn’t bother you. I don’t...Are you trying to take my job?”

  Jerry remembered that was the first thing the trainer ever asked him. “Sorry, no. I like working out here, but I’m employed elsewhere.”

  The trainer nodded. “That’s good. Good for you.” He shook his head, then like a hastily-changed channel, his face resumed its glazed mad look. “You’re still scrawny and flabby! You need guidance!”

  “How can I be both scrawny and flabby?”

  “I can fix both of those things. You say the word, we’ll sculpt you into a muscle masterpiece!”

  “I’ll make sure to let you know if and when I’m interested.”

  The trainer put his hands on his hips. “Get serious about your health! Get back to your workout!”

  “I’m done for the day.”

  “Well, then…” The trainer grunted, then licked his lips. “You stay healthy!”

  “I will.”

  The trainer walked away with a puzzled expression on his face.

  Jerry watched him go. That trainer said so many strange things. And there was so much that felt wrong to him in there.

  Was it always like this?

  It felt strange to see the Gym in such a dark light since it had been a wonderful oasis of health and rehabilitation up to that point.

  Jerry took an uneventful shower and had no trouble opening his locker and then he started changing his clothes.

  And then he saw the cameras.

  Video camera hanging from the locker room ceiling in every corner.

  He frantically pulled his shirt on, yanked his gym bag out of the locker, and stormed out into the lobby.

  The desk worker stared coldly at him as he approached.

  “Why the hell are there cameras in the locker room?”

  The desk worker didn’t flinch. “Sir, there have been complaints about stolen items in the locker room. So the cameras are for security.”

  “You can’t put cameras in a private place like that! It’s an invasion of privacy!”

  “No one seems to mind.”

  “You can’t keep video footage of people changing their clothes!”

  “Why not?”

  “Do you understand the concepts of right and wrong?”

  “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t ask silly questions.”

  “Silly…Are you insane? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing, sir. Please calm down.”

  “I’m amazingly calm for someone who’s just been videotaped naked!”

  “It’s for security, sir.”

  “It’s private!”

  “Sir, the video files are erased every night. They’re only kept for review purposes in case any thefts are reported. I believe you reported a theft once.”

  “No...I didn’t. Some of my stuff was missing from my locker, but I didn’t report that.”

  The desk worker finally seemed to change his tone. “And that...bothers you?”

  “Yes, it damn well does! How did you know something of mine was stolen?”

  The desk worker looked around and waved for help from the employee at the coffee bar.

  Jerry looked over his shoulder at the approaching female employee. He turned back to the counter and asked, “Are there cameras in the women’s locker room, too?”

  The employee smiled. “Oh, yes! Several!”

  Jerry wanted to punch this kid.

  The other employee came up to his side. “Is there a problem, sir?”

  Jerry turned his rage in her direction. “You’re a woman. Are YOU okay with cameras in your locker room?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a security matter.”

  Jerry shook his head. “There’s no way you’re getting away with this!”

  Neither employee looked threatened. One of them said, “I can get our supervisor if you’d like to talk to him.”

  “Forget your supervisor, I’m reporting this to the police!”

  They continued to poker-face him. Jerry backed away to the door.

  The accumulated weight of everything he’d seen at the Gym so far was coming down on him. He’d seen so much sick, bizarre stuff there, and it had all somehow seemed normal. Up until that day.

  And in his interactions with the employees, the only thing that seemed to rattle them was that he wasn’t accepting things as normal. Had they been drugging him? Had he been hypnotized? What had happened? Or was he losing his mind? Was he hallucinating? The Gym couldn’t be doing all those crazy things he’d been seeing.

  He pushed open the glass door and was hit with a wave of hot air and smoke as a house across the street collapsed.

  Chapter 23

  Heavy construction equipment and workers in hard hats lined the street.

  Jerry saw his fellow residents out on the street, being held at bay by men in riot gear. He thought of that old joke, “Q: Why do riot police like to get to work early? A: To beat the crowd.”

  People were running into their houses and then running back out with laptops and arms full of valuables.

  Jerry’s leg spasmed and he started limping as he crossed the street and addressed one of the construction workers. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “Demolition order. Every house is coming down. Today.”

  Jerry looked at his neighbors’ tear-stained faces. “You can’t just…do something like that. You have to give notice.”

  The construction worker shrugged. “We got an expedited order. I’m just doing my job here. Your landlord should have told you about this.”

  Jerry thought about that. He’d never met his landlord, he just sent a check to a property management company every month.

  “But look at this!” Jerry pleaded. “Nobody was told. You’re destroying our houses with all our stuff still in there!”

  The construction worker started walking away. “Nothing I can do to help.”

  “But why did this order get...expedited?”

  “You got me. Above my pay grade, pal.” And the worker was gone.

  Jerry watched a wrecking ball hit his neighbor’s second floor bedroom. Debris flew up and out from the impact. After a few more hits and a nudge from a bulldozer, the house fell.

  He limped away, his leg suddenly hurting worse than ever, as they went to work on his house.

  Chapter 24

  Ben heard a knock at the door.

  He opened the door and saw Jerry, covered in dust and dirt and sweat.

  Jerry stared hollow-eyed at his friend.

  Ben waved him inside.

  Jerry told him what happened.

  Ben got him a soda and asked, “What are you gonna do?”

  Jerry took a sip, looked at the soda, and laughed. “This is my second soda today. And I haven’t had a soda in weeks.” There was a long silence.

  “Do you have any family in the area?”

  “Nope. All dead or strangers.”

  “Does your ex live in the area?”

  ”Yep.”

  “Did you...well, I was gonna ask if you called her, but what can she really do?”

  Jerry hung his head. “Not much. And yes, I called her. She said to call her back when I had a place the kids could stay on weekends.”

  “Cold.”

  “She’s gotten worse since she started working at the Gym. We were getting along really well for a while there.”

  “Weird. Seems like the Gym would be a fun place to work, right?”

  Jerry opened his mouth to respond, then realized Ben was still under the Gym’s spell. He still couldn’t see anything wrong there. And Jerry still didn’t know why he started seeing it clearly. So he took another sip of his carbonated sugar.

  “Can you call your landlord? File some kind of grievance.”

  “Didn’t have a landlord. Just a property management company. I don’t even know where it is. They sent me a bill every month and I sent them payment in an enclosed envelope.”

  “And those bills are in
your house?”

  “Somewhere in the debris of what used to be my house, yes.”

  “Do you remember the company’s name?”

  “No. Goffer? Gotty? Something like that.”

  “You could Google local property management companies.”

  “They had a P.O. Box in Delaware, I remember that. But I think they just incorporated there for tax purposes. I don’t know where they’re actually located.”

  “Jeez.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t even know what to say. You can stay here until you get a new place.”

  “Don’t you want to talk this over with your wife?”

  “She won’t mind. Trust me.”

  “No, YOU trust ME: you want Imani to remain your wife, you should talk things over with her.”

  Ben laughed. “Don’t worry about us. Just worry about yourself. You still have your phone?”

  “Yeah. Left the charger at home, though.”

  “Let’s go get you a new one.”

  Riding shotgun with Ben, Jerry looked at all the people walking down Main Street wearing Gym shirts.

  “It’s everywhere,” Jerry muttered.

  “It?”

  “The Gym, Ben. Doesn’t it bother you?”

  “We’ve talked about this. You’re worrying about nothing. They have some unconventional methods, but you can’t deny the results!”

  “Something’s different now. I’m not...I don’t get how you can accept what they’re doing anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ben, I just...nothing.”

  “Look, man. I’m sure you’re shell-shocked from losing your home, but there’s no reason to blame that on the Gym.”

  They rode in silence for a while. Jerry finally asked, “Hey, doesn't your wife work for City Council?”

  Ben’s mouth tightened. “Yeah.”

  “Can she do something about this? Can she get me a meeting with someone...who could do something about the Gym?”

  Ben tapped the steering wheel. “I don't know. Maybe. There's a City Council meeting later this week. Was supposed to be about redevelopment, so maybe—”