Just seconds before the seals were broken and the door was pushed open, Levi braced himself, gripping his hand with his other hand and closing his eyes tight. Just seconds before the light fractured the dimness inside of his quiet hovel, he pulled at the strap that had shifted from his shoulder to his neck. Just seconds before the space he had known for what seemed like an eternity - but what was really only a handful of months - changed and introduced an outside air clear of stuffiness and smells from human waste, Levi contemplated changing his mind, altering the outcome that waited... just seconds away. Forget the months leading up to this moment; forget the weeks counted-down upon the "Wainwright's Hardware and Appliances" Calendar; and, forget the days spent preparing, conditioning, and acclimating for such a moment.
Just an hour ago, Levi hunched inside the small, rotting buried shipping container, and he stretched a large, wool Army blanket over the plastic card table. Upon the blanket he placed a large Tupperware bowl full of clean drinking water, three shingles of salted and dried fish, and eight steel cans containing either "Fresno" pears or some generic brand tomato paste. To the pile he also added a good-sized ream of old newspaper. He folded the corner of the blanket towards the center and wrapped the bundle in clear packaging tape. With strips of material, he fashioned backpack-like straps and affixed them to the bundle. With his pack next to him, Levi sat down upon an upside-down metal bucket, and he reviewed the small, homemade shelves upon the walls of the container. Empty - all of them. He rubbed his hands together and interlocked his fingers as if he were praying to an outside ghost of a god for a deliverance. He turned around on his bottom and faced the container's sealed, metal doors. He cursed the outside, and he cursed the uneasiness of the unknown.
He lifted two small keys that were hanging from a length of wire on inside of the container doors. With his forehead resting on the inside surface of the container's cold doors, he cursed quietly but fiercely.
Levi bent and retrieved his improvised pack, and he slid the straps over his shoulders. One of the straps broke, causing the pack to shift and the remaining strap to dig into the side of his neck. Levi considered the broken strap a bad sign, a curse. Driven only by the sheer human need to satisfy the requirements of hunger, Levi unlocked both of the padlocks secured to the homemade hasps welded on the inside of the container doors. He dropped them to the floor, and braced his shoulder against one of the doors. With a thrust, the right door burst open, and the yellow light of the midday sun shot in like lightening. Levi reached into his coat pocket and handled a small, .38 caliber revolver. He brought it out into the light. Doing so, he took note of his hands and arms in the new brightness. He was filthy, unbathed, and a distant representation of the person he recalled of himself.
The container door opened with a loud and what seemed like an endless creak. Cold soil fell from above the doorjamb, and tall, dead grass and plant debris brushed against the opening door. Levi Stepped back into the container and observed the outside for a few moments. With no signs of hostility, Levi stepped into the cold day air. Pausing just a few steps away from the container, he pinched his eye shut when a cold wind struck his face. He looked about. All the large trees had fallen or were broken in half; all the thick canopies rested at the base of the trees; all that was green was now gray and bleak; and, all that was living was now dead or dying. The cold wind stirred a plume of dust from the yards and yards of soil that was poured and packed upon the top and sides of the shipping container.
Levi set his pack down beside his boot and walked around to the flank of the buried container, his revolver carried at the ready. He crawled up the embankment of soil at the container's side and sat down atop the sheltered container. "Positioning this in the woods was clearly a good'goddamn choice," he thought to himself. He shot a glance through the broken trees and hanging trunk sections to the front half of the parcel, to where his house was. He could make out only a section of the rooftop nested atop a pile of broken lumber and siding. The base of the chimney stood out from the pile like a surrender flag. Levi slid down the side of the dirt pile and secured his pack, lifting it to one shoulder. He walked a few paces to his front and urinated on an uprooted section of brush. He pulled a thick, woolen hat from his pocket and pulled it down over his head and ears, and he set off in the direction of the roadway.
To be Continued...
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