Pool_1

"My uncle Charley is a barber who comes here to give patients hair cuts. He knows somebody. Kind of called on his relationship with a neurosurgeon, cuts his hair, to get me this job." Marcus explained. "Must have messed up that man's head but good, to do this to you!" Jake laughed sardonically, then over Marcus's head to an invisible audience, "Keep your eyes out for a neurosurgeon with bleeding head wounds." "Oh, common. What do I do?" "See this ledge? Just sit on it. There is nothing to do here. Nothing at all, until tonight. Then they need all of us. There are three others. No sense telling you about it now, it's easy enough. You'll see." "Whoa. Wait a minute. Why keep four - do I make five? - five people around all day long for a job done only at night?" Marcus was truly curious. Because they can't get anybody to do that job for any amount of money per hour. It takes a full time job with all the benefits to get that two hours work done. It requires one guy to point and inspect and three, well, you make four, retards to crawl through shit." Marcus now knew that Jake was kidding. Scare the new guy. But then he met the others and wasn't so sure, anymore. The retard part was accurate though. Benny was, for all intents, catatonic. You might not even notice him standing in an empty room. Motionless. Breathing? Must be. Both hands, held in fists poised in front of his hips, seemed to need ski poles. It wasn't clear what was in his eyes, Marcus couldn't make himself look. It sure as hell wasn't infinite infinities, maybe a nowhere or two. "Does he have a switch?" Marcus asked Jake. "He's my best worker," was the horrifying response.