The dreaded Silo 3


Here in the middle of nowhere was a concrete sewer that rose up from the ground
about two feet. The manhole cover could be found roughly twelve feet away and
had been propped up against a nearby tree. As crazy as this may seem, it looked
like someone had at one time tried to roll it home! "That bugs me out," said Peter!

He was referring to the way the tree had grown over the sewer cap,
making it seem like the tree's belly was melting over it!

"I guarantee you that in twenty years from now, that cap is going to be completely gone!"
The bark should stop when it hits the ground, I said in the form of a question. Not really
sure if it's supposed to stop or begin moving right along like tree roots that ooze over
sidewalks or flow out of ever tight spaces! "I think it has to." Can you imagine if it grew
an inch per second? "Now that would be really bad! Tomorrow you'd wake up encased
in darkness; it covered the house."



Oh man, you'd be great in a horror movie!
"Yeah," he says laughing, "I'd probably be the first one to die."

Time as terrible as it may be, I said in reverie,
can sure show us some pretty amazing things.
"Ain't that the truth," said peter lost in thought too.

Peter hesitated as always, looking down into the silent cavern and not saying a single word.
I waited to see if he would take the initiative by climbing into the hole, but of course he didn't
and so I was first again. I climbed into the chamber and made my descent down a flaky rusted
ladder that had, in fact, become part of the concrete structure itself. The assembly of rusting
molded steel, streamlining down into a vast meridian of black nothingness was quite intimidating
to say the least! On the one hand, they were a massive one inch thick. On the other, they were
so uncomfortably small that I felt like a giant climbing a frail beanstalk! As I descended down into
the open conduit, I could not help but feel that one of those ladder rungs would come free from
its concrete casing sending me hurling to my death! Even though I knew it was impossible.



                                                     Or was it?

As the outside light began to disappear, I thought about reaching for the flashlight. . .
On second thought, I better wait until I reach the ground. The last thing I need today is to end
up with a severe compound fracture. As I continued to make my way down the ladder into a
foreboding darkness where it felt like I was undoubtedly going to be ripped to shreds by
something beyond description, my heart literally felt like it was beating out of my chest!

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Once my shoes touched down upon solid ground, I carefully released my grip which now
bore grid imprints on both surfaces of each palm. I was certain the orange rust had stained
my hands like henna. The last time I came home from this place I cleaned my hands repeatedly,
but it stayed with me like a liquid tan. I had to be roughly forty feet down and totally submerged
in desolate darkness for the outside light was cut off at about the halfway mark. Quickly, and
without reservation I grappled for the flashlight but found it was not there. Dear God in Heaven,
I said aloud as the monster came closer!

Like my father would say to me on the job when I wasn't doing something properly,
"if you work like an asshole, you get the results of an asshole." As I came to the realization
that I had only moments to live, I became filled with a panic so intense I could no longer
breathe right. I knew that if I attempted to climb out of there in haste, whatever was standing
behind me would react instantly, but if I could manage to remain perfectly still then it might
just be the darkness. As something brushed against my foot, I let out an ear piercing scream!

"You all right in there," yelled Peter down the hole?
No, I am not all right! I need the flashlight! I'm not alone down here!!!

Ever since I read that short story by August Derlith entitled, The Lonesome Place,
I seemed to have acquired an unnatural fear of the dark and dark places. Maybe
because I was only five years old when I read it. Or maybe being that young, the
mind is so impressionable it made the story come alive and is now attacking me!



Pete stuck his head in the echo chamber and asked wryly, "would you like to catch
the flashlight?" No way man, I replied, It'll hit me in the fucking face! A short burst
of laughter could be heard echoing down from the top of the concrete cylinder.
"I'm only kidding," said Peter in a devilish tone as he switched the flashlight from his
right front pocket to his back pocket, before proceeding down the length of the
ominous silo. Around ten feet or so in, Peter once again begins to exhibit signs of panic.

"Are you sure this is safe?" It's fine, you did it twelve times already!
"I know, I just can't shake the feeling that my life is now in imminent danger."
You're gonna be in imminent danger of not smoking anymore reefer today
if you don't get your ass down here! "I'm coming, relax! Aaaah, Goddamn it!!!"
What's the matter? I asked, hoping it was not going to delay him too long.
"The matter is I just got a piece of shrapnel in my friggin' hand, that's what's the matter!
This is the last time I'm doing this stupid shit!"

I wish I had taken the lighter on my dresser, just to see if there was anything here.
If so, I probably would have had a heart attack and immediately died.



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Carefully, he moved down a few more bars when I figured I'd have some fun. Be careful
of that middle step, it's very loose! Aaaaah, he screamed!!! After my laughter subsided,
I said that's for the flashlight remark. With wryness and perspicacity, he spoke in the
voice of Moe Howard. "Remind me to hit you in the head with it when I get down from
this thing!" Peter's struggle ended as soon as his left foot came in contact with dry land.

"I think my hand is bleeding." What did you expect would happen? You were holding
onto that ladder like you were dangling off the Triborough bridge for Christ's sake!
"I can't help it. I'm afraid of falling, what can I say?"
He then proceeded to wipe the sweat from his brow with a clean white handkerchief
that he always kept stuffed in his right front pocket. Here, he said handing me a tightly
wrapped Jolly Rancher candy. That was one of Peter's many trademarks, to carry them.

From here we would continue our journey through this lengthy hidden tunnel that spanned
the wooded subterranean underground. Isn't it cool, how our voice just carries on and on?
Pete had that disillusioned face which told me he couldn't stay down here long. Something
about tight quarters and confined spaces that irked him. A form of claustrophobia perhaps?
Whatever it was, he would not say. For him the tunnel was just an easy way of going from
one place to another. For me, it was a cool place to escape from the parching heat. To dwell
in peaceful solitude apart from the outside world. Without the tunnel, you could not go any
further and walking through all those thorns could prove to be a very painful form of suicide.
A dry water mark showed us where the rain had once reached it highest point in the old aqueduct.
It's funny how there's no smell down here, said Peter with moxie.

I stopped and handed him the flashlight while speaking in the voice of Curly Howard.
Here ya go Moe! "Why are you giving me the flashlight?" You said when you was comin'
down da ladder dat ya wan'ned the flashlight, an you was gonna hit me on the head wit it!



"Yeah well with my luck it'll break, and we'll be trapped down here." Peter handed the
flashlight back to me, and I noticed he had a very nervous face. You look exacerbated,
I said mockingly. "I'll be fine," he said in an aggravated tone. We paused in the middle
of this immense tunnel where I proceeded to sit down comfortably and cross my legs
like an old Indian Chief. "We're not smoking down here I hope." Well, that was more
or less the intention. "Oh God," he muttered in disapproval, while trying to calm
the restlessness that was building up inside of him.



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Slowly, I began to stand up. As I shined the flashlight under my chin, I spoke to my friend
as would a spectre in an old English horror movie, while attempting to sound like Bobby Pickett.

It's deafeningly quiet down here, Boris. . .
Why don't you strike up some noise, while I bring Ethel to her feet?

"Enough with the Goddamn improvs," he said in a disquieting, almost beleaguered tone.
Calm down man! "I refuse to calm down. It feels like we're walking around in an underground
mausoleum down here. Can we just advance onward please?" You make it sound like we're
in the Spanish American war, I said laughing! "Of all the battles ever fought, what would
possess you to pick that obscure war? Jesus Christ Almighty."

I could see he was now sweating profusely and exhibiting signs of intense fatigue. His eyes
were shifty and his body movements were becoming erratic. Clearly, he seemed to be overly
anxious and was becoming more and more worried by the minute. Pete, what is the problem
man? "The problem is that the sun is outside, and we're in here. Why do you want to get high
in here for? It makes no sense at all." I am not saying that we have to get high in here, I'm just
saying (He immediately cuts in) "Naw man, I didn't say we had to get high in here! I mean, I didn't
say that you said that we..." He stopped again and calmly tried to remove the handkerchief from
his right front pocket, while bringing his lips together like he had just taken a huge bite of an unripe
persimmon! He cleaned his face like he was using a washcloth over the bathroom sink. "Can we
go now, before I have a nervous breakdown?" Yes commander, we are advancing onward.



From here we continued our journey down yonder while following a small beacon of light
that came forth from a very cheap flashlight. At the end of this long concrete tube we stood,
looking up. The ladder on this side was only half the height of the first one and Peter made his
escape with no signs of difficulty. There was no fear of darkness on this side whatsoever,
for the sunlight filtered 'round the opening and covered me in it gentle rays.



What a lovely day, I thought as I cupped my hands together like a school megaphone
from the roaring twenties and bellowed into the great tube at the top of my lungs!!!
How is the weather out there old chum? My voice carried its echoes down the long
stretch of artery, on and on into the realm of the abandoned. "You would never know
how beautiful it is up here, if you were hanging out midway in that tunnel," shouted
Pete into the wind and away from the silo's opening, sounding overly sanguine.

"Hurry up man," he yelled down from above!
I then scurried up the steel ladder before taking one giant step for mankind.

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Reviews for chapter 19

Antonio Rivera - Fascinating. I am impressed with how you deliver each line!

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PG 91) Ta Prohm (Jungle Temple) - Cambodia

PG 91) Access shaft in the east arm of the Belt Line Sewer, Toronto

PG 92) Bookland by Christos Karapanos

PG 92) Mind tricks by Christos Karapanos

PG 93) The Three Stooges - Abdul's cactus remedy

PG 93) The Falls Street Tunnel (FST) Niagara Falls

PG 94) Crossroads by Philip Straub

PG 94) Access shaft in the west arm of the Belt Line Sewer, Toronto