Outhouse Copyright, Norman DeArmond, 9/27/2007
The car pulled up to the intersection and turned the corner and stopped next to a small building at the
corner of the property. It was recessed slightlly from the street by landscape and sidewalk. Across some pretty
landscaping from it an attractive apartment complex formed an L around it. The buildings looked reddish in the night
lights. An African American man got out of the car and walked over to the well windowed out building and opened the
door, then went inside. After observing the bright red rectangular furniture, as if in someone's bedroom, he opened
the door, discovered a bathroom an went inside. He remembering the ferocious wreck they were just in. He marvelled
at the provision at point of need. An attractive woman who left the car with him had entered the anteroom and enjoyed
it's sparse hospitality a moment.
Just then through the door came an African American woman who tried the bathroom door, knocked then
grabbed the mattress and upended it . Then she climbed and scrambled up the mattress and over the low dividing wall.
He felt so dry. there was no water from the spigots. The woman came over the low wall and looked wantonly
at him. The man recognized an old flame, and she put her arms on his shoulders. She looked
perfect . She announced they should be together forever. He wanted to think, but could not. He
just looked at her face. As he did a horrific lesion appeared. It was not a gash. It could have been by the
look of it. There was no blood or gore, no scab, as if it formed over a long time in a lifeless body from below her
eye to above her lip. More lesions began to appear.. Then a root, earthy and tenticular, went through her and around
him too. More roots pierced through him. Soon they were bound together enshrouded by roots and earth, except
that she was gone now, and, so was his companion.
A rush of loneliness an pain went through him. Root and worms seemed to undulate in and out of him.
They seemed to pass him along, a biological conveyor, as he descended ever lower into the heart of the earth.
The Billy Graham sermon rang now in his ears. If not today, then your heart will harden against the
saviour. "No," he said. "It is soft now, I am ready." The rustling of roots by his worm plugged ears seemed to
be whispering, "Too late."
He fell through an opening wombgate of roots into a dark black cell with stone walls and a thick barred
wood door. He knew it would never open for any good reason. He tried to move, but the rough journey and the excessive
gravity wouldn't allow it.
It was hot as fire, dry as a hot stone. He was weak as a kitten whose new owner had just rolled
on top of him. The foul putrid smell strangled him in the fiery heat. If he could raise his arms, he would try
to push away this hell whose backside held his head.
The door opened up and the best developed, yet completely sinister man came through it, paced around the weak
and weary scrathed and bruised earthbourn pilgrim. Red blood dripped from the wicked hands. He picked up the new
inmate and squeezed the last of his now cool blood from his now hardening arteries and veins. Then he pounded the hard
stone floor with the now parched inmate. The pounding made the heart start with a fit of jerking and coughing.
As he tried to scream, "Jesus, Help me!" then he saw the caring face of a young attractive paramedic woman holding
two blue gray blocks! She yelled, "He's coming back He's coming back after 17 minutes of CPR the defibrillator brought
him back."
As he coughed back to life, he said, "Wow, I almost gave in to God. You saved me just in time."
