Dust from the warm dry earth is lifted up when the Corvette comes to a screeching halt. The driver gets out of the car and feels the heat of the summer air stroking the left cheek. One glance over the riverbank makes the driver smirk. ‘Good! The boat is here, well done blondie!’ .
The trunk of the Corvette is opened. Slender glove covered hands reaching in. A plastic bag filled with dirty sheets and two chrome parts of an IV dripping pole are taken out and placed in a rusty old container near the corner of the shed. Gasoline is poured into the container, drenching the sheets in fluids. The driver removes the gloves shortly to light a match and set the contents on fire. It is quite a spectacle watching the flames go higher and higher. A few breathes allows the nasty black smoke to reach the lungs. The coughing shakes the driver back to the task at hand. Next, the plastic base and the rest of the IV drip join the flaming party. “God this is gonna smell… “.
Suddenly, the silence and tranquility of the person’s peaceful refuge is disturbed by sirens coming from afar. From the sound of it they are moving in fast though and heading towards the industrial site. ‘Dammit!! I have to be quick..’ The driver runs back to the car, removes the last plastic bag in one swoop from the trunk. ‘No time to take this stuff out of the bag’. With contents and all, the bag is placed on top of the burning pile. “Oh man, this better burn really fast or else I’m screwed.”
The driver runs back to the car, closes the trunk and runs towards the boat “Shit, almost forgot the most important thing..” Back at the car the trunk sheet is lifted and the bloody brown shoes are sitting there where the spare tire used to be, just as planned. On the left next to the shoes there’s a cloth folded around an object. Just when the driver wants to open the cloth to see if the item is there, realization hits that the sirens have stopped for over thirty seconds…..”Fuck!”