The Lasting Joy of Leroy Jones

        “Hello?... Is anyone here?” The mans voice echoed through the darkened warehouse.
         “Hello! I'm, uh, here about the ad for a forklift driver that was in today's paper. My name is Leroy Jones... Anyone here? This is 100 Bay Street, yea?” Only echos.
         
         The warehouse was stacked with crates of varying sizes, apparently in no particular order. No wonder they were advertising for a forklift driver. Leroy noted that the crates looked as though they had not been moved, or even touched in years. Looking over a lower stack of crates, Leroy was able to spy an office raised up on stilts against the far wall. He thought he saw a lamp light on through the office window.
         
         'Well, okay... That must be the managers office.' Leroy mumbled and began to follow the dim sunlight that filtered in through the grimy skylight windows towards the staircase of the raised office.
         
         The crates were maddeningly arranged, twisting corridors and dead ends. Leroy was becoming increasingly frustrated as he followed his reckoning point, the skylight, to a third  dead end. He wanted to just climb to the top and leap from crate to crate to get to the office, like some cheesy '80's video game. He refrained from doing this as he wasn't sure how that would look, should his potential employer see him jumping around the warehouse, and Leroy really needed this job.
         
         A cloud passed before the sun, further dimming the already slight illumination in the warehouse. Tall shadows stretched up the walls like grasping fingers. Leroy heard tapping on the tin roof and new that it had started raining. Lightning flashed and Leroy thought he saw the thin finger shadows curl. Leroy thought about his car windows, maybe he had left them down, maybe he should go check to be sure. No, that was silly. He was just looking for an excuse to get out of here but he couldn't do that. He had already been turned down for work twice this week and his unemployment was up. He really needed this job, so to turn around now because it was a little scary, well...

         'What a freakin' little girl you are Leroy. Get a grip.' He whispered to himself.
         
         “Hey!” He raised his voice to the office window. “I'm here about the ad! I'm having a hard time getting to the office, ya wanna gimme some direction here?” No response.
         
         Leroy decided to try to follow the wall around to the office stairs. He made it a few yards down the long main wall before a stack of crates led back into the ridiculous maze. Leroy started to turn back to the door and noticed a light switch on the wall, finally. He pushed the green 'on' button and a random assortment of overhead lights lit up with a sickly buzz and almost immediately some began to flicker while others popped off completely. Leroy let out a sigh. It was almost better without the annoying florescent white that only acted to mimic the lightning outside. The light was just enough to give him an idea of where to go through the tangle of crates and so, Leroy wound through the dusty crates. Slowly, he could see that he was getting closer to the office. At  almost halfway across the warehouse, from what Leroy could reckon from the skylight  just about directly overhead, the crates parted to reveal a large clear area right in the middle of the huge building.

         Leroy stood at the edge of the clearing, baffled. This was definitely the oddest thing he had ever seen. In the back of his mind there was the glimmer of a thought, common sense, but it could not take hold. Leroy was transfixed. He stepped forward, slowly. He could not quite explain the scene, it was simple but it tumbled in his mind. What exactly was he looking at?

         Mannequins. Simple, unassuming and completely devoid of any significant details. Leroy counted twelve plain mannequins, no clothes, no painted on faces, no wigs. But, what was even more odd, and what had Leroy slack jawed, was that the twelve mannequins were displayed in various poses in a wide circle around a beautiful Persian rug. He stepped a bit closer. They looked, to Leroy, like Indians at a powwow dancing around a campfire. He stepped a bit closer. They looked, to Leroy as if they were enjoying themselves. That was ridiculous, they had no facial features. Leroy stepped a bit closer. They looked, to Leroy, familiar. There were formed features like cheek bones eye sockets, brow ridges, but no faces, nothing to make one stand out from another. Leroy stepped a bit closer. He reached out to touch the closest lifeless form.

         A flash of lightning. One-one thousand, two-one thousand... A sharp crack of thunder rattled the dusty crates and snapped Leroy's eyes to the skylight above. He instantly withdrew his hand, blinked and shook his head. His thoughts seemed foggy. The scent of ozone crept into the warehouse air, thick. Leroy found the office window again and, again, he thought he saw the shadow of someone moving.
         
         “Hello! I... Um, I'm here about the ad. In the paper. Ya know?” Voice cracking. Leroy suddenly felt very unsure of himself but common sense still sat nestled in the back of his mind. He moved forward toward the office staircase. Dipping between two of the dancing pose statuettes, careful not to touch them though he wasn't sure why, he stopped a moment. He thought that maybe, impossibly, the mannequins didn't look quite the same as they did a moment ago. Dismissing the idea Leroy started across the magnificent rug, red and black swirling designs and gold trim outlines sparkling like real gold. Red and black swirling designs. He stopped in the middle of the rug. Something not right with the swirling designs. He stumbled a bit. Looking down the designs swirled around Leroy's feet. Looking up the room suddenly swirled around Leroy. Red and black swirling designs and gold trim outlines. Leroy looked down at his feet and tried to trace the gold trim for some sort stability. He tried to reel in his senses. He felt off balance and his knees were weak, shaky. Vertigo gripped him from his gut. Swirling designs.

         “I... Um... Leroy Jones... Need this job... Ad in the...” The words were spoken but almost inaudible. Leroy knew what he wanted to say but couldn't force his mouth to speak. He couldn't get his legs to move forward. Everything was sloshy in Leroy's mind and his body felt rubbery, uncontrollable. He could not focus on the gold outlines anymore, the swirling designs were too intense. In a force of will Leroy pushed his head skyward. Rain spattered on the skylight and another bright flash of lightning made Leroy look away. Half blinded by the flash the spinning room appeared washed, black and white. Nausea brought Leroy down on all fours. He tried to crawl but only swayed a bit. He was able to raise his head to search for the office but the horizon was lopsided and out of focus. Everything was spinning. No, not everything. The mannequins were spinning.

         His mind was not working right. He could not figure out what was happening. Had he been drugged? Why? Would he be robbed? Good luck with that, he was broke. What was happening? Through the blurry haze the mannequins spun around him against the backdrop of ancient crates. The impossibility of everything around him bent Leroy's insides and he wretched. The liquid remains of a sausage McMuffin with egg bled into the red and black swirls, the gold trim outlines. Almost instantly he felt a little more aware but things were still lopsided and he was getting hot. He convulsed but nothing came out, his stomach was empty. Through cellophane vision the mannequins whirled around him. Were the mannequins moving, really? No. Leroy thought that he must be hallucinating, he had to be. His thoughts were coherent but it seemed as though he was thinking from the far end of a long, dark hall. It took an eternity for his thoughts to become action.
         
         Words in Leroy's head languished.
         Mouth fell open and he drooled.
         A thought of movement. No action.
         
         Attempting to wipe the strands of spittle from his lips he took the pressure off of his left arm and slowly started to list to the left. He knew he wanted to put his hand back down fast, but that didn't happen and Leroy crashed face down in the wet swirls of the rug.

         His body had a numbness, something that he equated to just the right amount of Jameson whiskey. But not the warm, this was a different kind of warm. The warmth was on his skin. Like turning your face to the sun on a spring day, chilled on the inside and toasty on the outside. Knees still planted, rump in the air, head and shoulders resting uncomfortably on the rug. Leroy closed his eyes hard. At the end of a long, dark hall thoughts churned and stumbled forward. 'Get up' was the thought that emerged from the hall and made it's way to Leroy's arms. His muscles reacted and in an amazing feat of control Leroy pushed his body up and threw himself back onto his knees, resting his butt on his heels he almost tumbled backwards. Eyes squeezed shut to block out the madness his skin began to prickle. The heat was radiating at him, not like the spring sun anymore. More like a space heater, waves of heat. There was unconscious movement as Leroy's shirt ripped open and slid off his torso to the floor. He pried his eyes open to face it. The madness.

         There was no blur, no cellophane vision, no confusion. There was dancing. Faceless, unremarkable mannequins danced. Slowly circling, they moved in choppy motions with no discernible pattern. Random thuds crept up from under the ornate rug, through Leroy's knees and into his core. He turned his head to look around, to try to make sure this was happening, he was not crazy. He turned side to side and the mannequins circled faster. He could not focus on any one in particular. He was hot now, he imagined his skin red with sun burn. The mannequins circled in their jerky dance a bit faster. The rumbling thuds from somewhere in the rug were physically louder, rattling his knees and pounding in his chest. The mannequins circled a bit faster and their dance became more deliberate, more uniform. The heat burned into Leroy's skin and under his skin. Rocking back and forth he used momentum to send his body up onto shaking legs. His head swiveled with the circling things around him, trying to focus on just one dancing image, he could not.

         The dull underground thuds shook through his feet. The sound was not underground but in the ground, from the ground. The thuds became more clear, louder yes but also more... Leroy felt the stomps in his being and in his head he could count beats, there was a beat. The mannequins circled faster but now there seemed to be a pattern to their movements. They twisted and turned and each one thumped randomly with a plain, nondescript foot.

Thump thump thump thump thump thump.

         It was so loud, the thumping, the random fake foot stomping. But it didn't sync with what he felt coming through the ground, through his feet, through his heart. The pounding in his heart. Faster the mannequins circled and faster they twirled and dipped and stomped. The beat grew around Leroy, in him. His body was swaying and in small steps he was circling clockwise trying to focus on the movements, finding sync.

Thump thump... thump thump thump... thump thump.

         A rhythm. A beat. Faster the circle spun and Leroy heard hands clap. Spinning now, still trying to focus on the faceless beings. He thought he caught a glimpse of a smile. He spun faster to keep up. Did that one just wink at him? He heard clapping, the sound of flesh on flesh. The clapping countered each thump. Faster, rhythmic, hypnotic, beating within his body. He was so hot now, sweating. With unknowing swiftness he kicked off his shoes and shed his pants, socks and underwear. Naked, he was still too hot. But the heat was in him now, he was burning from within. Absently he circled the rug clockwise countering the dancing circle. Spinning, dipping, stomping, clapping. It was so loud or was it the beat that now resonated inside of Leroy. He saw flesh, wet with sweat, a smile, long black hair... No, just nondescript beings caught in frenzied movements.

         His warmth ignited to an inferno within him and the cacophony of claps and stomps evened into a pure rhythm and soared wildly, rising in tempo and ferocity. His hands clapped involuntarily. Leroy circled and his body weaved, dipped. There was not much in the way of conscious thought in Leroy anymore. He had given up to the burn searing him from within, he was not fighting it anymore. The burn was not painful, not uncomfortable. The burn was cleansing him from the inside out. Healing Leroy from the core.

Clap, clap... Stomp, clap clap.

         Leroy was smacking his hands together and absently stomping in time. His movements were more fluid. There was a young man grinning wildly as he danced then, in a rapid spin, his appearance was absent, just another mannequin. Then there was an older woman, a look of wondrous joy on her aged face. Then her warm, weathered face was gone. Quickly the mannequins became real people and then just as quickly they were featureless. Leroy spun, dipped, clapped and stomped. A flash of thought, if Leroy could just get the beat right. He was feeling a rising joy. The dancing was furious and the rhythmic beat at a fever pitch. Time, needs, desires. None of these things mattered. Dancing, moving, how long now? Hours, days, maybe years. This new universe knew nothing about the flow of time. Leroy was not hungry, pleasantly satiated. Leroy was no longer burning hot nor was he cold. He spun and bobbed, clapped and stomped and at last he caught hold. Spinning and stomping. Throwing his hands over his head and clapping.

         Leroy was oblivious to everything that was, save for the sublime joy that coursed through his twirling body. The beat and rhythm sounded like a symphony and there was laughter, cheer. Leroy felt the pressure of a hand on his wrist. He stopped spinning just long enough to see a beautiful girl holding him. Sparkling green eyes and short cropped blond hair, she grinned a secretive smile and with her free hand she beckoned him to join them and she reentered the circle. Twisting and turning, dipping and stomping the twelve people of varying genders and ages all reveled. They were dancing with the conviction of joy, pure happiness. Still feeling the thumps within, Leroy entered the circle, throwing himself into the celebration. He had never been happier.

Clap clap, stomp. Stomp stomp clap, clap CRACK.

         A deafening stab of thunder shook the building and at the same instant the brightest flash of lightning whitewashed the warehouse and the interior lights flickered fast then went out. The storm clouds outside slid easily out of view of the sun and yellow light filtered in weakly through the dirty skylight. The pale sunlight shown down into the warehouse and illuminated an odd scene. There were thirteen nondescript mannequins in various poses in a circle around a beautiful Persian rug, red and black swirls detailed with shiny gold trim outline.