Ad Nauseam - By C. W. LaSart Page 0,1

around to berate him for wasting water), Jimmy got dressed and checked the beer situation in the fridge.

Uh oh. Only two left. He decided to go into town. He thought maybe he’d stop by the café for breakfast and see Charlene. Though being in town caused him anxiety, he would do anything for the chance to exchange a few words with his favorite waitress. The thought of seeing Charlene’s smile (even if it was because she kind of had to) made up his mind. Grabbing his sweat-stained ball cap, Jimmy crammed it on his head to cover his bald spot and headed out the door.

The garage sat at the end of the walk, beyond the vegetable garden. Jimmy stopped abruptly, the sweat on his body cold despite the heat of the late June morning. The pile of guts was back, this time larger than before. Today it looked to have come from a cat or full grown rabbit. The smell was back too, much stronger this time. Jimmy could smell it from ten feet away, and became instantly erect.

All thoughts of beer and Charlene disappeared as he once again knelt in the grass.

The guts felt warm and sticky, once again clean of blood. He hefted them in his hand, careful not to pull at the section that disappeared into the ground like some strange umbilicus. A pleasant tingling permeated his flesh.

“What the blue hell is going on here?” This time Jimmy didn’t flinch, ignoring his mother’s voice in his head as she berated him for cursing.

James Allen DeLeon! You will not cuss in my house!

“I’m not in the house, Mama. And you’re dead.”

At the sound of his voice arguing with his imagination, the guts once again slurped into the ground. Jimmy grabbed tight to the end, but it broke off in his hand, leaving him holding a scant inch of gleaming intestine. He wiped it on his jeans without thought, his eyes on the hole left behind.

It was larger this time, big enough to admit his sausage-like index finger. Before he could lose his nerve, he poked the finger in and wriggled it around inside the hole. The interior was warm and moist. And slimy. Again he thought of an earthworm. Strange. Just as he was about to pull his finger out, the hole began to move. Pulling gently at his finger, it began to make those slurping noises. Sucking noises.

Jimmy pulled back so violently that he fell onto his ass in the garden. A tomato plant broke his fall, the fruit squishing beneath his considerable weight and soaking through his jeans.

Great! Just Great! Now it’s gonna look like I got my period! He laughed despite himself. Edna DeLeon hadn’t allowed cursing in her house, but it was really forbidden for men to talk about lady stuff.

Jimmy sat on the remains of the tomato plant,staring at the grass. The dark hole in the ground stared back at him, exuding its seductive odor. He wondered where it had come from and what had caused it.

Should I call someone?

Who would I even call?

He had no family left; his Dad had run off with a cocktail waitress shortly before he was born, and his mother had been an only child. He had no friends, and never held a job aside from repairing fencing for the farmers down the road. He and Mama hadn’t required much money to live on, and she had inherited a tidy sum in her bank account, including the house, when her own folks died. Now that bank account, like the house, was his. His decisions and his life were now his own, as well.

When he was still in his twenties, Jimmy had mentioned to Mama that maybe he ought to date girls, like the rest of the guys in town did. Mama quickly squashed that ambition, reminding him how cruel the kids, especially the girls at school had been. Mama always said he’d been born with more heart than brains, and she fostered his shyness, not wanting to let anyone be in the position to hurt her only child.

At thirty-seven, James DeLeon hadn’t dated since high school. Even then it had only been a few times. Both girls were so shy and sweet that he had been afraid to bring them home to his Mama, worried that she would hurt their feelings. He didn’t know if he could date at this point, or if he even wanted to. He didn’t know how to even start.

Jimmy got to his feet