Self Storage

I hadn't thought about that. This really was going to me my last meal of real food for the rest of my life. Whoa! "Everything!" I said. "Pancakes, bacon, eggs, french toast, Belgian waffles, butter, syrup, orange juice, coffee."

"I can do all that if you want," he said.

"Okay, wait," I said. "I don't want to make myself sick. Not now. Maybe I should eat light. Toast and a couple of strips of bacon? And a cup of coffee?"

"Sounds perfect," he said.

It didn't take him long to make our breakfast. He made plenty of toast and fried plenty of bacon for both of us. His coffee was pretty good, too. I had to resist overeating. I really didn't want to gorge and be sick later. What if I do get sick in storage? Well, I didn't want to think about that.

After I finished two cups of coffee, I asked, "So when do I get put into storage?"

He smiled at me and said, "Right now, if you want."

"I want!" I said eagerly.

He stood, and I followed him through the house past his bedroom, past a second bedroom, and into a third bedroom that just had a desk, a funny looking couch, a step ladder leaning against the wall, and a bunch of cardboard moving boxes.

I watched as he picked up a corner of the carpeting and slowly rolled it back. The six manhole covers were there in the floor, just like in his ad.

"Which one am I going in?" I asked.

He walked over to the desk and flipped through a calendar. "You're going in number four."

I watched as he set up the step ladder over plate number 4, and got a winch out from under the desk and hung it from a hook in the ceiling. He lowered a cable from the winch and hooked it to plate number four. He fiddled with a switch and the plate slowly rose out of the hole with the four rods hanging down. Water dripped from it as it rose out of the water.

A minute later, the thing hung from the winch, with a top plate, a bottom plate, and four vertical metal rods between them. He removed a wad of shiny latex from one of those storage boxes and set it on the weird couch.

"All right, Karen," he said. "It's time to get in."

I suddenly realized I was still naked, which was as well. "Before I get in," I said, "I'm depending on this mechanism to keep me alive for the rest of my life. How does it all work?"

"Simple," he said. "You're in a latex body suit and manacled into this frame so that you can't move at all." He held up a the head of the latex suit with the mouthpiece attached and with several hoses and tubes attached to it. "This mouthpiece is part of the latex suit so that it can't fall out of your mouth accidentally. It's held over your mouth tightly by the latex suit. The two tubes let you breathe."

"Why two tubes?" I asked. "Why not just one?"

"With just one air tube, you'd be breathing in our own breath. The other ends of each of these air tubes has a flap. One flap opens in, and one flap opens out. That way, when you breathe in, you're always getting fresh air through the input tube."

He showed me the mouth piece up close. "Now there are these other two smaller tubes. One is connected to a small tank of water and the other is connected to a 55 gallon drum of liquified baby food in here." He opened the bedroom closet.

"What are the suitcases for?" I asked.

"Oh," he said, "those belong to the other three people currently in storage. They have a fresh change of clothes and whatever else they need when they come out of storage."

"Oh, okay," I said.

He pointed to a small white tank and a 55 gallon drum. "The small tank holds water. It's connected to the water supply and is kept full automatically, but it's not under pressure, so you can just suck water out of the water tube whenever you're thirsty. The drum, I keep full of liquified baby food. That way, you just suck the food through the other tube whenever you get hungry."

"I guess I'm going to get sick of baby food after a while," I said.

"I guess," he laughed.

"What about when I, you know, pee and poop?" I asked.

"There's two holes in the latex suit under your crotch and ass. You'll go right into the water. Each silo has an overflow drain above your head just below floor level. So it won't fill up and overflow."

"I see," I said.

"It's all pretty much self-contained and self-maintaining," he said. "The only thing I have to do is fill that drum with baby food every few months or so. I always keep it at least half full, just in case, you know?"

"Yeah," I said. "That's good." I swallowed hard. I had no excuse to wait any longer.

"So," he said, "Are you certain you want to go into storage?"

"Yes," I said.

"Permanently?"

"Yes," I said. "Permanently."

"You do realize, don't you, that once you go in, there's no way to signal the outside? There's absolutely nothing you can do to let me know you want to come out before your end date. And in your case, there is no end date."

"I realize that."

"I'll make an exception for you, if you want. Do you want a button to signal me if you want to come out?" he asked. "Or have me take you out each year to check on you?"

"No! No! No!" I screeched. "Put me in and forget about me!" I demanded.

Harry held up his hands and said, "Okay. If that's how you want it."

"That's how I want it!" I snapped. "I don't want there to be any way for me to change my mind once I'm in storage."

"Okay then," he said and held up the latex body suit to my body. I stepped into it and he slid the hood over my head. The face of the hood covered my eyes, and everything went black. Then I felt him zip it closed.

I could sense the pocket of air over my mouth where the breathing cup was. And the two feeding tubes extended slightly into my mouth, but not too deep. I sucked from one. Ah! Water. I sucked from the other. Yuck! Strained carrots.

"Stand," he said, so I stood.

Holding my arm, he escorted me a few steps and I stepped up onto that plate. It felt a little squishy hanging from that cable.

I felt him close the metal rings around my neck, waist, and chest. Then he clamped shackles around my wrists and my upper arms. Lastly he clamped more shackles around my thighs and ankles. I tried to move, and couldn't. There was no give at all. I was held in place perfectly rigid.

For a brief moment, I considered calling out and telling him I've changed my mind before it's too late.

"Can you breathe?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. My voice sounded strange. Muffled.

"Good," he said. "I can hardly hear you, and I'm standing right next to you. You're breathing through the tubes now. Take a sip of water and food now, just to check."

I already did, but I did again. Water, check. Baby food, check. "Water and food are good," I said.

"Last chance!" he said. "Ready?"

I almost said "No." My heart was pounding so hard. "Yes," I said. "Do it."

I heard a buzzing sound and felt movement. Then a coolness on my feet that very slowly rose up my legs.

I had the sudden impulse to shout "Stop!" before it's too late. Am I throwing my life away? I suddenly wasn't sure. It took all my will power to remain silent.

The coolness rose up my body, and finally over my head. I felt a sudden thud, then stillness and silence. I took a deep breath. I took a sip of water. I took another mouthful of strained carrots.

Now what? I tried to move again. And again, I was held rigidly in place. I could turn my head a little from side to side, but that's all the movement I had. The complete darkness was terrifying. Being held rigidly still in shackles was terrifying. Knowing that I was submerged in water over my head, breathing through a tube, was terrifying.

I called out, "Let me out! I changed my mind! Harry!" but my voice didn't come out very loud at all. Maybe the back pressure from breathing through tubes prevented me from yelling. I struggled again, but the metal shackles and rings had no give at all.

"Let me out! Let me out!" I called again and again. I'm still young. I can still do this when I get older. I want the rest of my life back!

I started to cry.

****

Harry disconnected the cable from the plate, set the ladder in place, and removed the winch from the ceiling. He returned the equipment to its place under the desk and unrolled the carpeting onto the floor once again. The room returned to its ordinary appearance as a spare unused bedroom.

He glanced at the desk. In the back of the calendar, he marked silo number 4 as occupied, but didn't mark any date as the exit date for number 4.

Checking his watch, it was getting on time for lunch. There was still some unfinished bacon in his frying pan.

* END *