Snitch Factory: A Novel by Peter Plate Read Free Book Online Page A

yourself to it?”
    “Okay, okay. I’ll see you in an hour.”
    With Rubio gone, I was alone. The building had emptied out, as if someone had pulled the plug with everyone swirling down the drain. Some went to catch the bus home, others to get rides from their spouses.
    So you can imagine my surprise when I entered the cubicle and discovered Eldon was going through my desk drawers. The idiot was so enthralled with his search, he
didn’t even hear me come in. I settled back on my aching arches, motionless, intrigued, content to watch him.
    The janitor’s white hair was luminous, near-blinding in the overhead light. He was rummaging methodically through the top drawer, the one below it and its successor with the zest of a man who knew what he was hunting for.
    He wouldn’t find much. I could’ve stopped him and told him to conserve his energy. But I enjoyed watching him bend over my desk.
    Eldon’s neck was crisscrossed with vintage acne scars. He wore a chambray work shirt, boots with soggy neoprene soles, and Wrangler jeans. I wondered what he smelled like between his legs, down there in the morass of his crotch. It had to be musty, with ghost ships for testicles and a toothpick for a cock. He ransacked the drawers, jettisoning their meager contents onto the floor, and went through the wastepaper basket. Lastly, he perused the hill of applications on my desk.
    I had to hold back a smile. I knew what Eldon wanted, but he was rooting about in my house. Should I close the doggie door on him, and listen to his agonized groans?
    One day, he’d come to his senses and understand. It was me he desired; not the paraphernalia of my job or the trappings of my power, and certainly not my paperwork. What he wanted was an explanation of why he hated me. But he could never have that from me, never.
    “That’s enough, Eldon.”
    He practically jumped out of his boots at the sound of my voice. Every blood vessel in his lime-green eyes had contracted, methedrine-crazed, when he saw me. I read in his stare the superstitious putz had actually thought he’d seen a demon, a hobgoblin.
    “Fuck, Charlene! Don’t ever do that again!”

    “Excuse me. Next time, I’ll knock first, okay?”
    “You took a few years off my life.”
    I was delighted. That I could scare him so deeply made me feel better about myself. The same way a judiciously planned and executed foray of shoplifting improves one’s self-esteem.
    “Eldon, what are you doing here?”
    “What am I doing? Weren’t you supposed to go home already?”
    “If I have to work around the clock, I’ll be here.”
    “I thought the union made you go home at five-thirty.”
    That was an impoverished riposte on his part. I could hardly contain my scorn. There were more clever things to say, but I decided to operate at Eldon’s level.
    “Okay. Let’s take this one from the top. I’m here because it’s my office, you shit. What’s your alibi?”
    Eldon winced admirably. “You should have left by now. It’s after six o’clock.”
    About three years ago in an altruistic mood, I had personally intervened to get him off the dole rolls and into a training program, which resulted in his present job. That was all very cute and perky, but to find him fucking around in my office was galling. Why did he detest me? How obvious: I’d helped him when he didn’t want it, and this was the payback.
    When I saw the welcome mat of his chest hair above the collar of his shirt, the bobbing of his adam’s apple and his desperate mouth, I had to love Eldon for the choices he’d made. What a talented man. I said to him, unkindly, “Do you have anything to say for yourself? Don’t just stand there. Speak up for yourself, damn it! I could make a lot of trouble for you!”
    This was not a good time for him. He wouldn’t be able
to look back over the scrapbook of memories that comprised the greater part of his adult life to see this caper as a victor y.
    “It was an accident. I, ah, had to do