Demon Wind

2

Not only had Josh been late for work, but because of his tardiness, Josh had been assigned the crappiest job there was. Josh was employed by the Department of Public Works in the city of St. Albans. There was never much to be done during the summer months, unless a water main broke. He usually spent his time driving the street sweeper. That was what everyone referred to as the cake job. St. Albans was very small for a city; in fact, most states would not even consider it a suburb. It sat right in the middle of St. Albans town, and most people were never certain when they had gone from one to the other. There was Main Street that ran from one end to the other, effectively bisecting the city. The two other main roads for traffic were Lake and Federal Street. Lake Street went from the center of the city from Main all the way down to the Bay section of the town of St. Albans. Federal Street ran parallel to Main Street on the northern half of the city.

Even though he was a few minutes late for work, it did not mean that he had to rush out the door. He sat at his desk, which was tucked in a corner of the large common space known as the hub. The hub was where all of the city workers, a crew of six, had a desk with a computer. Typically these were used to check e-mails or to take online courses for updated policies. The hub was a very large room, with walls made of cinder blocks. They were painted green with a gold stripe in the middle of the wall, in honor of the local high school's colors. The floor was covered with a dull grey industrial tile and the nine foot high ceiling was your typical while drop ceiling. Installed in the ceiling were fluorescent lights. There were three doors leading out of the hub. On the north wall was the door that led to the employee parking area, the east wall led to the boss's office and the west wall to the garage. After checking his e-mail and seeing if there was any course work to be done, Josh got up and sought out his boss, Skip. Skip was not his real name, but that was what everyone called him. A few of the old timers knew his real name, but they were not giving it out.

Josh entered the office and saw that skip was not alone. Skip's office was pretty sparse considering the man had been employed with the city for nearly forty years, and running the crew for thirty. Skip looked up from his monitor and said, "Ahh Josh, today you are to head to south Main Street and work with Floyd running the spackle machine." This was a machine that heated up tar and sprayed it into cracks in the pavement. This was supposed to seal the cracks and prevent them from growing larger, and save the City from having to pave. Josh just thought it was the job they gave to people to punish them. Not only was summer in full swing, with high temperatures in the nineties, the machine itself ran at two hundred fifty degrees and you had to wear coveralls, thick gloves, knee high rubber boots and a face shield to keep from burning yourself.

Floyd was about the most detestable human Josh had ever met. He was pushing sixty-five, the retirement age for city workers. He had been employed by the city since he graduated from high school, and was very resentful that he had never been promoted to a position of power. That did not stop Floyd from barking orders at people though. Josh figured he thought his age and years of service gave him the right, however Josh did not agree with this opinion. Since he was stuck working on this with Floyd, he knew he'd be the one doing all the dirty work while Floyd sat in the cab of the truck soaking up the air conditioning. His lack of activity probably explained why Floyd weighed almost three hundred pounds. Josh never understood how his five-foot tall frame supported the weight. The city could not supply Floyd with uniforms any longer as the company they bought them from did not carry such large sizes. Today Floyd was dressed in tattered jeans that revealed his enormous butt crack whenever he tried to bend over, and a t-shirt that was several sized too small for him. Floyd's enormous gut hung out from the bottom of the shirt, but that was not what Josh found most repulsive. It was the fact that Floyd was a nose picker, and he was in the habit of wiping his liberated prizes on his shirt. Floyd also smelled like he showered once a month, his curly hair was always greasy and matted down like he had just climbed out of bed.