The Gym Read online

  THE GYM

  B.P. Kasik

  Literary Works by the Author:

  Used Zombies

  The Gym

  Fruit Beast

  Dementia-13 Part-2

  Generic Mystery

  Henrika

  Aunts Aren’t Ladies!

  Gathering

  Wahoo

  Heavy Metal Scientology Aliens

  The Speed and the Fury

  Mystery Shopper Menace!

  Dragon Mormon

  The PDEMF! Series:

  Please Don’t Eat My Face!

  Man of Florida

  Florida Strong!

  The Derpa Derp Series:

  Best Sellers

  Generic Romance

  Fast Breaks

  Atonement Lost

  Atonement Found

  The Eric Roberts Series:

  Eric Roberts: The True* Story

  Eric Roberts 2: Acoustic Boogaloo

  Eric Roberts 3: Lord of the Screen

  Copyright © 2016 by B.P. Kasik. All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States of America by me, B.P. Kasik

  Cover image used under license from Shutterstock.com, with graphic design assistance by H.B. Kasik

  Author Photo by Cthulhu’s Librarian

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Acknowledgements

  This one is dedicated to the Knights.

  They introduced us to our local gym, along with most great things in our life. Everything they’ve said and done has changed our lives for the better. There’s no way I would have survived parenthood, let alone written this book, without them.

  Full disclosure: the gym they encouraged us to join is much nicer than the one in this book.

  Chapter 1

  One cold morning, the Gym appeared.

  No one in the neighborhood noticed any construction work. No one could remember there ever being a building there before. Or anything.

  But there the Gym was.

  It had an odd location, situated between the recently-gentrified Downtown Mall and a row of debilitated ranch houses built in the 70’s. The Gym was a big brick chunk of insulation between the upper-middle and middle-lower class.

  The debilitated houses’ residents slowly drifted out their front doors and into the shadow of the monolithic building that popped up across the street. It blocked their panoramic view of the Blue Ridge Mountains in the east, making this their first morning without a sunrise splashing on their front lawns.

  But that didn’t mean it was dark. The gym’s orange neon sign was so bright, it vividly illuminated the entire early-dawn street. The sign at the building’s center was placed above the front glass doors like an angry set of eyebrows. Large, terse, in bold Helvetica font: “THE GYM.”

  One of the Gym-adjacent residents, Jerry, was awakened by the bright vivid neon glow when the sign went live at 7 A.M. The sudden glow pouring through his bedroom window looked like the sun getting activated with a switch. His eyelids burning, Jerry shook himself awake from uneasy dreams and got up from bed, shielding his eyes against the abrasive light.

  Jerry winced as he got out of bed, his mostly-healed broken ankle still stinging with each step to the bathroom and then down the stairs.

  Still blinking the sleep and dreams from his foggy eyes, he poured himself a cup of coffee left over from the previous night’s thermos. He carried his mug outside, staring up at the invading structure as he sipped.

  He looked up and down the street. Every one of his neighbors was up and on their lawns. And they all had neon orange fliers jammed next to the flags on their mailboxes.

  Curious, he approached his mailbox and pulled the flyer out, getting a small papercut in the process. A small drop of blood fell on the flyer that said, “THE GYM. Open House this Thursday.”

  Short. Simple. To the point. No photos or details or pricing information.

  From where he stood, he could see inside the row of four glass doors up front. There were a number of figures scurrying about, carrying objects and moving furniture around.

  As they scrambled to prepare for their grand opening, he wondered how he hadn’t noticed the gym’s construction. Was he really that oblivious?

  Sure, like a lot of people, he just stared at his phone while walking from place to place. You miss a lot that way. But he must have driven by this place under construction dozens of times. Not to mention all the construction noise it must have made. How did he miss that?

  And for the love, why was the gym’s neon sign on during the day?

  Chapter 2

  Like everyone else in the neighborhood, Jerry looked forward to the mysterious new building’s open house.

  Being stuck at home on disability, it was nice to have something to do.

  At least for the next few weeks, Jerry had to remain housebound. He couldn’t work for Patterson’s Electric or do any freelance gigs. If he was spotted doing any work for hire, he’d have to forego every penny of his disability pay. And his health advisor told him that was no joke—disability companies regularly paid private detectives to follow disability recipients around and take photos of them doing any unauthorized work.

  Jerry’s ankle was freshly-shattered when the health advisor dropped that bombshell, so it didn’t bother him at all. With the amount of pain he’d been in—even with painkiller assistance—he couldn’t imagine getting on his feet and working on anything again. Ever.

  But that was over a month ago, and his bones healed and his mind and body grew restless.

  Without the threat of losing his disability pay, he’d definitely be out there limping around and installing wiring on a work site.

  The funny thing was, he remembered falling off the ladder at work, but not landing. And he couldn’t remember where he was or what he was doing. His rehabilitation trainer said it wasn’t unusual to have post-traumatic memory loss. Heck, he was grateful for it. Especially when he saw the x-rays of his bones fragmented all over the inside of his leg. The less he remembered, the better.

  He looked at his crutches as he approached the front door.

  He considered taking them. He was able to walk around the house, as well as to and from his car, without much difficulty. But touring the gym was going to be a strain, with lots of distance walking, and starts & stops. And stairs.

  He shook it off, decided to leave his crutches behind. He hated using them. He hated how it made people look at him and he hated how they made him feel. Helpless.

  Plus, he wanted to walk normally as much as possible, since his doctor told him putting pressure on the bones helps them heal.

  So he walked uneasily down his front steps and across the street, entering the open gym doors along with his neighbors. Looking through the crowd, he felt embarrassed about not knowing any of their names, even after years of living within a block of them.

  He took halting, slightly painful steps through the lobby. He realized he really should have worn the support boot he’d been prescribed; he wasn’t yet ready to walk around on his unsupported ankle for long. He hoped the tour wouldn’t be too extensive.

  But even viewed through the mild fog of pain, the place was stunning.

  The front counter was a thick, dark chunk of mahogany. The empty snack bar across the room appeared fully stocked with the finest organic gourmet foods. There was an enormous flight of glass steps leading up to the second floor. The lobby area beyond the stairs looked like a stone-walled million-dollar ski lodge, with black leather couches and chairs, a circular glass fire place in the center with a glass smokestack disapp
earing into the high ceiling.

  Jerry had never seen anything like it.

  A slick-looking man in a business casual outfit appeared from the room behind the counter, flashing gleaming pearly whites at the crowd.

  He approached the glass stairs and continued to smile. He stopped and said nothing for an uncomfortably long stretch. Several people in the group coughed. But no one said anything.

  “Welcome!” he shouted into the silence. “This is the Gym. And I want you to make this your third place.”

  People looked around at each other, only a few nods of recognition among them.

  “Your third place,” he continued, “is somewhere that isn’t home and isn’t work. Some of you already have such a place. Maybe a bar. A restaurant. Or some other place that fills you up with harmful chemicals. We’re here to end that. We want you to have a HEALTHY third place.”

  The crowd continued its silence, as the strange Gym representative continued to stand there, seemingly oblivious to the discomfort in the silence.

  “I am Deane. I’m the supervisor here in the main area. And I want to make your Gym experience as pleasant as possible. But enough about me! How about we check this place out?”

  “Hey, what about your crazy bright light out front?” Jerry heard some wiseguy ask.

  “Yeah,” a few people murmured.

  The Gym rep’s smile was constant. “We apologize for any inconvenience! It’s part of our branding. We are the only gym that shines its light 24 hours a day because we want you to be thinking about your health 24 hours a day. Keep your inner fire burning!”

  A few smiles, a few nods. Jerry wasn’t sold on it, but everyone else seemed satisfied, so okay.

  And then Deane waved for them to join him as he ascended the glass stairs. From Jerry’s viewing angle, the rep appeared to be walking on air.

  Jerry panicked at the notion of climbing all those stairs. He looked around for an elevator and found one next to the snack bar. He approached it and jabbed the button.

  “Sorry, sir!” called Deane from halfway up the stairs. “Haven’t gotten the elevator running yet. Construction delays, I’m sure you understand!”

  Jerry nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. He noticed that the stairs were unusually large. At least twice as big as any he’d ever climbed. He wondered why they would build them that way.

  He let everyone in the group go up the stairs before gripping the railing and taking a deep breath.

  He hoped no one would turn and watch him struggle as he took the first step up with his right foot. He grunted. Even with the railing’s support, putting so much weight on his left ankle was excruciating. He lifted his left foot up next to his right, which was much less stressful. He repeated the process a couple dozen more times and it never got any easier.

  But the pain evaporated from his mind as he looked around on the second floor.

  There was a giant warehouse-sized space full of free weights, treadmills, Stairmasters, exercise bikes, bench press stations, resistance training machines, and a stretching area with several mats. All expected.

  What was unexpected was the array of fine art displayed all the way up to the ceiling on all four walls. He recognized a few pieces by Renoir and some Picassos and Pollocks scattered among them, but every single work of art looked classy and even color-coordinated. Blue-shaded paintings and yellow-shaded paintings were all grouped together, creating a subtle striping effect around the room.

  And the ceiling had a dozen crystal chandeliers, keeping the lighting even and warm in conjunction with the slim floor-to-ceiling windows spaced evenly around the room.

  If someone told Jerry those chandeliers were made of diamonds, he wouldn’t doubt it for a moment.

  Looking down, he saw a narrow moat-like pool surrounding the comprehensive workout area in the center. It looked like one of those “lazy rivers” Jerry remembered seeing at a water park as a kid.

  He looked closer into the water channel and saw that the bottom was translucent and looked down on a series of dimly-lit workout rooms on the lower level.

  So people can look up from those rooms and watch people swim in circles!?

  It was gorgeous and oddly brilliant, but...definitely more odd than brilliant.

  There were several small rooms leading off from the main room. Their doors were all closed.

  Jerry noticed that the Gym representative hadn’t said a word as everyone stood slack-jawed, taking it all in. The place spoke for itself. Though it was saying some strange things.

  What kind of gym looks like this?

  Jerry looked at the scruffy-stubbled guy next to him and murmured, “So is this Wonderland, or Oz?”

  The stranger half-smiled. “Could be Narnia. Don’t eat the candy.”

  Jerry nodded. “Roger that.”

  Deane spoke up. “As you see, our facilities are designed by the finest minds in European architecture, no expense spared to provide you with an optimum workout experience. It’s all for your health!”

  The stranger next to Jerry took a step toward the nearest wall and looked closely at one of the paintings. He raised his hand. Deane laughed and said, “You can just speak up, sir! No need for hand-raising!”

  “Yeah, uh...these are all reprints, yes? This painting has the texture of an original.”

  The Gym representative smiled. “We only give you the best. And reprints are not the best!”

  “Aren’t you worried someone might steal this? It’s gotta be worth…like…”

  “A great deal, yes! But we’ve never had issues with theft at the Gym. Your concern is appreciated, though! Would you like to see the third floor?”

  A general murmur of approval went through the crowd but Jerry looked back at the stairs and muttered, “Please, no.”

  The stranger stepped near him and whispered, “Seen enough?”

  “No, no. I’m just having trouble with the stairs.”

  “Yeah, I saw you struggling back there. Sprain your ankle?”

  “Something like that. Shattered it in two spots.”

  “Ouch. You wanna get out of here? I’ll help you back down the stairs.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’d like to see the rest. This place…”

  The stranger nodded. “It’s something. Don’t know what, but...something!”

  Jerry walked alongside him to the glass stairs leading to the third floor. At least these were normal-sized instead of the monster-sized stairs coming up from the first floor.

  Jerry ascended the steps on his own after the crowd cleared past him.

  The stranger remained at his side, making sure Jerry didn’t fall.

  “I’m Ben, by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ben. My friends and enemies alike call me Jerry.”

  “Good to know!”

  They arrived on the third floor and saw a sparkling entryway leading to another indoor pool. This one was a standard rectangle, divided into a kiddie area with play equipment and colorful statues on one end and a deep end with a high dive on the other. Several rows of swimming lanes cut through the middle. The walls were tiled gold.

  Ben wasted very little time gawking and blurted out, “Aren’t high dives illegal now?”

  The Gym rep shook his head. “Illegal? No. But they are increasingly rare due to liability issues. Deep ends are scarce for the same reason. But the Gym wants to provide you the optimum swimming experience and we are willing to pay higher insurance premiums to make your time here more fun and pleasant.”

  Ben nodded, then whispered to Jerry, “That’s actually pretty cool. I miss high dives.”

  Jerry had to agree. He noticed a few inlets running along one side of the pool room with steam emerging. He looked closer and saw a half-dozen hot tubs. Why so many?

  He saw a hallway stretching down in the other direction from the pool, lined with closed doors, and another glass staircase at the end of that hallway.

  “But we saved the best for last!” the Gym rep shouted, and led them toward
a nearby oversized oak door. He pushed it open and the sunlight nearly blinded them.

  They walked out on to the balcony and Jerry beheld the largest infinity pool he’d ever seen. It would be right at home in one of those architectural magazines Jerry used to flip through in waiting rooms, before he had a smartphone.

  The Gym was in the middle of a neighborhood, but the edge of the building was above the trees, keeping the houses out of sight and giving the illusion that the water was pouring off and into a forest.

  On the adjacent lounging patio, there was a wide array of antique pure silver outdoor chairs and tables.

  No one said a word.

  Ben looked down at the smooth ruby-tiled patio floor and felt like he was in an exotic fairy tale palace.

  The Gym rep waited for the dramatic moment to pass, then folded his arms and asked, “Any questions?”

  Silence reigned.

  Then Jerry looked back down the long hallway and asked the Gym rep, “What’s up those stairs on the fourth floor?”

  “Oh, administrative offices. Still under construction.”

  Jerry frowned. Something about that sat wrong with him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  The rep turned to the group. “Very well, then! We’re offering a one-month free trial! If you’re pleased with your experience, we hope you will become members. Please fill out the paperwork at the front counter on your way out!”

  The rep walked back inside and Jerry heard a bell sound.

  He looked back and saw the elevator door open for the Gym rep, who walked right in. Jerry sneered and asked, “Elevator just start working?”

  “Seems so,” the rep quietly replied, before the doors slid shut on his ever-smiling face. His teeth went on forever.

  Ben came up to his side. “This place…”

  Jerry nodded. “It’s a thing.”

  They took their sweet time looking off into the distance, then turned and got on the elevator together.

  The rest of the crowd was seated on the elegant pool furniture and soaking up the sun and the view. As the door closed, Jerry was pretty sure he saw one of them slowly descend into the infinity pool, fully clothed.