Gorge, a novel in progress by Michael Gullo (2026)
“Okay. Let’s hit it.”
“Did you get enough this time?”
“I took it all.”
“Where to first?”
“I guess we go and see what we see.”
“An adventure.”
“Old times.”
“Those benches are cool. I didn’t notice them when I came in. I love the retaining walls – It’s a flower bed.”
“How’d you make them look so natural?”
“Poor planning.”
“Curved concrete walls everywhere. That’s a real aesthetic.”
“Plywood bends easily.”
“So you built plywood walls, and you filled them with concrete?”
“How many trucks?”
“None.”
“You made all of those walls with bags of concrete?”
“Yup, and a Mudmixer.”
“How long’d that take?”
“We did them one at a time as spare time allowed.”
“The leaves are coming in good.”
“This year’ll be so thick now that we’re done running machines all over the place.”
“Is there enough solar?”
“I mean, we run the whole house off of it and charge the two biggest vehicle batteries on the market.”
“Is it secure in a collapse or whatever?”
“I mean, it’s safe as I can make it. There’s cameras.”
“Oh, good. So you’ll get mooned as they steal your shit.”
“Those ten arrays in the field are tough to protect, but I put five over-panel arrays on the workshop roof in back of the house. Those are a little easier to protect.”
“Still turning right?”
“Nothing to the left but neighbors.”
“What are you doing?”
“Why don’t you tint your windows?”
“They were tinted, but I couldn’t see at night.”
“I don’t want neighbors to see that nobody’s home.”
“You still worried about that kid?”
“I’m not worried about Cody Norman.”
“You’re a little worried.”
“I am not.”
“That’s not what you were saying on the phone.”
“It ended best for a guy like that, but there’s no sense get me back on his mind.”
“Which one’s his?”
“He lives up that way.”
“Then why are you ducking down?”
“--- Operational security. Do you remember Central Avenue in Albany?”
“Well, yeah. Of course.”
“We have a couple of those here. We’ll head down Chapman and see what we see, and if maybe even head into Knoxville, take a ride down Kingston Pike.”
“So like a Sunday drive? Don’t you need anything?”
“I mean, not really. That’s what prepared means. While everyone else is running around looking for easter eggs, I watch the show from home.”
“Or the armored vehicle.”
“Armored. I’d push back. You can close Clover’s window.”
“It’s a little armored.”
“1991 steel is not armor.”
“There’s Kevlar blankets on the walls back there and here in the doors.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“Nope. Amazon, baby.”
“I looked up cocaine and hookers once on there just to make sure.”
“Any luck?”
“There was a T-shirt, but no massages.”
“Give it time.”
“Holy – The Grille’s open. Quick. Pull in here.”
“Where?”
“Right, right.”
“You know this thing doesn’t stop like your fancy charging brakes, right?”
“Made it, didn’t we?”
“Why are we..?”
“Breakfast, bro.”
“It’s noon.”
“Breakfast all day.”
“Are they really open?”
“No lights at the Spero though.”
“What’s a Spero?”
“The mental health counseling place.”
“You a patient?”
“They don’t do acute care.”
“Here?”
“Oh yeah. Park this baby right in the front window.”
“Serious, is that dog gonna just lay around my bed all day?”
“We have laundry machines.”
“Comfy back there, girl?”
“Christy’s here.”
“Do they only serve breakfast?”
“Nope. Ladies first.”
“Thanks.”
“Heya, Christy!”
“Hey, Michael. I’m not sure I’m supposed to let you in here without Stefanie.”
“She told me to be on my best behavior.”
“This is like a Bugs Bunny tent.”
“Cool, ha?”
“Stucco shopping center on the outside and custom artisan beams and dark wormy wood in here– it’s unnerving.”
“It’s the cozy nooks – you should see that one in front. It’s like all rough sawed cedar or whatever, but white washed like it’s been here a hundred years.”
“It’s a cool effect.”
“Hello, boys – are you gonna sit down, or gawk at papaw’s patchwork?”
“Undecided.”
“Christy, this is James. He’s an old buddy from back when I was sick.”
“Sick?”
“He got out too, but he didn’t have the sense to move south.”
“Where you from, James?”
“I was born in Miami, but I went to the same bad kid boarding school this guy went to, and then I lived around a little.”
“Where did you come from today?”
“How’d you know I got here today?”
“Just an expression.”
“Who knows the story of all these booths?”
“Wow!”
“Wow, what?”
“It’s just Yankees take some getting used to. Ask a question, get a question. Ask another, get two more.”
“He’s actually really nice. He’s just not used to the I-did-it-my-way thing as a whole aesthetic.”
“Well, sit him down, I’ll get a cold compress.”
“He’ll be okay.”
“Like, do you know the story – where each of these booth sets came from? I can see them from here in the back of a pickup, ratchet straps… You said Papaw – old fella driving, window down, next to me at the redlight out there in front waiting to turn in with his prize.”
“You know, James. The place next door does addiction therapy.”
“It’s closed.”
“Sit in this one, James. I’ll make up a story about it for you.”
“Thanks, Christy.”
“You want Coffee, Coke, and Orange Juice. How about you?”
“Coffee, please.”
“Milk?”
“Is the cow out back?”
“Nope. Fresh from US Foods.”
“Did they deliver today?”
“Unloading the truck right now. That guy’s got a story. He was delivering at the Irish bar this morning, and the owners of the nail salon like next door or whatever were arguing, and they shot each other.”
“Like, did he see it?”
“No. He says he got there, and there were cops everywhere.”
“Shot dead?”
“Yes, both of them.”
“What’s the fight over?”
“I don’t know. He was telling it when you walked in.”
“Oh, man. Don’t worry about us. Go get the scoop.”
“I’ll get your drinks first. I know what you want. How about you, James?”
“Cook me that smell. I’ll have that.”
“That’s breakfast.”
“Does it smell different at dinner?”
“Burgers.”
“Surprise me with Michael’s usual.”
“That’s easy enough. I’ll be right back.”
“I forgot my phone in the truck.”
“Oh, there’s a new one. How long before we stop thinking to look up the news on our phone the second we hear a story like that?”
“Well, we know it’s not here in the first hours.”
“It’s probably a week or so.”
“How?”
“Rent checks were last week, and the holiday skewed things a bit, but this is at least day four or five.”
“I didn’t expect it to be like this – I mean almost three years ago, I walked in here one cold ass morning because a sign on the side of the road said, now serving breakfast. I spent the next two and a half years building a property and stocking it and playing make pretend there would be some kind of Armageddon, and here we are, and it’s like a slow motion fog settling into the valley. Everyone knows what it is, but it’s so slow nobody seems to care.”
“Same thing. I left Hammond, and I knew. I mean, I knew what it is, but it was like, if I make this meeting, and I can close this, it’s double my year. I really did leave Joan and the guys there, and I headed out sincerely thinking it might still happen.”
“There he is. When are you heading back?”
“They got it covered up there, but when the phone didn’t work this morning I almost headed back. All honest, I figured I’m close, and I’ll stop in, and I’ll head back tonight, but now Stefanie’s on the road, and…”
“You don’t have to stay for me, bro.”
“Not that. I mean, if she gets in trouble, mine’s the truck to go in.”
“She’s not in trouble. Have you met her? And Phil – She might as well be her baby crib with old Tommy spinning the pinwheel.”
“Is he the guy she went to prom with?”
“No, that’s the guy that built the house shell, Maddron.”
“So, who’s Phil?”
“Oh, sorry. Here she comes.”
“Boys. I got the scoop. He didn’t know everything. He got it second hand from the cook at the Irish Pub, and there was a language barrier.”
“Well?”
“He thinks they were fighting over the money. The one came to take the cash, and the other one was already there taking it.”
“And?”
“That’s all I got. I’m going back. Food’ll be here in a minute.”
“Cash. It’s the holy grail for a bit.”
“Won’t last long though.”
“But, speaking of Ireland – I read this article once about a town in Ireland. Like England cut them off from the banking system, and the townspeople, the whole country, like shrugged it off. They just kept on writing each other checks and keeping records of who owed what to whom and life went on.”
“Yeah, but that’s hundreds of years ago.”
“No. It was like the seventies or something like that.”
“And if the phone still worked, I would already be looking that up.”
“You might get to live it.”
“Locally, maybe.”
“Like, that’s what reminded me first – in the gas station. They keep tabs for people – I couldn’t believe she even said it. I owe you two-hundred bucks by the way for the diesel – I’ll get your breakfast.”
“These are hours from valueless.”
“For now they’re fifties.”
“Food’s here.”
“Okay, boys. Country Fried Steak and two over easy eggs, potatoes…”
“That’s the smell.”
“Yup.”
“Did you get enough of these ordered to last the whole Armageddon?”
“Oh, thank God you said it! Terry’s in one hundred percent denial. I said it this morning, and he almost cut my tongue out.”
“I bet he digs the cash-only though.”
“He’s been locking his office door all weekend every time he leaves it – puts the garbage can in front and everything.”
“A whole weekend of cash. You’re lucky he doesn’t post an armed guard.”
“Speaking of that, I have a fish sandwich for little Clover. Can I go give it to her?”
“Absolutely.”