GRIND (The Silver Nitrate Series Book 1) by Tiana Laveen Page B

out of the parking lot, making his way to Interstate-81. “I’m leavin’ like my third voicemail now. Where the hell are you? Anyway, Grandpa called me again, talkin’ crazy. Why don’t you ever answer his calls? I can’t keep leaving work early like this to keep up with his crazy ass. Call me back, man. I need you to pull your weight!” He ended the call and continued along his way until he was front and center at Loretto Community Residences.
    He exited the car, his sturdy black work boots hitting the uneven pavement. His nose wrinkled as he inhaled the strong odor of cat piss. The damn things hoarded around the place like zombies at some brain factory. The old people kept feeding the funky strays against administrative orders and pleas. They’d sneak out with their walkers, lean out windowsills, and move about clutching canes, throwing tidbits of stale bread, remnants of uneaten tuna salad, and hard candies that were sure to turn feline intestines into a science experiment gone wrong.
    “Get tha fuck outta here!” He shooed one away that approached him in a hip hop manner, its matted, shit brown fur bristled up as it sidestepped in its predatory swag. It looked at him out of its one good eye, the other coated in light green glop. “I can hiss, too!” He kicked at the thing, forcing it to finally retreat. With both hands, he pushed the glass front doors open and stepped inside, immediately accosted with the scent of lemon pledge, the stench of vomit and the sounds of some cheesy electronic music reminiscent of the Carpenters song, ‘Close To You’.
    He rounded a corner and made his way to his grandfather’s room. His annoyance grew limbs and got ready to reach out and touch someone. When he walked inside the space, the man’s bed was empty.
    “Paw!” he called out.
    The parchment colored sheets were disheveled, and a magazine lay sprawled face down amid them. Zenith cast his attention to the television that played low in the background.
    “Lifetime? Why in the hell is Lifetime on? Paw!” Zenith called out again as he looked about the room. “Paw, where are you?!” He called out once again, stepping into the hallway. On a huff, he made his way up to the front desk. “Yeah, I’m lookin’ for Hiawatha Taylor.”
    The slender blond nurse behind the counter, clad in black and white skull and bones scrubs, began to type into the computer as she widened her mouth in a yawn. “He’s in room—”
    “No.” Zenith waved his hand at her in frustration. “I know what room he’s in. I come to visit him here at least three times a week. I’ve seen you many, many times…” He looked down at her, certain his disappointment in her inattentiveness was etched along his face. All he got in response was a vacant blue stare. “He’s not in his room. I need to know where he is right now.”
    She looked down at her computer once again, as if on the verge of falling asleep. “Well… I’m not sure. He doesn’t have dance class or anything right now.”
    “Thanks, you’ve been real helpful.” He stormed off, making plans to go into the cafeteria and catch the man in there but, as he passed the room again, he heard a grunting noise… and then another. He cautiously re-entered, and immediately placed his hand over his nose.
    “Damn! Paw, are you in there?” He pointed at the closed bathroom door as if it were the entrance to Hell… it sure smelled like it.
    “Zen, is that you?” the old man called out before flushing the john.
    “Yes! Are you alright?”
    “They’re tryna poison me, Zen!” the man said before a series of shuffling noises ensued. “Gave me some beans… gave me the shits!”
    Zenith sat on the edge of the bed and glanced listlessly at the television now featuring a car commercial.
    “I should have known something was wrong! They smelled like Lysol! They sprayed Lysol on my beans, Zen!”
    “Paw, nobody sprayed Lysol on your beans,” Zenith muttered, crossing his arms. “Why are