Free The Waterproof Bible by Andrew Kaufman Page A

can only assume there’s been at least some harm to the contents of #207 as well.”
    Zimmer flipped his keys into his palm. He put the ring back in his front pocket.
    “Okay,” Rebecca said.
    Her second set of keys was already in her hand. She unlocked the padlock, the sound echoing through the hallway. She opened the door of unit #207, and the smell of wet cardboard hit her immediately. She turned on the single bank of overhead florescent lights. The stainstarted in the middle of the ceiling and flowed to the back left corner. A drop of water was forming at the end of the stain. Zimmer stepped inside the storage space and put his hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. Together they looked up, watching the drop become larger and larger. They watched it splash on the top box of the tallest stack in the back row.
    “I’ll give you some time alone,” Zimmer said.
    “Thank you.”
    Rebecca listened to Zimmer’s footsteps recede down the hallway. When she was no longer able to hear them, Rebecca began to move boxes, although she did not work towards the water-damaged stack.
    Of the hundreds of boxes in unit #207, only eight were not labelled with someone’s name. These were all in one stack located in the right-hand corner at the front of the room. The box on top was labelled BIRTHDAYS . The one below that was labelled SEX . The next five were marked FEARS, CRUSHES, FUTURE PLANS, BODY and CHILDHOOD , respectively. The box at the bottom, the largest box in unit #207, read FAILURES .
    Stretching her arms over her head, Rebecca grabbed the bottom of the top box in the stack and slid it forward until she could lift it off the stack. She set it on the floor, then removed the boxes marked SEX, FEARS, CRUSHES, FUTURE PLANS, BODY and CHILDHOOD , leaving the box marked FAILURES standing by itself. Picking it up by the edges, Rebecca tipped it sideways, spilling the contents onto the floor. She pushed through the objects with her toe until she uncovered a ring of keys. These keys had belonged Stewart. She carefully picked them up and held them in her hand. She closed her eyes.

    She stood by the sink in the kitchen of the house she’d shared with Stewart. In her right hand, she held a kettle, which she was filling with water. She hadn’t gotten dressed yet. The phone rang and Rebecca answered it, keeping the kettle in her hand and cradling the telephone with her shoulder.
    “Hello?”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Stewart?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Where are you?”
    “It doesn’t matter.”
    “Where are you?”
    “I’m on my cellphone.”
    “Where?”
    “The bathroom,” Stewart replied. “Upstairs.”
    Rebecca turned back to the sink and shut off the faucet. She walked through the living room and looked up the staircase. She did not attempt to go up, but continued to hold the kettle in her hand.
    “I have to leave,” Stewart said.
    “You’ve said that.”
    “I do.”
    “I know.”
    “You work so hard to keep your true feelings from me. Do you know how that feels?”
    Rebecca walked back into the kitchen and set the kettle on the stove but didn’t turn on the element. She pushed the phone closer to her ear.
    “Every single failure you’ve ever had is still with you,” Stewart said.
    “Aren’t yours?”
    “No. I have to leave.”
    “Now?”
    “Can you go out for a bit?” Stewart asked.
    “How long do you need?”
    “An hour,” he said.
    Rebecca went out for forty-five minutes. When she came back, Stewart’s clothes were gone. So were his toothbrush and deodorant and razor. There was no note, although his keys were set precisely in the middle of the kitchen table.
    Sitting in the armchair in the living room, her coat still on, Rebecca twirled Stewart’s keys in a circle around her index finger. She watched the room get darker and darker. When she finally reached out to turn on a lamp, she changed her mind and went to the door instead. Keeping his keys in her hand, Rebecca drove to E.Z. Self Storage, walked directly to