Savage Tales

of this dank vault.
    I returned to the house above, filled with terror and confusion.

CHEMICAL COUSINS

    At a café on Haight street. I'd been looking for a room for some time, when I found this:
    Room available October 1. Large Victorian near the Panhandle. Your bedroom is 12' x 12' and has a good street view. Other roommates are Sharon (an accountant), George (an IT guy), David (a law student), and Bill (has AIDS, but he's a riot!). Rent is $850/month. One year lease, $850 deposit. Call George to see it: 415-661-0298.
    I called the number and George said I could see it now if I got over there in the next twenty minutes.
    I hustled, and rang the doorbell when I arrived. A young Asian guy shook my hand. "Hi, I'm George," he said.
    "Adam," I said.
    "Come on in."
    He led me down the hall.
    "Are you a student?" he said.
    "No, I work online. Marketing and writing and other stuff."
    "Cool," he said. "Well, this is the room."
    I looked and it was draped with Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin posters.
    "Nice," I said.
    "You can go in. Take a look at the view. Steven is moving back to Canada at the end of the month but he knows we're showing the room. All his stuff is gonna be gone, unless you want to buy a futon."
    "Hmm."
    "Let me show you the rest of the house."
    It was clean, nice, with hardwood floors throughout and high ceilings.
    "Sharon and David aren't home now. If you're interested in the room I can have you meet them when we decide on someone."
    "How will you decide if I haven't met them?"
    "I'll decide."
    "Okay… I think I'm interested. I'm quiet, respectful, easygoing."
    "Sure, we'll give you a call soon. If you don't hear from us, we probably went with someone else. Feel free to call and check."
    "Okay. Say, didn't the ad say something about another roommate?"
    George coughed. "Another roommate?"
    "Yeah, a guy with AIDS."
    "Oh, yes, yes, of course. Bill."
    "Is he home?"
    "Yes, he's always home. I think he's sleeping though."
    "Oh. Okay. Well, I guess I can meet him if you guys decide I'm right."

    A few days later I was getting antsy and still hadn't found a place, so I called George back.
    "Right," he said. "We've all been so busy we haven't really been interviewing. Tell you what – come by tonight and you can sign the lease. I'm sure the others will be okay with it. If they're around you can meet 'em."
    "All… right."
    After dinner I went there and George took me to the dining room. Sharon was cooking dinner and I got to meet her. She seemed nice. David was out, so I couldn't meet him.
    "What about Bill?" I said. "Can I meet him?"
    "Oh… I think he may be sleeping," said George.
    "Sure is a sleepy guy," I said.
    George didn't even smile at my lame joke.
    "All right, let's do this," I said. I signed, happy to have my housing situation settled at last.

    The next week I moved in. I ended up purchasing the futon for $50 – overpriced, but saved me the hassle of delivering one.
    I settled in fast, and soon learned the routines of George, David, and Sharon, and they were each so busy with their work or school that we rarely saw each other. They were all extroverts out and about, and I was an introvert who worked through an internet connection.
    Bill I didn't see. I would sometimes hear a door creak open down the hall, but whenever I tried to synchronize my exits so that we could meet, I always met the closed door of the bathroom.
    Every day an older woman came by and went into Bill's room. I suppose she cleaned and fed him, since I never heard him use the shower or cook in the kitchen.

    Finally, after nearly a month of this invisible roommate scenario, I was coming out of the bathroom just as his door was opening.
    And there he was. Our eyes met.
    He was tall, nearly seven feet. Tall and thin. He had a gray beard and a worn face, and blue eyes that spoke of youth while every other sign on his body spoke of age and decrepitude. We stood there nearly two seconds without saying anything.
    "Who are you?" he said.
    "I'm Adam. I'm the... uh… new roommate."
    "New roommate?"
    "Yeah. Well, I've been here a month now. I replaced Steven."
    "Steven?"
    "Yeah."
    "Oh, okay."
    There didn't seem to be anything more to say, so I left him and tried to forget this lanky ghost of a man. I thought back to the Craigslist ad that had led me here: Bill has AIDS, but he's a riot!
    How strange.

    About a week later I heard the old woman arrive and go to Bill's room. A few minutes later I heard his bedroom door open and she said,