Jonah Havensby Read Online Free PDF

than pulling.  Once it was lined up, he took another break, sat down at his pack and drank water.
    Now came the hard part. He was going to have to push the thing up the ramp and hope it would stay on course in the front.
    He put his back against the dumpster and dug in with each backwards step. It wasn’t so hard. At first it seemed that the cement on the ramp was much smoother than the gravel, so the front of the dumpster moved easier. But as the dumpster hit the angle of the ramp, Jonah found he had to lock his legs in place to keep it from sliding down on top of him, but he found a rhythm that worked. One step, lock. One step, lock.
    The dumpster seemed to be getting heavier. Or he was getting more tired. Or both. But he couldn’t stop now. He was sure if he tried to move the thing would run him over, so he plowed on. He was sure if anyone came upon him now, they’d think he was nuts and instead of arresting him, they’d just send him off to an asylum.
    All of a sudden, it got much easier to push, and with just a few more rolls, he found that he was up and level at the docking bay doors. He shoved it against the wall and then sat down, drained and sweating. It was weird having a cold breeze bite at his face while he was sweating. He mopped his face with the front of his sweater and drank more water and then put the bottle back in his pack.
    Once it was in place he swung his pack up onto the dumpster and then his coat. The side-rail he had used to pull the dumpster into alignment with the ramp was his only way up, but it didn’t have room for his whole foot. He tried it twice, but he wasn’t quite able to balance when his toes were the only things on the rail. He tried mounting it sideways, but the momentum was wrong. He could get up, but then had to fall to the side or he’d fall right into the window, and there were too many shards of broken glass around to try that safely.
    He decided he’d have to use the straight on approach, but he’d have to try doing it in one continuous motion.  Toes on the rail, then lean forward, then try to scurry up on top.  He had a few false starts. A few times, he got up on the rail, misbalanced, and landed back on the cement. Once he got up, leaned forward, and hit the top of the dumpster too hard, knocking himself in the belly and falling off. The final try he counted to three, went up and over and his hands scrambled for something to hold on to.
    There were indentions carved into the plastic dumpster covers and his hands had finally made it into them. He hovered for one second. Finger tips pressed into the indention, toes barely holding on to the small ledge, then jumped up with his toes and pulled, squirmed and finally got one leg up on top.
    When he finally made it, he lay on top of the dumpster gasping for air.  He sat up, looked around, threw his arms in the air and yelled “Yes!” at the top of his lungs. Then quickly looked around to make sure no one was around. He was exactly even with the broken window now.
    He stood up and looked around inside one last time, then gently kicked the last few remnants of glass from the bottom of the window. They fell inside and Jonah could hear them smash on the floor. Fortunately, the noise wasn’t too loud. He picked up his coat and covered his hand with the sleeve and punched out some more remaining shards from the top.
    When he was confident there was no more danger of getting cut, he picked up his pack and dropped it inside, followed by his coat.  He bent over double inside the window and jumped down with the crunch of broken glass under his feet.
    He left the pack and coat where they were and went for a look around. He stayed a distance away from the front of the building, just in case.
    It was a large, open, concrete room with a few concrete pillars here and there. There were old newspapers on the floor with some assorted litter and odd machine parts lying around. They looked old and rusty. Here and there he saw chunks of