Made of Steel

In the early 20th century, the land in Cromwell began as a dusty plain of dirt with small wooden shacks. Humble inhabitants raised their families on the land and grew crops to sustain themselves and their community. Eventually, their rudimentary labor turned into a thriving hustle. An influx of families moved to Cromwell and skilled laborers from other cities established key infrastructure such as subdivisions, hospitals, and grocery stores. Despite so much advancement in Cromwell, an unprecedented development was underway to revolutionize its history forever. It was a hot, blistering day in June of 2025. I was driving down Cromwell Industries to meet my friend, Davis, at his house after his month-long vacation. On the route, a traffic jam prompted me to take a circuitous route. I ended up near a boisterous construction site where machinery roamed about a pile of dirt. I discovered an enormous foundation of steel and rebar that spanned several acres. Eventually, the noise subsided as I reached Davis' house.  

“Hey Davis,” I uttered out the car window.

"Awhooo, a heee heee,” Davis sang, unaware of my greeting.

I yelled out the car window, "Davis!”

Davis jumped, “Ah”

He shouted, “Hey Correl, what's up!”

Davis danced down the staircase and walked toward the end of the street with a trash bag. 

“Poof!” he tossed the bag in the garbage and approached me.

I stated, "Your vacation seems like it was relaxing, I've never seen you so vibrant!"

"The vacation was cool but I am happy about moving into my new crib!" he expressed.

I inquired, "You're moving! To where?"

Davis walked me to the front of his small apartment and opened the door. The interior was nearly empty as he packed all his belongings, and stored them near the door. I walked to the kitchen and saw a bright gold pamphlet on the island. An embossed title read "The Grand Opening of the Cromwell Luxe Apartments." Davis followed behind me, picked up the pamphlet, and began to show it.

Davis revealed, “I am moving into the Cromwell apartments."

"Look!” he pointed to one of the apartment floorplans. This place has 2,000 sq ft of living space!”

I exclaimed, “Really! That's a lot of space!” 

He continued, “Yeah, and look!” he turned the pamphlet towards me, “It also has a pool and a bar!”

I took a can of soda from the fridge and opened it, “So when are you moving in?

“I should be moving in in four weeks. The building will be completed by then and there will be a ribbon-cutting ceremony,” he responded.

Davis and I continued to discuss the apartment and several other topics until nighttime. I left his efficiency with some of his unwanted items and went home.

Eventually, July rolled in, casting a vibrant sunshine over Cromwell. It was time for Davis' long-anticipated move into the CLA. I pumped the AC in my car and rushed to Cromwell Industries to meet Davis at the grand apartment ceremony. Unsurprisingly, a gridlock of impatient vehicles spanned down the road. Ahead of the traffic, a traffic conductor motioned drivers in every direction before the jam began to break up. Eventually, I entered the CLA apartment parking lot and approached a crowd of tenants and community members standing before the building. Three distinguished gentlemen in blue suits stood in front of a long ribbon that spanned the front of the apartment. The men stood shoulder to shoulder while a cameraman took a picture of them smiling. After the cameraman took several shots, a man from the group approached the podium. 

He announced, “Hello everyone, I am Ryan Crostwell the proprietor of CLA. I am elated to introduce the Cromwell Luxe Apartments! This complex is the first apartment building in Cromwell. In addition, it is all made out of steel imported from Hilo Hawaii. Our tenants will have spacious living areas, high-tech security, endless amenities, secure wifi, and ultra-modern interior and exterior architecture. Here you will not only live but feel alive!”

“Wahoo!” the crowd roared.

The man continued, “So now, without further ado, I reveal the incomparable, the elegant, the magnificent Cromwell Luxe Apartments.”

The men cut the ribbon in half and watched it dwindle to the jet-black pavement. The crowd cheered and clapped and briefly talked amongst themselves. Eventually, event management ushered the crowd to the entertainment center next to the apartment for a performance and a light lunch. After the event, Davis and I met outside as the people dispersed to their apartments for the first time.

Davis giggled, “That was a nice event!"

I responded, "Yes, it was great! This place spares no expense on events."

Unexpectedly, an old female friend of Davis approached him for a conversation. The two became engaged in catching up, so Davis gave me his key and told me to open his apartment for the movers. I took the key and made my way inside the lobby. When I cleared the threshold, a sprawling cathedral ceiling greeted me along with sparkling marble floors. Opulent chandeliers dangled from the ceilings, casting white light on the crystal clear tabletops with ornate decorations. Eventually, I reached the double staircase, where a glass railing wrapped twenty stories. I slowly walked the stairs, observing the surroundings until I reached Davis’ apartment on the 5th floor. I placed the electronic key near the reader on the door and walked in. I walked across the hardwood floor and admired the immaculate apartment. Soon, I glanced outside of the balcony door. A group of men and women dressed in gold emerged from a steel-constructed catering building, grabbing hand-crafted baskets from the tables. While the group sprawled from the building, they suddenly stopped and placed the baskets on the ground. They fixated on their hands, dusting off what appeared to be a residue towards the ground. Suddenly, a U-haul truck rolled through the iron security gates outside. I ran out of the apartment and downstairs to the facade of the building. Two husky movers emerged from the U-Haul and began to prepare Davis’ things on the dollies for transport. As they stacked and positioned his belongings, Davis emerged from the entertainment center and began to talk with me.

“Hey man, how did you like the apartment? he asked me.

I expressed, “Oh, it's stunning, it looks even better in person!” 

My stomach growled while I proceeded to talk with Davis, “Man I am still hungry. I'm about to get a meal at munchies real quick. Do you want anything?"

Davis responded, "No thanks! I'll be here to guide the movers."

I hopped in my car and sped off to Munchies thirty minutes from the CLA. I briskly walked into the restaurant where a greeter led me to a table near the back. Eventually, a flamboyant female waitress strutted down the aisle and took my order for a hot basket of chicken, some mashed potatoes, and a glass of water. After my food arrived, two contractors walked into the restaurant. One of the men was chubby and the other was slim. I perfunctorily looked at them as they sat four tables down, engaging in an intriguing conversation. Soon, I discovered that the men labored for CLA due to the gold emblem on their uniforms. The chatter and music in the restaurant obscured the conversation, however, I noticed one of the contractors' hands. His hands shook involuntarily, causing him to leave with his partner to the parking lot. Eventually, I redirected my attention and returned to finishing my food. Around 3:45 PM, I paid the waitress my tab and left a generous tip of twenty dollars. I proceeded to the parking lot and started my car when I saw the contractors standing against the wall smoking.

The chubby contractor complained, "Dam, my hands are infected with tetanus! I ain't fuckin with that rusty shit no more!"

The slim contractor agreed, "Me too, man!"

I drove from the parking lot thinking about the contractors' conversation until I arrived at the apartment building. I walked to the 5th floor and began to help Davis open his moving boxes and sort everything in their respective locations. Eventually, the apartment was unpacked and organized for Davis to enjoy by evening time. Davis and I sat at the counter reflecting on the long day. We decided to meet in the apartment bar tomorrow to get acquainted with the neighbors. The following day, I arrived at CLA around 10:00 AM. Davis among others walked from the building with a bag and hopped into their vehicles. I caught up with Davis before he approached his vehicle. 

“Beep!" I blew the horn, “What's going on?” I asked Davis.

He explained, “An emergency repair needed to be made, and all tenants must vacate until further notice.”

I exclaimed, “Really! Leave your car here and I'll take you back to my place!”

Davis jumped into my vehicle with his necessities. As the hours passed, Davis checked his phone for an update. He was usually content over my house, especially watching the Cromwell basketball games on my TV, however, he couldn't care less this time. Around midnight the next day, Davis received a call from the front desk that he could return to the building. Davis and I jumped from the couch and drove to the apartments. Davis got out and told me to arrive at 7:00 PM for our rendezvous in the apartment bar.

When 7 PM came, I was dressed in semi-casual attire and positioned at the bar entrance. I scanned the room to see that Davis had already made a male friend in the building. Davis introduced him as Flint Spades. He was a renowned party coordinator in the Cromwell area who planned elaborate events. While sitting at the bar, we had two shots of Berdillo and a small platter of Tostitos on the side. The erratic bartender was jamming to an old-school hip-hop song as he mixed the drinks of the attendees. He eventually ran out of drinks so he went to the stockroom to re-up. By the time the bartender approached the walk-in fridge, a loud crashing sound echoed. 

He screamed, “Ahhhhh! Somebody help me!”

Security rushed behind the bar and burst into the backroom to discover that the cooling system detached from a beam in the ceiling, breaking shards of beer glass on the bartender. Eventually, a medical team showed up and placed the bartender on a gurney to be rushed to Cromwell Medical. After such upheaval, the party concluded around 8 PM. The tenants returned to their units with their guests while some left the building to go home. Davis and I parted ways with Flint and went to Davis's apartment. We were so appalled by the incident that we harped about it for hours until the alcohol took effect. Eventually, I woke up on Davis's leather couch, whipping my dry eyes. Davis slept on the opposite couch with a vomit-soaked blanket wrinkled across his body. 

“Psttt, Davis, Davis!” I called across the living room.

Davis didn't budge. I stretched across the couch with my eyes pointed towards the ceiling, thinking about the dramatic incident at the bar. Around 11:00 PM, an incessant sound of footsteps scattered across the hallway outside of Davis’ apartment. I looked towards the door to see dark shadows disturbing the light in the hall underneath the door gap. I got up and opened the door to a crowd of neighbors entangled in deep conversation with one another. Their faces squinched with concern and uncertainty. Soon, a security guard approached and suggested everyone evacuate the premises immediately. The guard's tone was pleasant yet firm, however, I still didn't know the reason for evacuating. I turned from the crowd and hurried back into Davis' apartment to wake him up.

I shook his body, “Davis, get up! We have to leave now!”

He pleaded, “Ahhh, what! I'm still sick off of those drinks man, let me get some rest!”

I kicked the couch, “Get the hell up Davis, this ain't no time for fucking around!”

Just as I addressed Davis for the second time, the lights shut off and a loud series of bangs darted through the walls.

A woman began to yell, “Ahhhh! The beams are falling!” 

Davis stumbled from the couch and ran with me to the hallway. We bolted past frantic families and individuals, dodging the bangs of the beams that fell from the cracking ceilings. Eventually, we reached the double staircases where a collection of windows emitted an ear-piercing noise. The panes cracked as the rusty beams weighed on their fragile form. As the rust permeated the air, I linked it to the residue on the basket carriers' hands, the tetanus-riddled contractors, the emergency repair, and the bar incident. After briefly connecting the dots, the conditions in the building worsened. Immovable rubble accumulated near the staircases, forcing people to bash human-sized holes into the windows with random objects. They leaped from the holes and plummeted several stories onto the blacktop. Suddenly, Davis jerked his neck around, searching for an exit amidst the chaos. Eventually, he locked eyes with a vacant apartment, yanked me by the shirt, and bum-rushed through the apartment to the balcony.

The building shook, "Rumm, rummm, rummm!"

"Jump!" Davis yelled.

The double staircases outside the apartment unit caved in, leaving no point of return. I dove over the railing as a scathing breeze shot underneath my clothes as we descended five stories into oblivion. My vision faded, and a loud smack echoed as I crashed on top of a lawn chair, smashing it into numerous bits. Davis groaned and limped to pull me from the building. Davis' strength multiplied as the building tumbled, beam by beam, wall by wall until it piled into an egregious mess. After the collapse, the city stayed quiet in prayer for those who perished and recovered from the collapse. People found joy in admiring the original land and landmarks in Cromwell. Eventually, Ryan Crostwell recovered from his injuries and spoke on the incident. He stated that the beams were exposed to torrential rainfall in Hilo Hawaii. The importers were forced to abandon the city due to flood concerns and left their work behind to rust internally. When the workers returned to Hilo, they transported what appeared to be good beams on the outside to Cromwell. When the beams were placed in CLA, the rust corroded to the outside and caused them to weaken.