Burning Garbage Read online

  Since I guessed he liked ta read, I decided ta give ‘im some old books I had that my mum gave me some years back. I didn’t want ‘em anymore. I gave ‘im “The Life Cycle Library.” Ha! It was a joke. Anyways, I thought it was funny. Mum had me read ‘em so she wouldn’t have ta talk about it. That’s the kinda stuff you don’t talk about in polite company, you know. She just tossed ‘em at me one day an’ she says, “Read these, maybe you’ll learn somethin’.” You know them old books are enough ta put anybody ta sleep.

  I thought maybe if he read ‘em he’d go ta sleep. I kinda wished he’d go ta sleep. Sometimes he made alot a noise, but I didn’t really understand what he was talkin’ ‘bout mosta the time. Askin’ me stuff I don’t know the answers to. He bothered me sometimes, you know?

  An’ one time he brought out a cookie tray with noses on it! Can you imagine that! I didn’t know what ta say. But I try not ta ask too many questions; it’s easier that way, you know. Anyways, he said they was fon-dant noses an’ he was makin’ a big ol’ cake that looked like a face an’ wanted ta know what nose would be best. I thought it was kinda creepy seein’ all them noses laid out like that, but I chose a nose for ‘im. Ha! That’s funny! “Chose a nose!”

  But that time I got ta look in the room again. It didn’t seem as white as it was before, more like shadowy, I guess, an’ there was more boxes an’ a broken table with just three legs an’ some other stuff in there—like a weavin’ loom. Just a little plastic toy one, but I knew it was a weavin’ loom or somethin’ like that. I saw an old Hi-Fi too—you know, one a them with a eight-track player an’ a turn-table in it. That made sense ta me—some a them old records are so scratchy they’re just plain noisy.

  There was a bright pink jacket, too. It was kinda pretty. I don’t know what he wanted with a bright pink jacket. I kinda wish he’d a given that to me instead a the magnifyin’ glasses. At least I coulda used a jacket. I woulda looked real nice wearin’ it, you know?

  But even if he was really strange an’ talked alot but didn’t say much, there was sometimes when he talked he did make a little sense. Sort-of. Like once he talked about dip. You know, chip dip. How to dip right, don’t double dip, don’t dip just one time on a chip ‘cause then you got a chip with only a little dip, but if you hold the chip in the middle an’ dip each end you get twice as much dip an’ you’re not double dippin’ ‘cause that’s rude. It sorta makes sense, you know?

  Once he did make me mad though ‘cause he told me I’m too fat. Too much dip I guess. But I thought that was rude. I never told ‘im his sox was funny or that he talked too much but hardly ever says somethin’. He told me I should exercise. I never saw no good stuff for exercisin’ in that room. I know you can’t ride a two-wheeled bike that only gots one wheel.

  An’ I can’t figure out how he got that canoe through the door. It was piled up with clothes an’ pillows an’ blankets an’ stuff. Maybe he slept in it. That makes sense since it had a hole in it—ain’t much good for floatin’ if ya ask me. Anyways, it was gettin’ crowded in there, you know? I told him that, but I don’t think he heard me, he was makin’ too much noise. It was a scratchy kind a noise. It was startin’ ta bother me.

  So I gave ‘im summore books, I thought maybe he’d read ‘em an’ be quiet. I like books, you know. They look nice. I like to look at the covers of ‘em. You know you can get ‘em at yard sales for a dime or even a dollar? Maybe that’s where all the stuff in that room came from. Maybe he just liked ta collect stuff from yard sales. I dunno, maybe he wanted to have a yard sale, maybe that’s it. I told ‘im he better not sell any a my books. Except maybe “The Life Cycle Library.” But I don’t think he heard me.

  An’ like I said the noise was gettin’ ta me. He was so loud it made my head hurt, but I still don’t know what he was sayin’ half the time. I did hear ‘im say I was stupid. That was rude an’ it bothered me. I never did nothin’ ta him. Just listened to his noise an’ let him fill up that room with all his baggage. I called it baggage, you know ‘cause some a his junk was in suitcases. One popped open an’ a bunch a old mail fell out an’ slid down a folded up table like a avalanche. But when I first saw them suitcases I was kinda hopin’ he was plannin’ ta leave.

  He didn’t leave then. So ta drown out the noise, I kept a fan runnin’. I guess that showed ‘im. He tried harder ta bother me, you know, so I tried harder ta ignore ‘im. He stomped around alot. I couldn’t see ‘im, but I sure could hear ‘im, even over the sound a the fan. An’ the hollerin’ was gettin’ ta me. He was screamin’ an’ carryin’ on like a spoiled little child, can you imagine that? I heard ‘im swear some, too, an’ that bothered me.

  So the next time I saw ‘im outside the room, I threw a bar of Ivory soap at ‘im! Ha! I thought that was funny. Anyways, it made me feel better. I was aimin’ for his mouth, but instead I hit ‘im square in the nose! It dented in like it was one a them fon-dant cookie-tray-noses. I thought that was kinda creepy. It made me wonder some about ‘im, you know?

  Then the last time I came by the room, he wasn’t there an’ that door was open! It was never open all by itself before. So this time, I went in. It was my room, after all. I couldn’t believe all the stuff in there! It was like a whole landscape a this’ an’ that’s. An’ it was hot an’ the smell was terrible. I guess all that cake went bad or somethin’. The picture he was paintin’ the first time I saw ‘im was in there. It was the strangest thing. It was a paintin’ a him an’ it looked like the eyes was watchin’ me. It was kinda creepy.

  I saw a window at the end a the room, way over on the other side. I guess it really wasn’t that far, you know, it just seemed like that ‘cause a all the detritus in the way. I learned that word from the British ladies on the TV, can you imagine that? That’s a good word. Anyways, it was hard, but I pushed through all that baggage an’ them boxes an’ suitcases an’ broken stuff an’ all that other junk an’ climbed up a empty bookcase like a ladder an’ stepped on a old square TV set just soes I could reach that window for some fresh air ‘cause that smell was so bad, you know?

  Once I got there I heard this funny scrumblin’ noise so I turned to look, you know ‘cause it was a funny noise. An’ would you believe he crawled outta that paintin’ an’ inta that room! Can you imagine that! An’ boy was he mad! I told ‘im the place was a dump an’ it needed cleaned up. I told ‘im I was gonna start throwin’ stuff outta the window! He really started yellin’ then. An’ swearin’. But I didn’t have a bar a soap on me that time. An’ then he came chargin’ at me like one a them rhinoceroses you see on the TV on Animal Planet. That made me nervous ‘cept there was so much detritus in the way he couldn’t go very fast, you know.

  Anyways, I was really sweatin’ by then, an’ in a hurry. Still, it took a bit to open that window ‘cause it was stuck, you know, but I got it loosed. You know what’s funny? When I cracked that window open, it made a noise like the noise a can makes when you stick a can opener in it, like “pshshhh,” an’ I felt a little bit of a breeze a fresh air, an’ all a sudden it was real quiet. An’ then, can you believe it? When the window was opened all the way, I turned around an’ him and all his stuff was gone! The room was empty and all clean and pure again! Can you imagine that!

  In the Bag

  The car swerved off the road, went up the bank and hit a tree. The air bag exploded and swallowed her face. A split second later she sat stunned, gasping, her hands in a death grip on the steering wheel. A Jeep that was traveling behind her pulled over.

  A man knocked on her window. “Lady, you okay?” She turned and looked out the window at the man, then straight ahead at the crumpled hood of her car. He knocked again, insistently. “Lady!” She turned again and looked at him. A police car pulled up beside them, as pulsating lights flashed in the distance.

  The Jeep driver pulled open her door as a police officer approached, shining a flashlight at the car. “Officer,” the man stated, “She was swerving all over the road before she crashed--I think she’s drunk
.” The woman stepped out of the car with the man’s assistance.

  “Where’re my glasses?” Her voice wavered.

  The officer nodded at the driver of the Jeep then turned to the woman. “Ma’am, have you consumed any alcohol?”

  The woman was leaning against her ruined car, shaken, but unhurt. “No sir, I don’t drink.”

  He shined the flashlight in her face. “You were driving erratically, Ma’am.”

  The woman brushed a shaking hand down the front of her sweater then shaded her eyes and looked at the officer. “I’m sorry Officer, but really, I don’t drink! I was just trying to get the last of the Cheetos out of the bag!”

  Sugar Daddy

  “Listen! This is hilarious! Wait till you hear what she did!”

  “What who did?”

  “Mom! It was so funny!”

  “What’d she do?”

  “Well, Dad put salt on his onion and mashed potatoes.”

  “How exciting. What’d Mom do?”

  “Shut up. I’m not done. Anyway, he tasted his onion and said the onion was really sweet.”

  “I don’t like onions.”

  “I’m still not done. Then he tasted his potatoes.”

  “So?”

  “He said the potatoes were sweet, too, then put more salt on the onion and tasted it again.”

  “Yeah, so everybody puts salt on their food. Give him a prize.”

  “I’m still not done. He told Mom the onion was too sweet. She tasted hers and said it was fine, then she tasted his and made a funny face.”

  “Would you just get to the point?”

  “She picked up the salt shaker and put some on her palm and tasted it!”

  “Whoopee.”

  “Knock it off. Anyway, it wasn’t salt in the saltshaker, it was sugar! When she filled the shaker she took sugar from the sugar canister instead of salt from the salt canister! It was hilarious!”

  “Did she do it on purpose?”

  “No! It was accidental! That’s what’s so funny about it!”

  “Hmmm . . .

  “Come on! It was funny!”

  “If you say so.”

  “Well, I guess you had to be there.”

  23

  “Hurry up, Marian, we’re running out of time!” Agnes stood to the left of Marian and brushed imaginary bits of lint from her gray dress slacks. She put her hands in the pockets of her white lab coat, tapped her foot on the tile floor, and watched impatiently as Marian worked, but didn’t offer to help in spite of what was at stake.

  Marian was aware of Agnes’ impatience, yet continued slowly and deliberately to place the specimen samples carefully within each individual test tube. The slightest mistake and all their months of research would literally go down the tubes.

  “Don’t bungle it this time!” Agnes snarled as she stood slightly behind Marian and watched over her shoulder as the glistening deep garnet droplets splashed in the tiny, glittering glass tubes.

  “As I recall, it was you who contaminated the samples.” Marian said as she dipped the pipette into the sterile beaker. She continued to move slowly and methodically, successfully keeping her irritation under control. “Maybe things would move along faster if you would do more work and less griping.” Her voice was calm. “And stop watching over my shoulder,” she said as the precious sample specimens dripped from the pipette into the test tubes.

  Agnes' face reddened as she stepped away. She linked her hands behind her back and anxiously paced the room as she stared out the windows that ran the length of the wall. The misty rain and heavy sky had turned the world gray. She pulled the blind down over the window as a pale ray of sunlight pierced through the cloud cover. Silently she reasoned, “The contamination was out of my control. It wasn’t my fault I was thirsty.” She turned and glowered at Marian.

  Marian was poised at mid-drip when there was a sharp impatient knock at the lab door as it slowly creaked open. Dr. Johnson stood in the doorway, a haggard and unkempt look about him. “Stop your work Ladies,” he said, a tinge of exhaustion his voice. He ran his hand over his messy hair as a deep ragged breath escaped his lungs. “I’m so sorry, I’m afraid we’re too late.” He looked down at the floor and mopped his brow with a handkerchief, then looked at the two women.

  Marian took note of the trembling of his hands, the piece of white paper he held quivering like a live thing. A chill ran down her spine. She dreaded the words she knew she would hear. Agnes crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at Dr. Johnson. With another deep breath he said, “Colameister and Associates have just announced they’ve discovered the 23 secret flavors in Dr. Pepper.”

  A Calming Hope

  She has been here before. The expansive auditorium was crowded, and she was cold. She could feel rather than see that there were people milling around her. The light was dim, and the woman couldn’t tell how many people were there, or if she knew any of them. From the little she could see of the auditorium, she could tell it was luxurious. The seating and draperies were of crimson velvet, and the wooden trim was intricately carved and covered in gold leaf.

  She felt confused, disorientated, and very unhappy, while the man at her side seemed very excited and sure of himself. She noticed he wasn’t much taller than she, thin to the point of being skinny, with dark blond hair and watery blue eyes.

  A slim woman in a red evening dress came up to her and grabbed her arm. “I hear congratulations are in order! I heard about the wedding!” Her voice was unnecessarily loud and brassy, and seemed to echo slightly. It grated on the woman’s nerves, and she pulled her arm away and stepped back. The skinny blue-eyed man conversed with the brassy-voiced woman for some time, but she couldn’t seem to follow their conversation, nor did she care to.

  A dim unfamiliar figure guided her by the arm to sit in one of the auditorium seats next to the short skinny man. She didn’t want to be there. She felt very uncomfortable and out-of-place, and the skinny blue-eyed man made her skin crawl. In her thoughts, she kept seeing a face very different from the one beside her. The picture in her mind was of a tall man with wavy black hair, firm lips, and changing eyes. The thought of the dark-haired man filled her with a calming hope.

  The loud voices of the people around her reminded her where she was. They seemed to close in on her. The confusion she was feeling as to why she was there increased, along with the awareness that something was definitely wrong.

  She wondered, “Is this the wedding they were talking about?” She still couldn’t distinguish the faces of the people surrounding her well enough to recognize anyone. They were just a whirling blur of dull colors and dim light. “An auditorium is hardly the place to hold a wedding,” she thought. She carefully focused on the confusing conversation, trying to comprehend why she was there and what was going on.

  Slowly, she came to the realization that the wedding the shadowy crowd was discussing was hers, and the groom was to be the skinny man beside her. The thought made her want to vomit. With growing alarm, she wondered again why, and how she got there.

  The blurred faces of the people in the crowded auditorium and the suffocating clamor accompanying them began to overwhelm her. She didn’t understand the animosity she held towards the blond man, but felt it was very real. Again, she pictured the face of the dark-haired man in her mind, and she felt anger about her circumstances and with it came a surge of power. “I do not want to be here, and I have no intention of marrying that person,” she thought.

  With a firm conviction in her heart, she closed her eyes and focused on the face that filled her with hope. The clamoring din of the velvety auditorium began to weaken. She slowly opened her eyes to see warm dim light streaming through a bay window. Through the wavy glass, she could see a table and two chairs. She climbed the steps up onto a small porch, approached a heavy wooden door, opened it, and went into a small apartment.

  She has been here before. The floors were of a light-colored wood, worn softly with age. The familiar pattern of the fad
ed honey-colored wallpaper was pleasing to her eye. The place was simply furnished with a plush burgundy sofa and chair. The room felt warm and comfortable to her after the noisy auditorium, the memory of which was beginning to fade from her mind.

  She could hear rain falling softly and the faint strains of music. She looked down as a chubby marmalade cat glided around her ankles, tickling her skin. She turned towards the small round table in front of the window. The dark-haired man from her dreams sat there. He turned, smiled, and beaconed to her to join him. She went to the table and took the hand he offered as she sat down across from him on a worn wooden chair. Happiness filled her as the memory of her nightmare faded completely.

  Doofus Duo

  “Dude, it‘s really dark.”

  “Yep.”

  “Maybe a flashlight would a been good.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “How we gonna find our way out?”

  “Dunno.”

  “Yer ‘posed ta be the smart one, you should a ‘membered ta bring a flashlight.”

  “Right.”

  “Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t of shot out all the streetlights.”

  # # #

  Thank you for taking the time to read "Burning Garbage."

  If you enjoyed it, please recommend it to your friends.

  Peace of Woods