Scrap

This is a story about destiny.

 

”Do you believe in destiny?” Paulie asked as he turned the steering wheel of the garbage truck and drove into Carrington W. St.

“I believe in a lot of things”, Hank answered dismissively.

Paule pretended he hadn’t heard his friend’s notably dispassionate response. “I believe every man has a part in a greater plan, waiting to unfold.

“Yeah?” Hank said in a mocking tone and turned to him, “so what’s my purpose?”

“I don’t know…” he said and looked at his friend smiling. “I’m not bullshitting, Hank. At least give it a thought”, he said as the approach the first house.

“Collecting trash, that’s my purpose. Even if God personally picked me to fight his Armageddon… hell, I’d pass.”

“I’m not talking about fighting”, he said as they stopped and he pulled the handbrake. “I’m talking about something beyond that.”

He could see that Hank was struggling to keep a straight face. “So what’s my purpose then?”

“You throw the trash”, Paulie answered and they both started laughing.

Their next garbage bag was full of holes and a swarm of flies circled above.  

“I believe it’s you turn”, he said to Hank who gave him a smirk before he got out and grabbed the bag. “Watch the holes, this is a family area, might be filled with diapers or dog poop.” He called after him as Hank walked to the back of the truck to throw the bag. The machinery in the back started to rumble as the garbage bag disappeared among the others. Paulie were still smiling as Hank quietly climbed up to his seat. They drove up to the next house and the procedure was repeated; only now Paule picked up the bag and Hank was the bully. As they left the street behind and ventured the next Hank broke the silent moment with something Paulie surely didn’t expect. “What do you think my purpose in life is? I mean I throw garbage, not really a great contributor to the lord.”

“Why not? Somebody’s got to do it. But who knows, maybe you’re destined for something else, maybe you’ll never know.”

“So you don’t think we make our own decisions?”

“I think that’s an illusion, but what do I know. I’m just a garbage man.”

As they drove up to a ramshackle house Hank laughed. “Well, then I hope destiny told you to pick that filthy bag up over there, because it’s your turn and I ain’t touchin’ it.”

It was too torn to even be called a bag and most of its content had been spilled on the street.

“God, no! I ain’t picking that up!”

“You have to, one more complaint and you’re sacked, remember?” Hank said, who seemed to enjoy every moment of the situation.

“Armageddon, rather than this”, Paulie muttered as he climbed down the truck and walked up to the fly infested bag. He grimaced as he tried to shove the spilled garbage back with his foot. Inside the truck Hank was thriving, occasionally yelling to his friend to hurry up. As Paulie shoved aside a soaked TV-guide paper he saw something glimmering. He hunched down and picked up a large golden medallion hanging in a thick golden chain. With the sleeve of his already filthy overall he wiped the medallion and held it up to his smiling friend. The passenger door swung open and Hank leaned out. “I don’t believe it, you lucky son of a b***h! Get over here, let me see it!”

 

After a few bites from Hank, they were assured that it was solid gold. “Man, feel the weight of it, must be worth a fortune!” Hank said as he gave it back to Frankie – who now was sitting in the passenger seat. “Why don’t these things happen to me?” Hank said and hit the steering wheel lightly.

“Maybe it’s destiny.” Frankie said and smiled as he too weighed it in has hand. “Wonder what nut-job threw that away…”

“Yeah… well try it on, feel its weight around your neck.” Hank said and watched as Frankie put the medallion on.

“It’s heavy.”

“I bet… you better tuck that thing in. Who knows, even garbage men might get mugged.”

Frankie smiled and tucked the medallion underneath his shirt. “Wah… it’s cold as ice”, he said and looked down at his chest were he could see its large contour bulging out. For a moment he felt dizzy and his vision blurred. As his vision cleared he saw that the road in front of him started to glow.

“Better get going. The last stop’s ahead and we need to be back at the station within the hour.” Hank said, who hadn’t noticed a change. He pulled out and continued along the glowing road. When the glowing road stopped, so did he. “Guess it’s my turn now… wish me luck”, he said as he climbed out and picked the garbage bag up. After a few squeezes and rotations of the bag he gave Frankie a disappointed look. “Nah, nothing here”, he said and went to throw the bag in the back. Once again the road started to glow. Startled by the sight, Frankie opened the door and jumped out. It was glowing from the road under the truck too, but he couldn’t see any traces of it from the road behind the truck, where it most certainly had glowed just a few minutes prior.

“Are you okay buddy?” Hank said, who had returned to the truck, only to see him hunched down on the other side. The glowing from under the truck began to die out as new emerged further down the road. To Hank’s relief Frankie rose to his feet. “Scared me there for a while, buddy. Hop in, we’re already late and I’m sure you’ll feel better on the soft seats instead of out here.”

Hank helped him in and they left the last stop in a hurry. Frankie could still see the glow further ahead, and Hank drove as if they were chasing it.

“D-Do you see it too?” Frankie said and watched as Hank turned to him, slightly puzzled.

“See what?”

“The glowing road.” He could see the worry reflect in Hank’s eyes when he uttered the words.

“Hang in there buddy”, he said and Frankie felt his body being pressed against the seat as they picked up speed.

They turned from their regular route and Frankie saw the glowing road disappear down the street. “It’s gone.”

“What?” Hank said and glanced at him as the garbage truck accelerated along the empty road.

“LOOK OUT!” he screamed as a blue sedan pulled out from an indoor parking lot.

Hank tried to turn but to no avail. The garbage truck crashed in to the sedan and sent it flying as if it was a mere toy.

 

As Frankie regained consciousness and his vision was slowly was coming back he saw Hank run out of the truck towards the demolished car. He could see blood on the dashboard and ran his fingers across his forehead – they came back red. He staggered out of the damaged truck and began to make his way towards Hank. People were running and yelling towards the sedan and he stopped as someone laid a hand on his shoulder. The man was speaking to him but he couldn’t make out a word, suddenly his vision started to blur again and he felt himself being caught by the man – and everything went black.

 

A beeping sound woke him up. He tried to open his eyes but the brightness of the room kept him from doing so. Someone was there; he could hear muffled voices and felt a hand on his forehead. The beeping grew in strength and as he squinted he could see a blurry female standing next to him. “Mona?”

“I’m here, baby” said a voice from behind. The lady standing next to him leaned in so he could make out her face. She had blue eyes and short brown hair – clearly not Mona.

“Do you know where you are Mr Callaveo?” she said in a soft voice.

He tried to turn his head, but stopped as pain surged through his body.

“Easy now, you’re at Saint Ann’s hospital. You’ve been in an accident.”

When he didn’t respond, she turned and said a few words that he didn’t catch before she left the room. He closed his eyes again and drifted away.

 

When he woke again he could open his eyes further. To his right he could see the beeping device, it was a heart monitor – monitoring his pulse and alerting the doctors if it would drop. At least that was what he thought it did. It had a bunch of wires that seemed to be attached to his body somewhere, but he couldn’t raise his head to see where.

“He’s awake doctor!” Someone called, it sounded as Mona, and surely enough he could see her face seconds later as she walked up to him.

“Welcome back, baby”, she said with tears in her eyes. He wanted to comfort her but the slightest movement brought a hail of pain.

No words uttered his mouth as he struggled to speak, he tried again.

“Hey baby.” His voice was so weak that he first didn’t recognize it as his own.

She shushed him and kissed him on the forehead. “Don’t speak, baby. Save your strength and let me do the talking.” She fell quiet for a time. “You were in a very bad condition when they first brought you here, and for several weeks it stayed critical.” She swallowed hard and continued “But I knew you would come back, baby. I told them you were a fighter and a very stubborn husband and I knew you wouldn’t leave me.” She smiled and kissed his forehead again as he could feel her tears land on his face. “And you didn’t.”

“Wha-What...” he began but was stopped as she laid a finger on his lips.

“Try and rest some more, baby, don’t rush it. I don’t think your stubbornness will heal your bones quicker”, she said and closed the white curtains that hung around the bed.

He closed his eyes but shards of memory over what had happened kept circulating in his head. What had happened to the owner of the sedan? ...and what had happened to Hank? He wanted to forget.

 

Weeks turned into months as he slowly healed, at least on the outside. He had learned that Hank was dead after seven hours of suffering in the intensive care. The mother and daughter driving the sedan had died instantly. Mona still showed up every day and tried to talk to him, but her tries were in vain. He was a dead man, left to live and he hated it. Some pieces of his memory of the accident were still missing; the doctors called it self imposed memory loss – absurd, if he could remember, he would!

 

He had been able to walk without crutches today, the nurses, doctors and even Mona had applauded with the hint of a tear in her eye. He yearned for the day when he could be rid of them, to be left alone. Mona had frequently asked him about a large gold medallion that he had had around his neck as he was brought in, he didn’t know what she was talking about. Gold wasn’t his taste anyway; he preferred silver – made you look less as those hip-hop rappers he had seen on TV.

 

After eight months and two weeks exactly he was done with the hospital. The nurses and doctor pretended that they would miss him as he left the hospital. Mona wasn’t around anymore, she had moved out of the house shortly after he had managed to walk without crutches. He didn’t blame her. She had come to the hospital and told him, seemingly hoping that he would ask her to stay – he hadn’t said anything. He didn’t want to feel loved, not after what happened. As he left the hospital and was about to grab a cab home he changed his mind and decided to take a walk instead. It had been a long time since he had been outside to breathe the relatively fresh air of the city. He kept away from the larger streets as much as possible and took a detour if the choice were given. When he was walking back through a somewhat familiar housing area he saw that the households all had new shining outdoor garbage cans standing next to their drive way. He tucked his hand inside his pocket and threw a small parcel wrapped in paper inside one of the garbage can. He heard a thump as the thing landed among the rest of the garbage. You’ve caused enough misery as it is, he thought to himself and continued along the road.

 

Reviews

[Kasey Jones]

Very dramatic ending. You found a good balance between not enough detail and too much detail. This has a good amount of description and great character development.