Hope For Garbage

by Tully, Alex

  She turned right toward the park, “You sure?”

  “Yeah,” The radio was playing an Imagine Dragons song. “Do you like them, Imagine Dragons?” he asked.

  “I guess. Probably not my first choice, but their songs are pretty good. Do you like them?”

  Trevor took his cell phone out of his sweatshirt pocket, “I know this is a ridiculously popular song, but there’s something about it.” He played the ‘Radioactive’ ringtone.

  While sticking the phone back in his pocket, he noticed a new text message waiting. He didn’t recognize the number and opened it up.

  It’s Evelyn. Will you please call this number? I really need to talk to you. Please.

  Trevor flipped the phone shut. What was that lady thinking? He couldn’t deal with Evelyn now. He had to concentrate on telling Bea the truth.

  Looking out his window, he admired the huge oak trees that lined the drive. This park was beautiful—plenty of green space and lots of winding paths. When the weather was nice, people walked their dogs, biked, and pushed their kids in strollers. Benches were lined up along the paths and old people fed the birds.

  But today the park was pretty empty. The rain had subsided, but the sky was still grey. There was a small parking lot at the end of the drive. It was edged with weeping willows on one side and a large pond on the other. Bea parked facing the pond.

  “Trevor I’m sorry. You really don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”

  “No, it’s okay, really. I mean I’m sure you’re wondering why I live with my white trash uncle.”

  Trevor took a deep breath and went on, “I was seven when my dad left. I guess he had a girlfriend or something. We never heard from him—he just kind of disappeared.”

  He looked out across the pond. There was an elderly couple sitting on a bench together. He wondered how long they had been together.

  “I don’t know much about him. He was an auto worker and I guess I looked like him, because my mom always used to say ‘You look just like your father’. Not in a good way though—like she was disgusted or something.”

  Bea reached over and grabbed his hand. It was a nice gesture, but it made him feel even more uncomfortable and he slowly pulled it away.

  “My mom changed our names back to McNulty—her maiden name. I used to be Trevor Anuskewiecz. After writing that one a few times in kindergarten, McNulty didn’t seem so bad. Anyway, mom said she was better off without my dad, but she wasn’t. At first, she just went out all the time—she was never home. Then, after a while, she did the exact opposite and started hiding out in her bedroom. She basically lived in there.”

  Trevor glanced over at Bea, unsure what to expect. She looked sad, but not surprised or appalled.

  He didn’t know if he could tell her anymore, “You know what? Maybe I should just stop telling you all this crap. It’s in the past.”

  “But… what happened to your mom?”

  Of course that was what she had been wondering the whole time. His eyelid twitched and he suddenly didn’t feel so hot. “Can we go get some air? Maybe walk around or something?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  With their hoods up, and hands in their pockets, they walked down the embankment to the edge of the pond. Sitting down on the grass, Trevor could feel the wetness through his jeans, but he didn’t care.

  “Then when I was thirteen…” his voice trailed off. The old couple across the pond got up from the bench. They walked up the path holding hands and smiling at each other like they were on a first date. He thought about Mr.T and Carol.

  “Trevor?”

  He couldn’t tell her everything—not now. “My mom…died.”

  He knew he probably sounded cold-hearted, but he was trying to keep his emotions in check. He didn’t want to lose it.

  “God, I’m sorry Trevor.”

  “I didn’t have anywhere to go so I lived in a children’s home for a few months. Then Uncle Gary figured out he could get some money from the state, if he took me in. That idiot is my only living relative. All of the other McNulty’s reside at Westwood Cemetery.” He threw another stone, feeling the anger stirring inside him. “Good old Uncle Gary—he’s the only one left.”

  Bea turned to face him. “And you.” She put her arms around him and pulled him close. “I’m so sorry Trevor.” The words were muffled against his shoulder.

  He looked out over the green water, “Yeah, me too.”

  “Hey! I just thought about something!” Her voice was suddenly cheerful, “I’ve got this family thing tomorrow night. Would you maybe want to come? I mean, it will probably be lame, but…”

  Trevor immediately thought of Evelyn. Mrs. Stewart may be more of a problem than he initially thought. “Would you be really mad if I took a rain check? I’ve got a ton of work to do in the Box tomorrow. My uncle’s been riding me pretty hard lately.”

  “Sure, it’s okay. No biggie, really.” He could hear the disappointment in Bea’s voice, but she wasn’t going to push it. She must’ve known how hard it was for him to open up about his mom.

  And, he was relieved that she seemed okay with his past. Of course, he had only told her the main points: his dad left and his mom died. And that was only a small part of a much bigger picture—a picture that was so horrible, it haunted him every day, and every night.

  CHAPTER 20

  The antique light fixture was probably valuable, and definitely fixable. That’s what Mr.T said anyway. Trevor examined the tarnished brass base under the lights of his workstation. Electrical wiring was not his specialty, and definitely not old electrical wiring. He started searching through his screwdriver drawer for a large Philips head. If he could get it fixed, maybe Uncle Gary could sell it off to someone, and get off his case for a while.

  Other than that pain in the ass, things were definitely looking up. Trevor really thought him and Bea might have a chance. After their talk in the park yesterday, she took him home and they kissed each other goodbye. Trevor invited her into the Box, but she said she had to get up really early. He didn’t know if she was blowing him off or not, but he was okay with taking things slow. The last thing he wanted to do was screw things up with Bea again.

  It was Saturday night and she was busy with the family thing, so he decided to hang out in the Box. Mr.T had taken Carol out to dinner. Those two were quite the item; Trevor was happy for him.

  He carefully unscrewed the bottom of the light fixture and looked at the web of old wires. Maybe he would just work on this tomorrow when Mr.T could help.

  Just then Jip started barking. He heard a car pulling into the gravel driveway. Maybe Uncle Gary decided he’d had enough of the Barley Tavern scene. That was doubtful though. It was only around eight, and he never came home before midnight on a Saturday.

  Trevor opened the door to the Box and peeked out. It was dark and he had to look twice—but there was no mistaking it. Parked in his driveway was a silver Mercedes. Shit.

  He closed the door quickly and stood with his back to the wall. He turned the dead bolt and tried to stay as quiet as possible. But when the car door slammed shut, Jip started barking again.

  “Quiet Jip!” He whispered in his harshest tone, but it was no use. With Jip’s barking and the lights shining inside the Box, she had to know he was in there.

  Trevor crouched down and almost crawled over to the tiny window. Very slowly he lifted his head and peeked out into the backyard.

  Like a ghost in the night, Evelyn Stewart, draped in white from head to toe, was coming toward the Box. As she got closer, Trevor’s mind started racing. He put his head in his hands. What was this lady’s problem?

  He stayed down on the floor and tried not to make a sound. Maybe she would just look around and leave…

  But as soon as the hopeful thought entered his mind, Evelyn started banging on the door. “Trevor! Are you in there?” Bang, bang, bang.

  She slurred her words, “Trevor, it’s me, Evelyn, will you please talk to me?” She sou
nded wasted.

  Trevor debated about what to do next. The sad thing was, she probably wasn’t going to leave unless he talked to her. Bang, bang, bang.

  “Alright!” He slowly opened the door.

  Evil Lyn stood there, wide-eyed, with a crazed smile on her face. Her hair was all messed up and she had black shit streaming down her cheeks once again. She could barely hold herself up, swaying from side to side. And she didn’t smell like roses. She smelled more like Uncle Gary after a hard night at the tavern. “Hello Trevor.” She fell forward into his arms.

  “Whoa!” He caught her just before she landed on her face. He grabbed under her arms and pulled her into the Box. “Evelyn, what are you doing here?” He sat her down on an old garden bench he had been working on.

  She could barely keep her head up, “I think I have a drinking problem Trevor. What do you think?” She began laughing hysterically.

  Jesus. Trevor looked down at Jip as if he might be able to help. “You know what Jip? In my next life, I want to come back as a dog. Not have to deal with all this bullshit.”

  Evelyn’s laughter immediately turned to tears, “I’m sorry… I came here. I’m sorry…,” she wailed between muffled sobs.

  He was at a loss and didn’t know what the hell to say. She was so drunk, she probably wouldn’t remember anything he said anyway. “Mrs. Stewart—I mean Evelyn,” he kneeled down to her level and tried to look her in the face, “You have to leave me alone, okay?”

  She lifted her head up slowly, looking at Trevor with glossy bloodshot eyes, “I just didn’t know where else to go. I can’t face anyone. You like me don’t you Trevor?”

  He reached over, took hold of her arm, and lifted her up by the elbow, “Nope, we’re not going through this again. I’m taking you home. You need to go lie down and sober up. I’ll take you. There’s no way I’m letting you drive.” Then he suddenly thought of Bea, “Is your family at home?”

  Evelyn held on to the wall, “No. Bill took Bea out to dinner for some father-daughter time. Hah, what a joke that is. She’ll be at home one more year and he decides he wants to be a father now. Typical.”

  “Okay, let’s go then,” He did his best to lead her to the car and put her into the passenger side. He threw his bike in the trunk.

  He was not looking forward to riding back to Westwood this late, but he didn’t have a choice. He had to get her out of there. If Uncle Gary did decide to come home early, Trevor would have a hard time explaining this one.

  ***

  The drive to the Stewart’s seemed much longer than twenty minutes. Evelyn passed out almost immediately, and in the silence Trevor had nothing to do but think. What was he going to do with this lady? He had just gotten things back on track with Bea, and now Evil Lyn was threatening it all. He had to think of some way to fix this, and soon.

  As they approached the house, Trevor slowed down and shut off the headlights. They came to a stop at the end of the driveway—exactly where he and Bea first met. God, it seemed like years ago, not weeks.

  Everything seemed quiet; no lights on and no cars in the driveway. He pulled up and killed the engine.

  “Okay Evelyn. We’re here.” No response. “Wake up.” He repeated it a little louder and shook her shoulder.

  She finally opened her eyes and sat up, “Where am I?” She looked at Trevor with alarm on her face, obviously not having a clue where she was.

  The last thing Trevor needed was Evelyn causing a scene. He said in his calmest voice possible, “You’re at home. I drove you here. Do you need help getting into the house?”

  She looked over at the house and realization seemed to set in. “Oh.” She started pulling at the car door handle and couldn’t get it open.

  “Do you need some help?” he asked.

  “No, no…I’m fine.” Suddenly the door swung open, and she fell out, right onto the pavement. If the whole situation wasn’t so serious, he would be laughing his ass off. Mr.T, if you could only see me now.

  Trevor ran around to the other side of the car and helped her off the ground as quietly as possible. Both of her arms were wrapped around his neck, the smell of her booze breath all over him.

  “All right Evelyn, let’s go.” He slowly began leading her up the driveway. She probably only weighed ninety pounds but it felt like much more. The entire way, she pulled down on his sweatshirt and dragged her feet while rambling off garbled apologies.

  They finally made it to the front door and he pulled out her keys. The second key he tried worked and the lock clicked.

  He just had to get her in the house and this nightmare would be over. But what Trevor didn’t realize, as he pushed open the heavy front door, was that the biggest nightmare awaited him on the other side.

  CHAPTER 21

  Lorene wished that man would just shut up and have a drink already. Bill Stewart had been pacing like a caged animal, mumbling under his breath for the last twenty minutes. Lorene wasn’t sure where Mrs. Stewart was, but she hoped for the sake of everyone there that she showed up soon.

  Lorene had called the salon and they told her that Mrs. Stewart had left at five-thirty, over three hours ago. She should’ve been home by now.

  Bea had purposely told her mom that she and dear old dad were going out to dinner. That way, Mrs. Stewart would think she had the house to herself. That woman loved her evenings home alone and it wasn’t a secret. Lorene and Bea figured she would probably be home by seven at the latest. They were wrong.

  They had been planning the surprise 40th birthday party for the last couple of weeks. Lorene thought maybe working on a party would be a good distraction for Bea. The girl had been so down-in-the-dumps lately. And because it was a full month before Mrs. Stewart’s real birthday, they knew she wouldn’t suspect anything.

  It was a little last minute, but it was amazing what money could do. Bill Stewart’s involvement was purely financial. To no one’s surprise, he simply wrote a blank check and said “Tell me when and where.” That was fine by Lorene and she took full advantage.

  Bea made sure all of her mom’s favorite things were incorporated into the party. Fresh Cymbidium orchids, Mrs. Stewart’s favorite, adorned the tabletops. Overhead, thousands of white twinkle lights wrapped in tulle draping illuminated the room. An enormous swan ice sculpture sat in the middle of the buffet table. Mrs. Stewart loved swans.

  With over one hundred guests, there was enough gourmet food to feed a small country and a full staff to wait on them. They had hired a harpist to play during dinner—Mrs. Stewart’s favorite instrument.

  No expense was spared for this party, much to Bill Stewart’s dismay. Lorene had even rented a shuttle bus to transport guests from a nearby parking lot. That way, there wouldn’t be any cars parked out front to tip off the party. They had gone to great lengths to make sure Mrs. Stewart was completely shocked.

  Just then Bea came running from the front foyer, “Kill the lights! She just pulled in! Quick, everyone hide! Hide! Shhh!”

  Lorene fumbled in the dark, holding Reggie’s hand and pulling him down beside her. They were crouched behind a giant potted fern in the corner of the great room.

  Only the front entryway was dimly lit and Lorene had a perfect view of it. She wasn’t sure what Mrs. Stewart’s reaction would be, but she hoped it would be a happy one.

  CLICK

  The door lock echoed through the silent room. The massive front door pushed open into the darkness. Lorene could only see a shadow. She shifted her footing, trying to get a better view of Mrs. Stewart. There was a scuffling sound and then the flick of the light switch.

  All of the guests jumped to their feet and yelled “Surprise!” in a deafening roar.

  Silence settled in immediately and a collective hush fell over the vast room. Lorene stared in astonishment at the scene before her. And then, in a matter of seconds, all hell broke loose.

  ***

  Scared shitless—that was the term that came to mind as Trevor faced the crowd in front of him. A sea
of wide eyes and gaping mouths stared back in horror. Hot, nauseating waves of panic surged through him and his grip on Evelyn’s arm suddenly gave way. She fell to the floor in a drunken heap. This can’t be happening.

  In seconds, Bill Stewart was at her side, lifting her up and carrying her like a baby over to the couch. He laid her down and covered her with a blanket. The partygoers all looked at each other with bewilderment and confusion.

  Trevor was frozen. His feet seemed to be cemented to the ground. Oh God… He would give anything for a giant black hole to open beneath him and swallow him—right then, right there.

  Bill Stewart slowly turned to Trevor. His eyes were filled with rage, his fists clenched at his side. The man looked like he was about to go postal. Another term quickly came to mind—dead meat.

  “Who in the hell are you and what have you done to my wife?!” he shouted at Trevor, his spit spraying in the air.

  As Trevor’s mind raced, his eyes darted across the room and that’s when he saw Bea. She was standing in the middle of the room, staring at him like everyone else.

  But unlike everyone else, she looked like she was about to cry. He wanted to reach out to her and start explaining. He wanted to plead with her and tell her it wasn’t his fault. But his lips wouldn’t move—nothing would move.

  “Well!?” Bill Stewart was in front of him now, his face just inches from Trevor’s, “I asked you a question!”

  “I…I just…” the words wouldn’t come.

  “Mr. Stewart! Hold on Mr. Stewart!” A familiar voice rose up from the back of the room. All heads turned in that direction. Lorene was working her way through the crowd, “Hold on, I can explain this. Let me explain!”

  Trevor had no clue where she was going with this, but he didn’t care. Thank God for Lorene.

  “This is my friend, Trevor.” Lorene stood at his side and put her hand on his shoulder. “He rides the bus into town with me sometimes. He works at one of the restaurants here.”