“Ms. Chambers, this is Mr. Duncan. How are you?”
“…Covered in trash.” she said coolly.
“Yeah, uh, sorry about that. It looks like our employee left a warning two weeks ago, though.”
“I received no warning.” She lifted her chin high, cast her glance back out the front door and winced at the ugly sight.
“Well, when he got back here, he left a copy in the bin…”
“It must’ve fallen off, I received no warning,” she repeated.
“Well, we can’t have someone pick up the trash. You’ll have tuh wait ’til next week. Typically, as long as everything is bagged up properly, the weight rules are ignored, but you can’t have un-bagged and unboxed materials just lying about. It is dangerous for our workers, Ms. Chambers.”
“Yes, Lord knows the dangers and perils to sanitation workers here in Westchester County is high! All over the worldwide news, they interrupt tales of muggings, gang related violence, and grisly murders to break out with stories about a hangnail one of your sanitation engineers received out here on the mean, dangerous streets of Larchmont Manor. It’s merciless mayhem, I tell ya!”
“Alright, all that’s not really necessary, Ms. Chambers,” he said lazily between more obnoxious chews.
“Look,” she rolled her eyes, “I will have to take care of this on my own I see, but please know, I’m beyond disappointed. It’s not like I have a history of this. If I’d seen a note last week or the previous one, I would have definitely paid attention to it. I am not that sort of person.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Chambers. It’s nothing personal, but rules are rules.”
“Yes, I can hear how heartbroken you are over the entire matter. I’m certain you’ll toss and turn all night about it…and stop smacking in my ear. You sound like a damn cow!” She quickly disconnected the call and made a mad dash up her steps to her bedroom. Thrusting the door open, she let it bang against the wall, then marched to her dresser drawers and pulled out a pair of taupe leggings and an old white V-neck T-shirt. She had no time to wait for Brian to return after school. Besides, knowing him, he’d loiter about and not get home until dinnertime. The mess couldn’t sit there all day, and she had an important client coming over in an hour to sign a contract. What would it look like for an Interior Designer to have trash piled high like Mt. Everest in front of her estate? Who would trust her with their most prized possession, the roof over their head, after seeing such a sight? Cursing under her breath, she paused and shot herself a look in the damn mirror, a beautiful piece framed in silver, but her mood was bordered in angst.
The trash isn’t the only thing that stinks! What a messed up day, and it’s only eight in the damn morning!
‡
Chapter Four
“Fifty fuckin’ Shades of Grey…” Sean mumbled as he glared at his small television mounted on the wall of his bedroom. The author of the popular book series, E.L. James, was being interviewed. “If I pulled out some handcuffs on a chick, she’d call the goddamn police!” He huffed and shuffled under his crumpled sheets, getting comfortable while successfully navigating past the lumpy dip in the middle of his Queen-sized mattress. Three hours earlier, he’d fallen asleep after finishing a shitload of homework, most of which, he could no longer recall, even if some insane professor drew a gun on him, demanding to be told. His world became a gray blur, with pops of color every now and again. Laughter with a dash of cynicism became his medicine, anything to not feel the truth, the weight of the matter on his shoulders. Shaking himself out of his own thoughts before they buried him, he turned to his left, taking note of his messy nightstand covered in half empty ink pens, balled up pieces of paper, and a coffee cup that had been there twenty-four hours too long.
I gotta clean this place up…
As he turned back around and glanced lazily up at the television, he heard his computer beep. He set his lethargic sights upon it, sighed, and pulled the damn thing close, propping it onto his lap like a hospital tray filled with all the unseasoned, bland food one could imagine.
“Who do we have tonight?” he mumbled as he typed into the dating site window, prepared to take notice of a pop-up featuring the latest and greatest shallow eye-candy this side of the Hudson River. On this particular website, instead of taking down his profile completely, he’d simply removed all of his photos and put the damn thing on hiatus. Matter of fact, he’d done that with all of the dating sites he visited over the past few days. He’d meant what he said to his mother. There was simply no time to date, and though he didn’t feed the monster of jaded thoughts very often, he was sick of women and their superficiality, silly problems and mind-fuckery ways. Regardless, he’d been kidding himself. A part of him longed for conversation with the opposite sex, he was torn. He wanted the window to be left open a tiny crack, as a precaution…a ‘just in case.’
Every now and again, someone would still come fishing around despite his boring profile, devoid of the images of him riding his friend’s motorcycle, flexing a damn muscle he’d worked hard to obtain, and other silly crap to reel in the ladies, get a little cha-cha, make plans for a horizontal joyride. No, that profile was as bare as a baby’s newborn ass. There wasn’t even a damn headshot. They got nothing from ol’ Sean, and that’s exactly how he liked it. He simply watched his porn, jerked off every now and again, and went about his merry fucking way.
Feeling the stark silence around him, he clicked on his saved musical collection on his computer, and played, ‘Money’, by Pink Floyd.
Yeah, that’s good…help me wake up a bit…
Despite his ‘fuck the world’ attitude regarding dating and blank wall profile, some lady was knocking at his proverbial, computerized door. He stared at the screen, coming face to face with the generic outline of a female. No photo, no nothing…just like himself. All she offered was a location of: New York. He waited, and then, words flew across his screen, inviting him in for a chat.
Hello FINDERKEEPER…this is Sapphire Storm.
Hesitating for a moment, he debated on even engaging in banter with the woman…or man. Who the fuck really knew? There could be a hairy ass Sasquatch wearing a tiny red sombrero trimmed with golden tassels on the other end. The beast could be relaxing in a hammock in the Cayman Islands holding a ukulele to serenade himself with a damn love song in Portuguese. You never knew with this sort of thing. He shrugged and brought the laptop a wee bit closer… Sasquatches weren’t so bad…
Hello Sapphire Storm.
I’ve never done this before, she wrote, causing him to lift his brow in confusion.
Done what before? –FINDERKEEPER
Been on a dating website. –Sapphire Storm
Well, you aren’t missing much. –FINDERKEEPER
He yawned, glanced up at the television, and then back down at his computer.
You don’t sound very enthused. –Sapphire Storm
I’m not. –FINDERKEEPER
Oh… –Sapphire Storm
Look, don’t want to waste your time. I’m taking a break from dating right now. –FINDERKEEPER
He prepared himself to say his goodbyes and send the little shy thing on her way…
Oh, thank God! That’s perfect, actually. That’s why your profile appealed to me. There’s nothing on it. LOL. I just want someone to talk to. It’s been a rough time. Not interested in dating anymore because it never works out. Just want to vent to a stranger…that sounds crazy doesn’t it? –Sapphire Storm
Sean looked at the screen and fought the urge to type, ‘Who fucking cares? Go to bed’, and shut the damn thing down. But then, he remembered what Kyle said…
Maybe this one time, he could be like his old self, before the thief of time and joy came and stole his life, made him scarf down every second of the day for his damn self, afraid to share, afraid he’d be derailed and lose something that was invisible, but oh so precious. That’s what time was after all…something everyone needed, but never had enough of. He was a second, minute and hour hoar
der. He’d been driven by the freshly hatched fear that he may not reach his goals and complete all the tasks he desired to fulfill. Maybe this one time, he could give without getting a damn thing in return…so, he stayed online, and wrote back…
Yes, but not really. No, it doesn’t sound crazy. I mean, I’ve heard weirder things –FINDERKEEPER
I’m really laughing right now. –Sapphire Storm
Good. Laughter is always good. –FINDERKEEPER
It is. I have to laugh at some of this stuff now. I had a bad date. Tired of bad dates. –Sapphire Storm
What happened? –FINDERKEEPER
Sean sat up a bit higher, his interest piqued ever so slightly.
The guy poked my stomach. –Sapphire Storm
He poked you? Like sexually, or like on Facebook? –FINDERKEEPER
He couldn’t help but smirk…
No. He literally poked me. He poked my stomach with his finger, like I was the Pillsbury Dough Boy. He said he wanted to make sure I wasn’t sucking my gut in or waist training. –Sapphire Storm
LOL. That’s pretty messed up. Some people are fucking insane. –FINDERKEEPER
Yeah… –Sapphire Storm
So how did you respond to that? –FINDERKEEPER
I told him not to do it again. Well, I was a bit more colorful than that in my response, but that is what I essentially said. –Sapphire Storm
And then he made you squeal and put you in the oven on 365 degrees, right? –FINDERKEEPER
You are hilarious. –Sapphire Storm
Why thank you, I’ll be here all night. I take cashiers cheeks, money orders, penny candy and credit cards. –FINDERKEEPER
I hope so, because I’m actually feeling depressed right now. Maybe I can send you some funds over PayPal. :) –Sapphire Storm
You are really bummed out, huh? Is it all because of the date, or something else? –FINDERKEEPER
He shook his head at the exchange. How in the hell did I get roped into this? Just my luck…some depressed soul sucker has found me online and decided to hitch her teardrop covered wagon to my evening…but what sickens me the most is I actually want to hear her answer.
…or perhaps he was losing his mind.
Just everything. Things aren’t going right. –Sapphire Storm
You know what? –FINDERKEEPER
What? –Sapphire Storm
When you’re having a bad day, remember that each day, no matter how messed up it is, will get you that much closer to your goals. –FINDERKEEPER
Did you read that off of a bathroom wall or some 99 cents ‘Good Vibes’ booklet? –Sapphire Storm
No. A street performer said it, then asked me for a dollar. –FINDERKEEPER
Did you pay it? –Sapphire Storm
I told him if I gave him a dollar, it would only help him toward his goal, not mine, and since he was my personal guru, he should know that I needed the dollar more than him. –FINDERKEEPER
And what did this ‘personal guru’ say? –Sapphire Storm
He picked up his buckets and paintbrushes he was using for sticks to beat out some bomb ass beats, told me to fuck off and left. –FINDERKEEPER
NO WAY! You’re making this up. –Sapphire Storm
Yes I am, but you laughed and feel better, so that’s all that matters… –FINDERKEEPER
You’re right. Thank you… –Sapphire Storm
You’re welcome. –FINDERKEEPER
They were quiet for a moment or two, neither of them typing. Sean hated to admit it, but he rather enjoyed chatting with Sapphire. She got his sense of humor and encouraged his lunacy. He liked that. He liked that a lot.
Well, goodnight, FINDERKEEPER. Thanks for the laughs. Unfortunately I have to get up early tomorrow. Maybe I will be on tomorrow night. If I am, can I ring you? –Sapphire Storm
Ring me? This REALLY IS new to you, isn’t it? –FINDERKEEPER
Yeah, that’s true. What term should I use? –FINDERKEEPER
Don’t worry about a term. If you see me on, or want to chat with me and I’m available, I just may let you into my exclusive club. But there is a membership fee. –FINDERKEEPER
Ha-ha. Ok. Thank you, but what is it? It may be too rich for my blood. –Sapphire Storm
One poke in the tummy. –FINDERKEEPER
LOL. You’re evil. –Sapphire Storm
I try to be, but usually fall short. :) Goodnight Sapphire Storm. –FINDERKEEPER
Goodnight FINDERKEEPER, you’ve been a real sweetheart…
*
The storm clouds had gathered and huddled over his damn head. Sean clung to the back of the garbage truck, hoping they didn’t decide to open their cottony mouths and have a go at him. He hated working on rainy days; it was the fucking worst. It made the stench of the loud, steel truck all the more pungent, and working in soaked clothing was an added drawback he’d much rather evade. Here he was back in Hoity-Toity-Ville, where the rich got richer, and the grass got greener, and the land of reality became more distant. As they made their way up Lyons Place, he saw a woman standing on the curb…in her damn robe. She’d crossed her arms so tightly, it looked as if she may squeeze the very life out of herself, and she sported an unmistakable scowl across her face. Oh yes, she was ready…her game face was on, and she wanted a piece of his ass on a damn platter.
Oh shit…here we go.
He drew a bit closer, picked up her neighbor’s trash, and avoided eye contact. Besides, he needed time to practice his lines inside the alcoves and nooks of his witty mind, dig out his best material. The rich woman no doubt wanted a showdown, and due to his lack of quality sleep the night before, he was ready to unleash his frustrations upon her. As they drew closer, he couldn’t help but notice how the slight breeze not only swirled the stench around, but also moved her robe a bit from her long, shapely leg, revealing a smooth, tawny brown limb for his eyes to take all in.
Look at her damn legs. Pure perfection…
He saw Roy take a gander too; the bastard had glued his eyes to the broad, getting a bird’s eye view through his side mirror. They pulled up a bit closer, and Roy tipped his hat, pretending to be a damn gentleman. The woman offered him a stiff smile, then shot a heated death glare at Sean as he jumped off the truck in his typical happy-go-lucky way.
…And she’s pretty as fuck, too…
“Are you the same person that left my trash here last week?”
No greeting, no wave, no ‘How tha fuck do ya cock a doodle do?!’
“That foothill of broken wine glasses, hypothermic needles and splintered wood? Yup.” He took hold of her lone dark green plastic bin and tossed it into the mouth of the ironclad monster beside him, rotating his shoulder blades just so. This was getting good to him, and they’d only just begun.
“Obviously that was meant to be sarcasm.”
He shrugged and kept moving about.
“In all of my years of living here, I have never had anyone leave my trash here, nor have I left a lot of waste. This was a one-time thing. You must be a very lazy person, trying to find excuses to not do your job!” she chastised, her dark brown eyes sizing him up, a look of disdain on her beautiful face as she placed her hand on her hip.
Look at those goddamn lips…
Sean smirked, reached for a white plastic bag of hers and tossed it into the jaws of death, too.
“Ya think so?” was all he offered while his sights drifted back down to her exposed leg. He was prepared to deliver another verbal blow, but damn it, he’d been distracted, knocked off his A-Game. Following his eyes, she took embarrassed inventory of herself, and smacked the damn robe shut with a slap of her hand.
“Yes, I think so.”
“I left you a warning several weeks before…wasn’t the first time you were told.” He threw a large green bag inside the metal menace.
“That’s what your boss said too, but I didn’t get it.” He could tell she was restraining herself, controlling her outbursts. Below the surface, a very angry woman lived, and if she had the chance
to get him behind closed doors, he was convinced she’d pour all of that shit into a smack across his face, a punch in his damn gut, and stomp his foot like it were a bunch of grapes she wished to make into wine.
“So.” He grabbed another bag from the curb, this time, moving a bit slower, dragging out the interaction that he so relished. “That’s my fault too, right?”
He tossed it leisurely over, figuring it must’ve been full of papers since it weighed hardly anything at all.
“Look, I would just appreciate more consideration. Don’t do that again.”
“You rich people are something else, ya know that?” He laughed humorlessly. “I could’ve not given you a warning at all. The world doesn’t revolve around you, ya know.”
“Seeeaaan!” Roy called out over the loud engine of the thing, interrupting the quarrel. “Stop it. Look ma’am, we apologize. He didn’t mean nuttin’ by what he just said. He did leave a note though, I saw him. We are sorry for the inconvenience. It’s just policy is all.”
She looked at Roy, offered a peace-filled smile, softened a bit, then turned back toward Sean, glaring at him as if she could slice his head off with a mere glance. She scratched her head, which she’d covered with a black satiny scarf, and bunched the material just so, causing her tresses to be partially exposed. A few renegade curls on the side blew in the wind, reminding him of soft, shiny ribbons.
I wonder if her pussy is shaved bald or has the same soft hair on it?
He pulled himself away from the calm, beautiful moment and took in the deep, dark hatred building inside of her eyes. Oh yes, she wanted to get a hold of him. Of that, he was certain.
Honestly, he wouldn’t have minded her getting her hands on him…not minded at all…
“You have a lot to learn about customer service, young man,” she chastised as she turned on her heels to walk back up her driveway.
“But you have great customer service, ma’am!” She stopped and turned back toward him, an obvious look of perplexity on her face. “Too bad I didn’t bring any singles, you earned every cent! Nice bra and panties, baby! They match, and black is my favorite color!” He cackled as he jumped on the back of the truck and was hauled away just in the nick of time.
The Fight Within Page 7
