Hope For Garbage (11 page)

CHAPTER 24

Trevor heard shouting and it sounded like Uncle Gary.  He wondered what was up his ass.  Trevor had been on
Mr.T’s couch all day watching Seinfeld re-runs.  It was Sunday, and on this one day, Trevor could usually do what he wanted.  He got up and walked over to the window facing the backyard. 

The scene in front of him was like something out of a bad horror movie.  A bare-chested Uncle Gary was holding up an axe, swinging it wildly
through the air.  His jeans were hanging low under his sagging gut, and his dirty white underwear stuck out by a good couple of inches.  His bald head was blood-red and looked like it might explode at any minute.

Trevor’s heart started
pounding—this wasn’t good.  Maybe he was drunk.  It wasn’t typical on Sunday afternoons, but Uncle Gary was getting pretty extreme with his drinking lately.   Whatever the reason, Trevor didn’t have a good feeling about it.

“What’s the racket?” 
Mr.T asked from the kitchen.

Before Trevor could answer, the scene went from bad to worse.  Uncle Gary was heading for the Box.

“No!” Trevor yelled as he ran out the back door.

The maniac was going ballistic, screaming at the top of his lungs, “That son-of-a bitch
!  I’ll kill the piss-ant!”  Uncle Gary swung at the door of the Box.  The lock split open with one shot. 

Trevor ran through
Mr.T’s backyard, “Stop!  Wait!  Uncle Gary!  Stop!  Please!”

Uncle Gary stopped in the doorway and looked over at Trevor, his eyes wide with rage, “You piece of shit.  I give you a roof over your head, and this is how you repay me?”

Confusion set in, mixed with panic.  Trevor was at a loss, “What are you talking about?”

Uncle Gary leaned over,
resting his hands on his knees, his hunched back heaving up and down.  The out-of-shape bastard could barely catch his breath, but he never let go of the axe.  “What am I talking about?!”  He was shaking his head as he said it.

He looked up at Trevor with wild eyes, “Maybe you should ask Bill Stewart that question.”

Trevor could feel his mouth go dry.  His legs turned to jelly.  “What do you mean, Bill Stewart?  Did you talk to him?”

Uncle Gary
stepped slowly toward Trevor, emphasizing every word as he said it, “Yes, I talked to him.  And do you know what he told me, you shit-wad?”

As if on auto-pilot, Trevor could feel his feet back-peddling beneath him.

The maniac raged on, literally foaming at the mouth. “He told me that not only did you screw his daughter, but you went and fucked his old lady too!”

Trevor held his hands up in front of him, “Uncle Gary, it’s not true…I swear…”

Just in time, Mr.T appeared at his side, “Now Gary, put the axe down.  Let’s talk about this—”

Before he could finish, Uncle Gary turned to
Mr.T and began screaming, “You best shut up old man and mind your own damn business!

“And guess what else he told me?
”  His red face was turning an ugly shade of purple.  “It seems Bill Stewart has a lot of friends in high places…even in shitty old Westwood. In fact, he has a friend on the Westwood City Council who owes him a favor.”

Trevor did not like where this was going.

Then Uncle Gary laughed, a crazed, mad man laugh, “He is going to shut down McNulty Mechanics on some bullshit safety violations and there’s not a thing I can do to stop him.  My shop, my business, your grandfather’s business—gone,  just like that”  He snapped his fingers in the air.

Before Trevor could fully digest what he had heard, Uncle Gary was stomping back over to the
Box.  “So, since you’ve taken everything away from me, I’m going to return the favor.”

He disappeared inside
and Trevor ran after him.  “Uncle Gary!  Please let me explain!” he pleaded.

When he entered the Box he saw Uncle Gary holding the axe high, positioned right over his work table.  With one swoop the axe came down on the table, destroying the Windsor rocking chair Trevor had been working on.  The axe came down again and again sending shards of wood flying everywhere.  Trevor screamed for him to stop, but it was useless.  In a matter of seconds, his work table was destroyed.

Without thinking, Trevor ran up behind him and grabbed around his fat neck.  The hot, sweaty flesh was slippery beneath his arm and his uncle escaped easily.  They stood across from each other like men in a boxing ring, waiting for the other to make a move.

Uncle Gary
held the axe in front of him, panting as he said the words, “Don’t you come any closer…or you’ll be sorry!” 

  Trevor scanned the inside of the Box looking for something—anythi
ng—that would help him get the psycho out of there.  As his mind raced and his adrenaline pumped, Trevor looked away for only a second, but that was all Uncle Gary needed.  Something shiny flashed in the corner of Trevor’s eye and then everything went black.

CHAPTER 25

Tom ran as fast as his boney old legs would allow. 
He had to get to a phone fast and call the police.  That shit-for-brains had lost his mind and God only knows what he would do to Trevor.

This was one time Tom wished he had listened to the kid about getting a cell phone.  Trevor always said it would be a good idea so they could get a hold of each other in case of
an emergency.  Well no doubt about it, this definitely qualified.

As h
e got back to his house, Tom found Jip jumping and barking at the back door.  Poor little guy; he knew something was wrong.

Tom
swung open the door and hurried over to the yellow rotary phone on the kitchen wall—another thing Trevor had poked fun at.  “Really Mr.T? Not even push button?”

Tom’s shaking fingers dialed the numbers
, 911
.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“We need police right away!  My neighbor is running around with an axe!  He’s trying to hurt a boy!  Send someone quickly!” shouted Tom.

The woman on the other line was completely monotone, “Calm down sir…someone is on their way.  Your address is 223 Greenview, is that correct?”

“Yes! Yes!  Hurry please!”  Tom pleaded.

“They are on their way.  Sir, is anyone hurt?” 

Tom stretched the chord on the phone as far as it would go so he could look out the back window.  Trevor and Gary were still in the Box.  God only knew what was happening inside.  “I don’t know!  I have to go help him!”

“Sir, I need you to stay calm.”

“Oh screw this.”  Tom dropped the phone and ran to the back door.

His heart sank. 
Gary was running from the Box, and a plume of black smoke followed him. 
Oh no, God no.
 

Moving faster than he had in years, Tom reached for a dish towel on the kitchen t
able.   He turned on the sink and quickly soaked the towel in cold water.  He threw open the back door, and hobbled out.

Tom was pushing his legs as hard as he could, but he felt like he was moving in slow motion.  The smoke coming out of the Box was getting thicker; he could feel the heat as he got closer. 

The kid was still in there.  He had to get Trevor out!

When he approached the entrance, the heat was overwhelming.  The black clouds of smoke were blinding; he couldn’t see anything inside the Box.

Tom got down on his hands and knees and tied the dishtowel over his face.  He blindly reached out onto the ground in front of him.  As he began crawling into the Box, he instantly felt the searing heat on his skin.  The acrid smell was overpowering and the sting in his eyes was excruciating.

He crawled further into the Box and breathing got more difficult.  It felt like someone had wrapped a tight rubber band around his chest. 
You’ve got to keep going Tom.

Just then Tom felt something—an arm, and then a body.  He squinted in the darkness and saw the outline of Trevor’s face.  He was out cold and bleeding badly from the head.

It was probably the adrenaline, but Tom felt a surge of strength that surprised him.  He grabbed Trevor’s arm and began pulling him toward the door.   Everything in his body burned—his arms, his legs, his eyes, his lungs. 
Tom, you have to get the kid out of here.

Only a few feet separated them from the entrance, but he didn’t know if he’d make it.  He pushed his body to limits he had never taken it to before.
 
Just a little further…
  Finally, he felt some patches of fresh air, and in a matter of seconds, they were outside.

Tom continued to pull the kid out into t
he grass, far away from the smoke and flames.  When he couldn’t go any further, he felt his body surrender.

Tom
collapsed to his knees and fell on the grass next to Trevor.  Ripping the towel from his face, he took in one last gulp of early summer air.  He could hear sirens fading in the distance as he closed his eyes.

All of the pain seemed to melt away; his body felt light and his head clear.  The feeling of peace was incredible.  A brilliant light shined in the darkness and then
Tom saw her—Maddie, as beautiful as the day he married her.  She glowed like an angel, her smile radiant.  She was waving him home.

CHAPTER 26

It had been a week since the big surprise party—the king-daddy of all surprise parties—and the Stewart house hadn’t been the same.  Mrs. Stewar
t took a vacation from her job and spent most days locked up in her bedroom with a bottle of Absolut.  She had asked Lorene to move in full-time, to which Lorene politely declined.

Bill Stewart bought
a condo in the city and Lorene hadn’t seen him since.  Good riddance.  Appalled that she tried to cover for Trevor, he actually wanted to fire her.  But Bea made such a fuss that he let it go.  A divorce would probably come next, and as far as Lorene was concerned, it wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Bea was a mess—just heart-broken.  Things between her and
Mrs. Stewart would never be the same.  The girl had been hurt badly and Lorene didn’t know if she would ever fully recover.  Bea didn’t understand why this was happening to her.  She looked to Lorene for answers, but she simply didn’t have them.

For three days after the party, Bea stayed in bed refusing to even come out of her room.  Only because of Lorene’s constant nagging, did she finally
emerge from hiding.

And then the girl
didn’t speak, and barely touched her food.  Lorene had tried making her favorites like chicken pot pie and spaghetti.  Nothing worked—she picked at her food and sighed, and picked some more. 

Today was no exception.  Bea sat at the kitchen table with the usual sour puss face.  She was twirling her fork back and forth through her linguini
.  She hadn’t touched a bite.

Lorene put down the pot she was washing and walked over to the table.  She sat across from Bea, and looked her straight in the eye.  “Bea, now you have got to start eating something.  A strong enough wind comes a
long, and you’re going to blow right away!”

  Not only had the girl lost weight, her face was pale, her eyes were puffy
, and her hair actually looked greasy.

Bea
barely glanced at her, “I’m not hungry Lorene.”

She
was at a loss.  Maybe a little tough love was the way to go.  “Bea, how do you think it makes me feel when I spend all that time making dinner for you, and you simply stare at it like a bump on a log?  Every night it just goes to waste.”

That got her attention
, “I thought you took leftovers home to Reggie.”

Maybe Lorene was finally getting somewhere.  “I do, I do.  But there are only so many left-overs my Reggie can eat!  And besides, it makes me happy when
you
eat my food.”

“Sorry” she said quietly.  Now she had tears in her eyes.

Lorene put on her happy face, “Don’t be sorry!  Just eat, okay?”

Bea nodded.

Lorene thought it might be a good time to change the subject.  “Hey, do you want to go shopping after dinner?  We can go to the Gap, or that other store you love so much—the Coconut Republic” Lorene tried to sound serious.  She hoped this goof would make Bea smile.

Bea looked up, and this time a slight grin was forming
on her face, “You mean the Banana Republic, Lorene."

“Oh yea, of course...well, what do you say?” 

Bea got up from the table. “Okay.  Let me grab a sweatshirt.”  She ran upstairs.

Lorene felt an instant wave of relief wash over her.  This was the firs
t normal behavior she had seen from the girl in a week.

She
picked up her purse and walked to the coat closet to grab her jacket.  The evening news was playing on the flat screen, and as Lorene glanced at it, she stopped dead in her tracks.

In the center of the screen was a close-up of a face she knew all too well.  The caption underneath read ‘Teen Injured in Fire’. 
Jesus Lord.  It was Trevor.

Lorene immediately ran over to the TV and turned down the volume.  She didn’t need Bea hearing this now.  The reporter was standing in front of a small
structure that was badly burned.
The Box!
  The reporter then motioned to the garage, “Only a charred frame and piles of ash are what remains of this fire that injured seventeen year old Trevor McNulty.”

Lorene picked up the remote to turn it off when Bea suddenly shouted from behind, “No!  Don’t Lorene!  Oh my God!  It’s Trevor
!  Lorene, Trevor’s hurt!”

Lorene immediately
went to the girl and put her arms around her, “Now, calm down Bea.  We don’t know exactly what happened yet.” She tried to listen to the tail-end of the report, but could only hear the last statement.

Apparently Trevor was at Southwest Hospital in serious condition.  That was all she got.  Lorene turned to Bea, “Okay, listen to me.  I am going to call the hospital and see if I can get any more information.”

Bea’s eyes were wide, her voice shaking, “No Lorene!  We are going to the hospital.  I can’t believe this.   We have to make sure he’s okay!”

Obviously
it didn’t matter how badly things had gone between the two kids.  The girl still cared about Trevor.

“But Bea, honey…”

Bea was already half-way to the front door. “Whether you come or not, I’m going.” 

Lorene knew sh
e wouldn’t win this fight.  The hospital probably wouldn’t give her any information over the phone anyway.  But there was no way she was letting Bea drive in her condition.  The girl had a lead-foot as it was, and Lorene didn’t need all of them ending up in the hospital.  She sighed and grabbed her purse, “Okay, let’s go.”

***

“Are you family?” The young nurse at the desk asked.  She was typing something into a computer and barely glanced up at them.  She didn’t look much older than Bea.

Lorene looked at Bea
, “Uh…no.  But we are like family to him.  He really doesn’t have any family in the truest sense of the word.”

The nurse’s hands stopped momen
tarily and she looked up, “Well I’m sorry but I can’t give you any information unless you are immediate family.  That is hospital policy.”

Lorene had a feeling this was coming and she was afraid Bea might explode at any minute.  This nurse would have to be swayed.  She looked at the name tag on the nurse’s crisp white shirt—Kristen Allen, RN.

“Look Kristen, may I call you Kristen?  My…uh…friend here,” she pointed to Bea, “was Trevor’s girlfriend and they were very serious.”  A little fibbing couldn’t hurt.  “Could you just tell us something?  Anything?  Please?”  Bea’s face was full of worry and very persuasive.

The nurse glanced around
the station and then said quietly, “He suffered a head injury.  The C-Scan showed a small skull fracture, but no brain injury, so that’s good.”

Lorene leaned in closer, “Wait—I heard on the news it was a fire.”

“It was, but he was injured before the fire.  He did suffer smoke inhalation and second degree burns on one of his arms too.”

Bea
interjected rather loudly, “Do you know how this happened?”  The girl was losing her composure.

Nurse Kristen
must’ve seen the desperation in Bea’s eyes.  Scanning the nurse’s station once again, “Well I heard there was some kind of argument between Trevor and his uncle and his uncle set the garage on fire.  Trevor was still inside.  That’s all I know, but it will probably be on the news.”

Dear Lord.

The young nurse smiled at Bea reassuringly, “He should be okay though.  If you come back in a couple days he’ll probably be upgraded from serious condition.  Then they allow non-family visitation and you could see him.”

“Can’t we see him now?”  Bea pleaded.

“I’m really sorry.  There’s nothing I can do.  He’s probably under heavy sedation anyway.”

Lorene smiled at Nurse Kristen and thanked her.  They walked back toward the elevator and it wasn’t long before Bea spoke her mind.  “This is bullshit.  He doesn’t have immediate family.”

Lorene knew the girl was frustrated, “There’s nothing more we can do here Bea.  I promise we’ll come back as soon as we hear something.”

They got into the elevator and the doors shut.  Suddenly, Bea got wide-eyed, “Oh Lorene, what about
Mr.Tyminski?  Someone has to call him!”

Lorene hadn’t thought about Tom.  “I imagine he already knows what’s going on.  But you should probably call
him anyway.  He might be able to tell us more.”  She thought about the charred remains of the Box.  If she remembered correctly, Tom and Trevor were neighbors.  He must have witnessed some of this.

Bea pulled out her cell phone as they stepped off the elevator.  “Yes, Westwood, Ohio.  Yes, I need the number for Tom Tyminski—I believe on Greenview road…thanks.”  Bea bit her nails as she waited.  Then she frowned at Lorene, “Ok, thanks.”  She clicked off her phone, “It’s not listed.”

Before Lorene could say anything, Bea stated matter-of-factly, “Well, we’ll just go to his house.  We can go right now, on our way home.”

  There was no point in arguing with the girl.  “Okay…”  Lorene sighed
.  She slipped her arm into Bea’s, and they walked out into the parking garage together.

A bad feeling was creeping over Lorene, a feeling she just couldn’t shake.  Something told her there was more bad news to come—much more.