Hope For Garbage (14 page)

CHAPTER 32

It had been almost a week in the hospital when the doctors finally decided to let him go.  And two days
had passed since his visit from Investigator O’Donnell, aka, the man-in-black.  If it wasn’t for the visits from Lorene, he might have lost his mind.  She kept him occupied with her small talk and kept his thoughts away from the fire—from both fires.

Trevor had nothing to take with him but the clothes on his back, which Loren
e had been nice enough to buy.  They were just t-shirts and jeans, but still nicer than anything he had ever owned.  She had offered to pick him up too, but he told her he had some things to take care of.  Luckily, she didn’t ask any questions.   He still planned on staying with Lorene, but there was someone else he had to see first.

As Trevor stepped out of the revolving door of the hospital lobby, he turned his head up to the sun and let the warmth wash over his face.  The winters may suck in Cleveland, but the summers weren’t so bad—warm and breezy with bright blue skies.

He did his best to empty his mind, as he had done repeatedly since the man-in-black left his room two days ago.  Trevor knew if he could just hold it together until he got out of the hospital, he might be able to find a way to deal with everything. 
Might.

The sound of a honking horn jarred him out of his semi-meditative state.  A silver sedan pulled up alongside the curb with a blond woman in the driver’s seat. 
His ride.

He walked over to the passenger side and leaned into the open window.  “Thanks a lot for coming.”

She smiled and said, “No problem, get in.”  Trevor opened the door and got in.

***

Lorene had just finished polishing the last of the silver flatware when the doorbell rang.  In the quiet house she jumped at the sound.  For a change, Mrs. Stewart was out somewhere and Bea was at the beach.

  The girl
improved a little bit every day.  She got a summer job at the mall and started going out with her girlfriends.  Although she had decided to end things with Trevor once and for all, it didn’t seem to bring her down.

Lorene was still surp
rised at how strong the girl appeared.  One day she seemed desperate and determined to work things out with Trevor.  But a couple of days later, she was telling him she just wanted to be friends.  Maybe learning about his horrific past was just too much to handle.

Lorene went to the door humming an old Donna Summer tune.  Listening to the oldies station
always seemed to make the work go a little faster.

She opened the door to find a pretty brunette woman standing in front of her.  She had kind eyes and a warm smile—probably in her forties if Lorene had to guess.  Her hair was cut short into one of those angled bobs and she was very sharply dressed in a crisp white blouse and navy slacks.  Lorene had done enough of the Stewart’s dry cleaning to recognize expensive clothes when she saw them.

“Hello. Can I help you?”  Lorene asked in her most professional housekeeper voice.

The woman hesitated for a second and
then extended her hand, “Hello.  My name is Jean Tyminski.”

Lorene felt sympathy wash over her as she realized who the woman was.  They shook hands
.  “Tom Tyminski was my father.”

“Of course, of course…  Please do come in!”  Lorene motioned the woman into the foyer.  “I’m Lorene, the family housekeeper.  I was so sorry to hear about your father.  I met him only briefly but he seemed like a wonderful man.”

“Thank you.  He was wonderful—the best father a daughter could ever ask for.”

Lorene could see the pain in her eyes.  “Well come have a seat.  I can make us some tea.”  She made her way to the sink to fill the teapot.

Jean Tyminski sat at the kitchen table, “I don’t want to take up a lot of your time.  I was hoping you might know where I could find Trevor McNulty?”

Lorene had guessed as much when she heard the woman’s last name.  It was the only reason Lorene could think of as to why she was there.

Jean continued, “I called the hospital and they told me he was released.  They wouldn’t give me any more information, so I went down there myself.  I found one of the nurses who took care of him and he reluctantly gave me your name.  He told me you had visited with another friend of Trevor’s, a young girl named Bea Stewart?”

Lorene smiled, “Yes, Bea is a good friend of Trevor’s.”

“Well, I’m sorry about bothering you like this.  I found this address online and I just didn’t know where else to go.  I am only in town for a couple of days and I really wanted to speak to Trevor.  I was hoping to see him at the funeral, but I’m guessing he couldn’t make it.”

Lorene raised her hands up
, “It’s no problem at all.  Bea and I were at the funeral, and now I remember seeing you there.  Trevor very badly wanted to go but he just wasn’t well enough.  I’m sure it broke his heart not to be there.”

“I’m sure it did.
”  Jean smiled again.  “My father talked about Trevor often.  He was like a grandson to my father.  I would very much like to meet him before I head back to California.”

“Of course.  Just so you know, he has agreed to come stay with me temporarily until he gets things figured out. So I’m sure I’ll be seeing him later today.”

“Oh good,” Jean began digging in her purse.  “Thank you so much.  I’ll give you my cell phone number and you can call me.  Or if Trevor wants to call me himself, that’s fine too.”  She handed the slip of paper to Lorene.

“We’ll do,” Lorene showed her to the
foyer.  “It was so nice to meet you Jean.  I will definitely be in touch.”

Jean nodded and headed out the front door.  As she walked down the brick pathway, Lorene’s thoughts turned to Tom Tyminski.  He must’ve been a special man; it was obvious his daughter loved him very much.

And it was obvious that Trevor loved him very much as well.  In the midst of their terrible loss, maybe the two of them could find some comfort in each other.

CHAPTER 33

“I’m glad you called me.  How are you feeling?”  Dr. Fisher closed the office door behind her.  She sat across from him and picked up a yellow pad from the side table placing it on her lap.

“Do you mind not taking any notes…I need to get this out.  Can you just listen?”  Trevor knew he sounded like a desperate ass, but he didn’t care.  He just needed to start talking; just let it out now.

“Sorry, bad habit.”  She put the pad
on the side table.

He looked over at the window.  N
othing but blue. 
Talk Trevor. 
“I never told you about my nightmares—about the man-in-black?”

She shook her head, “We didn’t get that far.”

“Well, I’ve had these dreams for as long as I can remember.  They are always pretty much the same.  I’m flying over this open field and there’s this man on the ground chasing me.  He’s wearing all black.  I keep falling toward the ground and I know he’s trying to catch me…”

“Does he ever catch you?” she interjected.

“Sometimes, and then I usually just wake up.” His head felt so heavy; he was exhausted.  "Well I figured out who he is.  He’s an arson investigator.”

Trevor looked down and concentrated on the zigzag pattern in the carpet.  “He came to the hospital to see me.  I recognized him right away as the man in my nightmares, but I couldn’t remember where I had seen him before.”

He felt a huge lump forming in his throat.  “He wanted to ask me some questions about the fire at the Box.”   He felt like he might choke on his own words, “And then he told me.”

“Go on Trevor.”

Tears began dripping from his cheeks and falling into his lap.  “He told me that he was there.”

Dr. Fisher reached over and handed him a tissue, “Where Trevor?  Where was he?”

He looked up at her, “Four years ago.”

The empathetic gaze on Dr. Fisher’s face changed before him.  He could see a spark of realization in her eyes.  She spoke softly and asked him the one question he never thought he’d be able to answer, until now.  “Trevor,” she said, “Can you tell me what happened four years ago?”

His heart was racing and his head was pounding.  He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.  He couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer.  “I think I need to go back further.  I think I should start at the beginning—at least the beginning that I remember.”

***

Trevor woke up to screaming.

Mom was really mad this time—shouting louder than he had ever heard before.

“That bastard!  His soul mate?  His fucking soul mate?!  He leaves me with two mouths to feed!  A fucking baby to take care of!”

Jacob, Trevor’s little brother,
wasn’t even a year old yet.  He was screaming too, but Mom ignored him.  After a few minutes, things finally got quiet and Trevor felt like it was safe to come out of his bedroom.

He walked out into the small living room and found Mom sitting on the couch with a piece of paper in her hands.  He walked over to her slowly; he wanted to hug her and tell her it would be okay.

Mom looked different, her eyes looked crazy. “Do you know what this is Trevor?  It’s a note from your father.  You can read now, can’t you?  Here!”  She forced the paper into his hands and screamed, “Read it!”

Why was she angry with him?  He didn’t do anything.  The tears filled his eyes, but he tried to hold them back.  Mom didn’t like
it when he cried—she said she had enough crying with the baby.

The black writing on the yellow paper looked like scribble to him.  He was only seven and didn’t know how to read cursive yet.  “What’s it say, Mama?” he whispered, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

She shook her head, “You don’t just look like him—you’re an idiot like him too!”  She ripped the note out of his hands.

Now she began talking in her quiet, calm voice.  That was the voice that scared Trevor the most. “What it says is that your father has left us.  He has found his fucking soul mate and is never coming back.  That is what it says.”

Trevor felt sadness and anger set in.  It couldn’t be true.  How could Dad do this to him?  How could he leave him and Jacob with Mom?

Dad wasn’t around that much, but when he was home, he was nice to Trevor.  Sometimes Dad even bought him gum or Pokémon cards.  Dad never smacked him, or called him mean names like Mom did.

“I’m so sorry Mama.”  He walked toward her and tried to hug her.

She put her hands up in front of him and stopped him.  “No Trevor.  Not now.”  She crumpled the note into a ball and threw it across the room.  “Go back to bed Trevor.”  She walked away, into her bedroom, still ignoring Jacob who had cried himself to sleep.

***

“Trevor, do you want to take a breather?”  Dr. Fisher asked.

“No.  I want to keep talking if that’s okay.”

Dr. Fisher walked over to a mini-fridge on the corner of her desk.  “Would you like one?”  She was holding out
a bottle of Dasani.  She smiled, “It’s important to stay hydrated.”

“Sure.”  Trevor took a long drink of the bottled water.  His throat was dry from all of the talking, and it tasted good.  He would lecture her about the bottles another day.

Dr. Fisher sat back down across from him.  “So was this about the time your mom started her phobic behavior with the kleenex?”

“
No that came later.  She just started hiding in her bedroom a lot—like most of the day.  I mean, she got me up for school in the morning.  She would get me a bowl of cereal and make my lunch, you know help me get to the bus…  But, then she started going out at night and sleeping in.  I started missing a lot of school.”

He took another sip of water, “So, she bought me an alarm clock and showed me how to use it.  She also showed me how to get my cereal, make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and how to do laundry.”

“Trevor, what grade were you in, do you remember?”

“I don’t know—like first, second maybe?”

Dr. Fisher nodded, “That’s a lot of responsibility for a first grader.”

Trevor shrugged his shoulders, “Well, she did have to take care of Jacob.  She would always say to me ‘Trevor, I get no sleep taking care of a baby.  I am exhausted and I need my sleep when I can get it.  I need you to be a big boy and get yourself ready in the morning.
’ So, that’s what I did.”

“Did she ask you to help take care of your brother?”

“Not yet.”  He went on, “She kept Jacob in the bedroom with her.  He seemed fine until that one day…”

“What day?”

Trevor felt his eyelid begin to twitch, “The day I came home from school and he was screaming.”

His hands instantly became wet with
sweat and he wiped them on the front of his jeans.  “It was such a weird scream, not like his normal cry.  I ran back to Mom’s bedroom and found him lying in his crib.  His face was all red, and when I picked him up, I noticed his diaper was soaking wet.  I looked over at the bed, but mom wasn’t there.  Then I saw an empty pill bottle on the floor which just seemed weird.  I don’t know why, but I walked around to the other side of the bed…”

He had to get it out; he took a deep breath, “She was there, just lying there on her side.  It looked like she was sleeping but I knew she wasn’t.  I ran out of the room and left Jacob screaming.  I went to the kitchen and dialed 911.  I had learned about it from TV.”

He took another long drink of his water, “I couldn’t go back in the room.  Jacob was screaming so loud, but I couldn’t go back.  I just sat in the kitchen and waited.”

Trevor now notic
ed how much his leg was shaking.   “Finally, the ambulance came and the paramedics rushed into mom’s room.  Then, this nice lady got Jacob out of his crib.  She took my hand and led us out to her car.  She told me we would be staying with another family for a while, just until Mom could get better.”

“Was that
your foster family?”

“
Yeah.  They were nice enough people, but they had three kids of their own.  I just kind of felt like a stranger there, like I didn’t belong.  And I knew we would be going back to mom, so I didn’t want to get too close to them anyway.”

Dr. Fisher nodded, “And how were things after that, after you went back to stay with your mom?”

Trevor tilted the water bottle from side to side, watching the bubbles slosh around inside. 
How were things? 
Could he even put it into words?
 
He would try.

He looked Dr. Fisher straight in the eye, “In one word—Hell.”