Garbage

Part 13

– I see you’re happy – get cakes and ale, – the newcomer said with malice.

We walked near the restaurant’s fire exit, where large trash cans were lined up.

I had left the restroom and slipped through the kitchen toward the emergency exit – no one else needed to hear our conversation.

There were no sharp pins hidden in my hair, but I had stolen a small knife from a chef’s table. I haven’t even forgotten how to protect myself.

– Tell me, does the poor man know who you really are? – the newcomer asked.

– I told him everything.

– Don’t bullshit me again! I know exactly what you’ve done! Every word out of your mouth is crap! Have you ever told the truth in your life? If anyone has ever enjoyed life being around you, you sure as hell never told them anything!

He wasn’t just angry. This wasn’t about simple revenge. He was breaking down.

If the Creaker found out about the drugs, the newcomer wouldn’t escape a brutal beating.

– What do you want?

– What a stupid question! Didn’t you read my poster?

– You’re not deaf!

– Of course, I am! Especially when you start rolling at my feet and begging for forgiveness.

– For what? For how you set me up and threw me to the wolves?

– You stole our money, and I tried to save it! So what does it matter whose dick you’re sucking? It is your passion, isn’t it?

He actually believed what he was saying, but the cough ripped through me from the inside.

“Blood. More than last time”.

– Cut the act! Are you trying to pull the same stunt as you did with Billy? Save your pretty mouth for your husband! Just pay up! Or the poor rich guy will get all the details of your pathetic life!

– I’m wearing a wedding dress. Where do you think I’m hiding money?

– Shut up! I see a nice little piece of jewelry around your neck, – the newcomer sneered, reaching for my pendant.

The next moment, he was already on the ground, rolling in the filth. A small knife was sticking out of his hand. He had knocked over the trash cans, spilling garbage all over himself. The putrid liquid spread quickly, soaking into his clothes.

– Remind me again – who was supposed to be groveling?

– Fuck you, witch! Why didn’t you just drop dead back then? Billy should’ve killed you, you insatiable monstrosity!

– Be grateful I didn’t kill you, you drug-addicted loser! If you come near my family again, I’ll tell the Creaker all about your little hobby.

I hoped my threat would work – the old leader of the homeless gang despised drugs. Anyone caught using it was punished severely, sometimes even cast out completely. It was the law.

But instead of looking scared, the guy started laughing hysterically.

He laughed and cried at the same time, shaking for what felt like minutes, while I tried to figure out what the hell was happening. Then, suddenly, he went silent.

When he stood up, his clothes were a disaster – dirty, soaked in filth. The kind of man parents warn their children about in horror stories.

And yet, he grinned.

– You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about. While you were screwing around with different lovers, the gang almost completely turned over. Everything changed – flipped upside down. You came back and ruined our world.

A bad feeling twisted in my gut.

– The Creaker is dead. And it’s all your fault.

***

What the hell is going on? Why does the secretary walk on all fours before my Daddy?

I remain hidden in the bedroom, concealed behind the heavy red velvet curtain.

How much time is needed for my Dad to kick these hornets away? I’m cold, wearing nothing but the pendant Daddy gave me as a gift. Even the gauzy negligee by Susan Rosen doesn’t help keep me warm. I’ll get sick like this!

But why does everything always happen the same way? It’s unfair!

I never imagined my birthday night would turn out like this!

When Daddy comes to me, I’ll…

– Did you find me a fox?

– Yes, sir, – one of the assistants reports.

– Who is she? – Daddy asks routinely.

– A homeless girl. Nobody will look for her after… – but the assistant’s voice is impatient.

– Hmm? So is it a pariah dog? It’s not tasty!

– My apologies!

– Next time deliver me that bitch because of which I lose my money!

– You mean the woman whose child is ill?

– Why do you force me to spell it out? – Right now, Daddy is irritated. That's not good.

The secretary is still rolling at Daddy’s feet. He is a foolish man and makes me angry, but what is the reason he is sorrowful?

Daddy said “fox.” What did he mean to the animals? We had never kept pets. My mom is always closed in her room, and she doesn't take any decisions. Dad doesn’t like anything dirty, so animal hair everywhere in our house was annoying for him.

Maybe he is going on a traditional hunt?

– But how do we deal with… – the assistant’s voice broke.

– With her child? – Daddy replied. – Clean out the garbage! Just proclaim to other workers that the kid with his mother was sent away for long-term treatment. That piece of news is helping you to calm down the protesters. Deal with the instigators as you see fit!

– I'll see to it!

– Great! When will I see a homeless dog?

– In a few minutes, sir, – It seems the assistant is trying to help the trembling secretary to his feet – that man can’t stand up himself.

– The party was so irksome! I was glad to know the old doll was broken and can’t have children anymore! I will not take part in any more of anyone's celebrations, – A chair creaked – Daddy is going to leave his cabinet.

The moment that I was waiting for all my birthday evening arrived.

I crawled under the bed while Dad was stretching himself out in his rich bed, waiting for a “fox.”

I lay on the unbearably cold floor, my mind blank.

When somebody brought a “fox” into the room, I could see her ankles. They were scrawny and shaking noticeably. Dad ordered her to come.

Then I understood why the woman was called “fox.” It was a hunt and my Dad played the role of a hunter.

The woman screamed, cried, and struggled. Nobody came to the noise.

At one point, the “fox” broke out. She tried to hide under the bed.

I met her deformed bloodied face. I couldn’t tell whether she had once been beautiful – only that her eyes burned with terror and a wild, desperate will to survive.

I didn’t know what she saw when she met my gaze in the darkness, but the next moment the sparkle was lost. She made a wry face and sneezed oddly. I got a whiff of the hellish smell of garbage.

The “fox” allowed to be pulled out from under the bed. Soon screams died down – only the dull sounds of blows remained.

The last thing I heard was a hideous, rattling gasp.

I didn’t cry, didn’t pray – I didn’t breathe. I knew for sure if I moved, sighed, or teared up, the hunter would immediately find me, his new “fox.”

I imagined that all that happened was a night-hag – a play of my mind – and the next second I would awake and the brute would disappear!

My body was frozen. I had already felt neither my arms nor my legs. There was a host of my phantasms! Had to be…

I saw only one thing clearly – the moment I was found.

I didn’t have to wait long.

The big blue eyes of the pursuer appeared from the dark. Red venation in them tells me how the enemy is wolfing down.

I had never known anything more dangerous or dreadful than the eyes!

The “fox” is cornered – you think she’s dead.

Part 14

– Dear, would you be so kind as to draw me a hot bath? I stink! – I drop on the sofa prostrate straight onto dirty clothes.

– Where have you been?! – Oliver growls. – I was searching for you everywhere! I called around hospitals! I contacted the police! I was losing my mind when you were gone!

I look over Oliver – he is flushed and disheveled, he was truly alarmed when I disappeared – his fair anger doesn’t worry me. I want to eat and sleep.

It’s interesting, how many days in a row would I sleep?

– Are you glum because our honeymoon in Paris has expired? You dreamed…

– Fuck the Paris! – he bawls.

I shrug. Honestly, I agree with Oliver – fuck Paris!

I am sitting on the living room sofa while my husband is pacing the floor before me.

A huge TV set is showing some news – some street reporter silently tells us about city incidents. Obviously, the channel has been on for a few days – Oliver hoped to find me in some news. It is so stupid and so cute!

– What happened to you? Why are you wearing those dishrags? What happened to Grandma’s dress?

– I burned it!

– W-what? Why?!

– It was stained with blood and was inconvenient to dig a grave in, – I don’t have the strength to make up a beautiful story, so I tell the truth. Hmm, it turns out that it is so enjoyable and so easy – to tell the truth!

– “To dig a grave”? “Blood?” Are you nuts?! Or is it your habit to lie?

Oliver is in a fury – he has never spoken to me in such a low tone before. What changed while I wasn't here? That’s for sure – it’s his mother, the old bat tried her best!

We took a dislike to each other as soon as we met – two peas in the same pod. She keeps some secrets, and they connect with her family – her children are too different – maybe Oliver was conceived from another man? Anyway, the old bat won’t calm down while someone comes closer to her son.

– My mom hired a detective to find out some facts about you, – Oliver looks a little guilty.

A week ago, the statement could have made me feel terrible – I had to keep my past a secret.

But not today. I am ready to face everything.

– The detective said you weren't born in the city, you didn’t lose your parents in a car accident, you had never studied with my sister! I read your chat correspondence – you asked your former lovers in detail about Cambridge. You beguiled my poor sister, who believed in you! She is heartbroken! You bluffed your whole biography – Honey Davidson didn't exist! Mom is sure you are a black widow. – He is fearful.

Through the jumping pictures on the TV screen, I catch a mini-plot about a fire accident in the industrial area. According to a news ticker, the fire started with an illegally constructed retail outlet.

“The owner was arrested by the police for violation of safety regulations and conducting illegal business. Also, the man is suspected of buying stolen goods.”

Memories of how I came back there time after time hoping to persuade the dealer – the old rogue grinning – to sell me my pendant for a lower price refresh in my head.

If his fucking store went straight to hell, I wouldn’t be too sad!

Ignorance is heavy, I know it. But I also know that knowledge can be soul-deadening.

– Who are you? Did you ever love me? Please, tell me the truth! – Oliver clearly prefers to hear a “fairy tale” that helps him be happy as a prince again.

My husband wasn’t ready, but he made a mistake following his inquisitiveness. He swore to never hurt me and never reproach my past. Is he ready to carry the burden of knowledge about me?

Anyway, I don’t forgive garbage men like him.

– There was just one person who I loved in my damn life. And you aren't him. Love is too dangerous!

– I don’t believe you! Why did you agree to marry me?

– I found a careless life with someone – no difference who he would be. You took back my pendant, so I had no choice.

– I gave you everything because I love you! If it’s not a lie, why did you go with a deaf man? Is he threatening you, or is he your lover?

– That guy isn’t deaf. He is homeless. He came to tell me that one very important person is dead. This was because of my chicken heart. I had been running for too long. A lot of people became victims.

– What are you talking about? Who? Whose victims?

Behind Oliver’s back, the TV screen starts to show a big interview – big noises get comments about a row of riots and arson attacks throughout the city. Of course, the same questions weren't avoided… him.

The Prime Minister is being answered by journalists.

– I asked you about serious things! Why are you watching TV? – my husband is impatient.

– Five years ago I ran away from home. My Daddy turned out to be a monster. By the way, meet him!

– Where? – Oliver takes a step back and swallows.

– There he is, – I point my finger at the screen.

Oliver is stunned in shock for a few seconds, then turns to me with fury.

– Your father is… Are you kidding me? My mom was right! Everybody in this country knows that the Prime Minister doesn't have a daughter!

– Nobody in this country knows what my Daddy is capable of if he wants!

Nightmares have been pursuing me since the day I got out from under Dad's bed and found the dead fox – she was strangled. I almost don't remember what happened there later except for my pendant. My memories began after meeting with Goombah. He was my angel – he always made me wake up if I was stuck in a nightmare for too long.

(“– Remind me your name! – he asked me when we arrived at his den for the first time.

– My name is Honey!

– Great! Forget the past forever for your safety!”)

Since that moment, Goombah started my “homeless education.”

Part 15

I am coming home – my home.

I haven't had a shower since the morning of my wedding. How many days have passed? It seems it’s the fifth night.

There is a bedroom community with expansive accommodations. It looks a bit safer. I haven't met anybody yet. Only music is spreading from one of the blocks.

“When you were here before,

Couldn't look you in the eye,

You're just like an angel…”

Does someone have a party? Ha! The City of the Plague by John Wilson! The same as me and my fucking wedding!

Everywhere smells like burning – mass pogroms are ravaging the city. It seems like an infection – violence has engulfed area after area.

The Prime Minister announced new laws about massive street cleanings of garbage: stray pets, illegal refugees, beggars, and the homeless have to leave their shelters – the government called them “hellholes” and “crack-dens” – and surrender to the police or be beaten to death.

Squads with “cleaners” have been sent to the streets – to overcome the resistance. There are gangs of murderers, like Billy’s, who enjoy “fox” hunting and don’t consider them human.

A lot of people have already suffered.

The Creaker was one of the first. He came out and tried to reach an agreement. After that, he lost. His body wasn’t found – only traces of blood and bits and pieces of his clothes. It happened at the end of winter in the city's garden. There were no witnesses.

The Creaker’s gang lost all protection and fell apart. Freddy-wulf didn’t want to be “the fox” and joined drug pushers. Freddy’s flunkies – including the newcomer – did the same.

– I owe Freddy. He got me out of the ass of the devil and taught me to survive on the streets. Now Freddy is looking out for me, – the young man said wisely. – I heard you were the same, “wife.” This business was the last chance to break free…

He was wrong. The goombah had never pushed me toward certain death.

The gleanings of the Creaker’s mates became gleanings, and then takers.

Where are the other homeless? Whether anyone is alive or not – the newcomer didn’t know.

– How did you survive after jumping into that crap? – the newcomer asked about the incident in the tunnels.

– I woke up in a hospital. I found out from a nurse that I was saved by the city’s river fishermen. I was in a coma for three days. Of course, they didn’t find any documents, so they called the police. I had no choice but to run away. The end! – I didn’t evade the truth. – And you?

– Billy had no time for me then, – the newcomer grinned, – so I just skedaddled!

– Did he stay alive?

– Unfortunately, yes. And became even more bloodthirsty – now he is a motherfucking legend!

– I got it, – I wasn’t a murderer, but I hadn’t understood yet what I was supposed to feel about it.

– Freddy said everything was your fault – The Head brought the slush fund to you so he couldn’t bribe his way out of trouble to protect the gang, – the newcomer said.

– Probably Freddy is right, – I shrugged. I had no objection.

– I think not all of them are yours, – he said. – That money would never have stopped Billy!

We don’t know what would have happened, – I could add but remained silent.

– Tell me your name! – the newcomer asked unusually gently.

– Michela, – I spelled it as if I hadn’t forgotten it.

– Beautiful name! What will you do next, Michaela?

– I will track down the Creaker.

“But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here…”

In the city of living people with dead souls, I had been searching for one person worthy of living for some days, through hospitals and morgues. Among all the unidentified corpses, not one had the same outstanding features as my goombah's godfather – tall stature and strength, not typical of old people.

One of the policemen I had bribed recalled an unusual corpse.

I dug up the body in a medical institute – as a skinjob.

The Creaker was prepared for experimental purposes for young students. It seemed the old man had an excellent physique. I got him together piecemeal – doctors had cut his liver and pancreas. It cost me a huge sum of money. I could have stolen the organs, but I decided I would do everything properly, as if with a normal person. The Creaker had to be laid to rest properly.

– He reminded me of the days when I had just entered medical college, – the sketchy doctor who sold me the body suddenly drifted into a story. – That year, one course was taught by a very famous chirurgeon. He was a legend, the best blade in the city. He was huge, like a bear – just like your guy – but particularly caring with patients. The waiting list for admission stretched for years. But the legend dusted… because of an accident during surgery. Since then, he quit his career and became disillusioned. There were rumors he hit rock bottom. What was the surgeon’s name? Hmm. I can’t remember! See – I already have gray hairs. Much water has flowed under the bridge since then! Be over!

The rest of the money went towards the funeral. I bought the cheapest spot in the local cemetery in the area where he had lived most of his life – near the city bridge and the river.

I had never known the facts about his real life – even his true name – so the tombstone had understated words:

“The master who concluded life to nurture angels.”

To lower the Creaker and fill his grave – I did that myself. The money was finished – I couldn’t sell my pendant any more profitably. After that, I said a couple of prayers over the grave – whatever I could remember. I don’t believe in God, but I didn’t want the devil troubling the Creaker.

I had the last deal.

Since my childhood, I remember the name of the magazine that ruined my Daddy. This particular newspaper wrote about scandals related to strikes at facilities Daddy managed, which Nick called fake news.

I figured out the editor’s name. My deal was to send him my secret. It was so tiny that it fit easily into a postal envelope.

I threw the envelope into a mailbox and headed toward my home.

“She’s running out again,

She’s running out,

She’s run, run, run, running out…”

I step as if I’m drunk. All that protected and supported me has disappeared.

I had been keeping my heavy secret for so long!

Jig’s up!

I just want to come home.

It’s too quiet… or is it just me?

– Who’s there? Show yourself!

No one answers, but my instincts have never failed me.

I decide to slow my steps. Somehow, I know running would only make things worse.

I stop. I hear rustling in the bushes, then silence again. Whatever it is, it's not here to be friendly.

Finally, a shadow slowly emerges from the darkness. The shadow of a massive shaggy dog. Obviously, it was driven away from another area. It is wounded or seriously sick. White foam drips from its mouth. I’ve seen a frantic fox, so I recognize those same berserk eyes.

I start to back away. My hand moves toward the hidden knives. I stole them from the medical institute.

I’m sure the beast will attack, but how and when?

If I survive the night, it'll be a miracle.

“Whatever makes you happy,

Whatever you want,

You're so fuckin' special…”

What was I living for? What is the meaning of my existence? Is there a little piece of truth in a life full of lies?

The dog and I – we are fighting each other to live. We are equal – strained to the limit.

Blood rises to my throat. The beast senses my weakness and springs.

The damn wedding dress will save me. When the dog caught my hand, it couldn’t bite through the heavy lace of Oliver’s grandmother. So I will use my free hand and beat it with the knives.

“But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo,

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here…”

Tonight, I will bury one more part of me with a homeless dog.

***

– Did you hear me? Where are you looking? You’re playing with me, aren’t you? – Oliver stopped pacing in front of me and stormed out, slamming the door.

He’ll come back in the morning. Despite the arguments of logic and the persuasions of the old bat – my foolish husband will return. He’s never lost his home – the frosts of the city will hunt him down soon. And unlike me, he will forgive me.

Why do I think so? Hot water is almost filling the bath.

I haven’t spent a single dollar from my husband’s bank account – the path of locusts has lost its value.