Part 19

Yanick Champoux (7/9/2002)

I popped out of the house faster than an egg out of a strangled chicken. Outside, I was greeted by a particularly disgraceful chiaroscuro of sounds, a discordant mix of defective hydrolic systems, un-oiled transmission and blaring diesel engine.

Far too often, when I was still living with Beth, had I performed the sacrosanct manly part of house duties to ignore what was the source of this cacophony. With dread playing hopscotch with my guts, I dashed across the backward and around the house.

The second I turned the corner of the house, my eyes darted to where driveway had its inevitable and orthogonal meeting with the street. At the junction of those two asphalt-covered vectors, my ocular scouts locked on the object of my immediate quest -- the white trash bag that had been sitting in Beth's kitchen not so long ago. With an acute pang of nostalgia and fondness, I noticed that Beth was still tying her garbage bags with blue ribbons. With diametrically different feelings, I realized that the blue ribbon was hooked on a finger.

It was an ugly finger. A repulsive nest of knuckles and thick, coarse hair. Attached to the the finger was a hand, flat and furry and mottled and dirty as a week-old road-kill. Following that hand was an arm which length and pilosity would have made any ape green with envy. Past the shoulder, it didn't get better. A lantern jaw the color and width of a brick, bloodshot eyes the size of dried raisins and a belly trying to free itself from the confine of a thoroughly stained undershirt were the most appealing characteristics of the trash man I was looking at.

As a private eye, I prided myself to be a good judge of character. And on this particular case, it took me but one nanosecond of deliberation to come with the verdict: whatever this gorilla perceived to be his goal in life, making me happy wasn't it.

Still, I could have been wrong. Appearances can be deceiving, and this grim-covered gorilla hide could have covered a philanthropist soul. Maybe this heinous sneer wasn't a sign of general sign of contempt toward reality itself, but an unfortunate facial predisposition.

So I raised my arm and waved frantically. "Put this down! This garbage ain't no garbage!" I shouted, rather emphatically.

From the distance, I could see the trash man blink and look in my direction. A whole second passed before his brain processed the words his ears had captured. Once his cognitive abilities had performed this feat, his oily sneer turned into a grimace oozing contempt and foul hilarity. His impossibly long arm moved in a long, lazy arc and the blue ribon'ed trash bag went flying into the garbage truck. Issuing a short laugh that sounded like the belch of an asthmatic pig, he hopped on the small platform at the back of the truck and slammed his hand twice on its side. The truck, like an ox made of steel and filth, shuddered and slowly began to roll onward.

"Still, I could have been wrong"... Really, I could be such a brain-dead sucker, sometimes. Having left my piece in Beth's kitchen, the option of shooting down the crapulous primate wasn't available to me. Having no other choice, I leaped forward and dashed toward the truck.

Swift as I was, the truck had an headstart and the advantage of an engine which was able to deliver acceleration in addition of thick, cancerous-black trails of smoke. I ran for a hundred meters or so before slowing down. This was useless. Unless any miracles was to survene, there was no way I could catch up with the trashnapping fiend.

The miracle announced itself with a resounding basso bark. Love! Beth had let him out, and he was now running at me, massive paws pounding the pavement and unending tongue flapping in the wind like the red flag of renewed hope. I shouted my happiness to see the big oaf. As he passed by me, I grabbed two handfuls of his deep fur and jumped on his back. Feeling the vindictive spirit of Valkyries possessing me, I locked my legs around my valorous steed and, pointing at the vanishing garbage truck, bellowed: "Get that truck, boy!".

To be continued...