Hope For Garbage Read Free

beautiful friendship.”
    “Jip!”  The reminiscing was over.  Tom’s thoughts were interrupted by a loud yell from outside, “Jip!”  Then came a shrill whistle, and Jip’s ears instantly shot up.  Tail wagging, the dog ran to the back door and began barking.
    Tom looked out the kitchen window.  Trevor was running through the backyard, yelling for his dog.  The kid burst through the back door, soaking wet and out of breath.  He stood in the doorway, hunched over with his hands on his knees.  Rain water dripped from his saturated clothes, quickly forming little puddles on the linoleum floor.  He did not look happy.
    “Wow Mr.T this was a great day for a bike ride” he said.  “I think I’ll be able to feel my fingers again in a few hours.”  Trevor picked up Jip and the dog began licking his face like it was a slab of bacon. 
    Trevor took off his wet socks and shoes and Tom quickly walked over and picked them up, “Oh quit your whining.  It’s not that bad.  You’ll defrost.  Here, take off that shirt too.  You can wear one of mine.”  Then he added, “Keep your skivvies on though—I’m not giving you those.”
    Tom went down to the basement and threw the kid’s clothes in the dryer.  When he came back up, Trevor was lying on the couch wearing one of Tom’s favorite t-shirts.  It was black with white lettering across the front that said ‘My wild oats have turned to shredded wheat’.  Jip was curled up next to him and the television was off.
    Tom took a seat in his La-Z-Boy and put his feet up.  Sadly, one trip up the basement stairs was enough to aggravate his bunions.  “So how did it go?” he asked.
    Trevor’s eyes were closed, “Same as always…it was fine.”
    “What color was she wearing today?” Tom provoked.
    “Black.  It’s always something exciting like brown or black.”
    At least the kid had a sense of humor.  Tom smiled as they sat together in the quiet room.  Other than Jip’s panting, the ticking of the grandfather clock was the only sound. Outside noises and distractions weren’t needed when they were together.   Neither of them were big fans of TV, and Trevor didn’t have any of those high-tech gadgets all the kids were carrying around these days.  Tom did get the kid a basic cell phone—that was a necessity.   But, talk, or no talk, they were completely comfortable just ‘being’ with each other.
    This after-school routine had pretty much stayed the same over the last couple of years.  Trevor seemed to avoid the inside of his uncle’s house as much as possible.  The kid would probably go work in his garage until dinner time.  Then he would come back to Tom’s for a lowly frozen dinner, usually macaroni and cheese.  Neither of them had any desire to cook, no matter how many orange boxes they went through in a week.  After dinner, the kid would head back over to his garage and work into the night.  And when Tom went to bed, he would always see the light from the garage window, glowing in the darkness.
    “Hey, I met an old friend of yo urs today.  I think her name is Carol—at Sorak’s diner.  She told me to say ‘Hi’ and tell you to stop by sometime.  She’s, uh…interesting.”
    Tom remembered her.  He hadn’t seen Carol Sorak in a long time, not since Maddie’s funeral.   “Yeah I did some work for Carol at the diner a few times, years ago.  She had an old fryer that kept breaking down.”  Tom was an electrician by trade and had learned to fix almost anything through the years.
    “Well, she said you guys dated in high school,” Trevor teased.
    Tom felt his face getting hot.  “What?  No, we went on a date once I think.  Maybe the drive-in?  Geez, I can’t remember.  That was over fifty years ago!”  He could hear the kid snickering over on the couch.  “Dated my ass…” he muttered.  “Oh, so now you’re Carol’s gossip buddy, huh?”
    Trevor laughed, “No!  Are you kidding me?  I just went in