Hope For Garbage (16 page)

CHAPTER
36

Trevor took a deep breath, “And that’s what happened.”  He slowly looked up at Dr. Fisher, not sure what to expect.

He could see the pity on her face, “Trevor, that was really gutsy.  I’m proud of you.”

His feelings of guilt started creeping in and then the anger, “Proud?  Seriously?  I left those kids to fend for themselves and they died!”

The whole thing was too much.  He felt like he was going to explode.  He stood up from the bench and began pacing.

Then he started yelling, “It’s my fault Dr. Fisher!  Don’t you get it!  I left those kids alone!  I should’ve been there!”
  He fell back onto the bench and lowered his head.

And then
Trevor began sobbing—four years of feelings flowing out of him—an outpouring of bottled up anger, grief, and guilt.   “I wish I was home that day.  I just wish I would’ve died.”

Dr. Fisher put her arm around him, “Here,” she handed him a tissue.  “Trevor, I know you’ve heard this before but this was
not
your fault.  You have to know that. The investigators determined it was a deliberate act by your mother.”

He had to say what had bothered him for years, what he was too afraid to tell anyone. “I’ve gone over this a million times in my head, okay?  When I left, Jacob wanted oatmeal.  He tried to make it himself and turned that stove on—he left it on.  It was my fault!”

Dr. Fisher put her hands on Trevor’s shoulders and turned to face him.  “Look at me Trevor.  I know it’s hard to hear this, but this was only one person’s fault—your mother’s.”

He needed reassurance, “But you don’t understand.  She never got out of bed!  Ever!  She never would’ve turned the stove on.”

She sighed, “Trevor, even if that was the case, it is still your mother’s fault.  It was not your job to raise those children.  It was her job.  Look at me.”

Trevor’s eyes were blurry from the tears but he tried to look her in the face.
He could trust her—he felt it.  For some reason he knew Dr. Fisher wouldn’t lie to him.

“Your mom told you that she loved you.  You said she had never done that before—why that day?  It may very well be the case that she was saying goodbye.”

This thought swirled around in his head.  Could Mom really have done this?  Trevor had always blamed himself—always.

“No.  I mean why didn’t she just take a bunch of pills, like she did last time?  Why this way?  Why would she have to take them with her?  It doesn’t make any sense.  How could she do that to them?  How could she do that to me?”  He searched Dr. Fisher’s face for answers.

“I don’t have an answer for that.  Trevor, your mom was obviously a very ill woman.  No one will ever know what was going through her mind.”  She continued, “Even you will never really know.”

He was hearing what Dr. Fisher was saying, but he just couldn’t find himself to accept it.  Mom was crazy about a lot of things, but to do something like this?  He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“The one thing you have to know is that this is not your fault.  You are the victim in this—the victim.  You’ve endured a childhood that no one should.”  She reached over and grabbed his hand, “And in spite of it all, you’re living a very admirable life.”

The emotions were overwhelming.  He truly didn’t know what to think anymore.

Then Dr. Fisher asked him something that seemed to come out of left field, “Trevor, have you ever thought about why you garbage pick?  I mean, what really motivates you?”

Trevor thought about it, “Well, m
y uncle made me start garbage-picking so I could ‘earn my keep’ and then…”

“And then?”

“And then I guess I liked finding things I could fix—that didn’t have to be thrown away.  It’s better for the environment, you know, less in a landfill.  And I love giving toys to the kids at Haven House.”

The sun was setting over the horizon and people were starting to leave the park.  “And certainly, that is all true.  But I have a theory about your subliminal motivation for
garbage-picking.  You want to hear it?”

“Wow, my subliminal motivation?
”  He actually did want to hear it.  “Sure, okay doc…tell me.”  He was curious now.

“I think when you drive down the street and you see something on the curb, you see more than just garbage.  For example, you see that wheelbarrow, missing a wheel.  You know that all it needs is a new wheel, and it will be like new.
”  She paused, “You know that wheelbarrow isn’t trash, and it doesn’t belong in a dump.  You know that someone, somewhere, will really appreciate that wheelbarrow.  It just needs a little fixing and a new home.”

She put her arm around his shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze.  “That wheelbarrow just needs a chance.
  You are giving that wheelbarrow hope.”

Trevor could feel the emotions swelling up inside of him, “Hope for garbage, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.  Hope for garbage.”

Dr. Fisher
seemed to be able to read him like no one else could.  But weirdly enough, it didn’t scare him.  It only made him feel more comfortable around her.

Now he was totally exhausted, but in a good way.  “Well, thanks a lot for listening to all my stuff.  I guess I kind of wasted your whole day.”

Dr. Fisher smiled, “Absolutely not.  I am so glad we had this talk.  You’ve been really brave.”

As the darkness settled in, the park got quiet and crickets began chirping.  Talking to Dr. Fisher about the past was something he didn’t think he’d ever be able to do.  But now that he had, he felt so much better.

“Well, we should probably be heading back now,” she said.

“Yeah,” Trevor agreed, “And do you think I could ask you for one more favor?”

“Sure Trevor, anything.”

“Do you think you could wheel me over to Lorene’s house?”

CHAPTER
37

Lorene looked around her son Brian
’s room.  The Cleveland Browns posters still covered the walls and his drum set still sat in the corner. She had kept it pretty much how he’d left it when he went off to college—with one big exception—now it was clean.  Hopefully, Trevor would feel at home here.  God knows what kinds of conditions that poor kid had lived in.  He deserved better.

Lorene was excited, but nervous as well.  She had asked Reggie to run to the grocery store and pick up some snacks and things a teenager would like.  Of course she reminded him that Trevor was a vegetarian, so no pepperoni pizza or any of those Slim Jims that Reggie loved so much.

Just then Lorene heard a car pull up out front.  She peeked out the bedroom window but it was only Reggie returning with the groceries.  She hurried downstairs to greet him.  “You need any help hon?”

Reggie put his hands up.  “No, no.  You know the drill.  I’ll bring all of the bags in.  You just put everything away.”

Lorene took the gallon of milk that Reggie was holding and put it in the fridge.  As Reggie put the bags on the kitchen table, Lorene unloaded them.  Reggie might’ve gone a little overboard.  She didn’t know where she was going to put all of this stuff!

She was moving things around in the refrigerator when she felt someone standing behind her.  “You need something out of here Reggie?” she asked over her shoulder.

No answer.  She turned around to find it wasn’t Reggie at all.  Trevor was standing there with a bag of groceries and a smile on his face.  “Hey Lorene.”

She stood up, and without even thinking about it, stretched her arms out in front of her.  “Trevor!  Welcome to our home!”   He gave her a quick hug and she was shocked by how thin and frail he felt.  This boy needed to eat!  “Hon, you sit right there at that table.  I am going to make you a late snack!”

He didn’t look very interested.  “I just ate a little bit ago.  I’m not really hungry, just tired.”

It was his first night there, so Lorene decided not to push it.  “Okay.  Why don’t I show you around real quick?  Then you can get some sleep.”

He yawned, “That sounds great. Thanks.”

***

“Trevor!   Wake up!”  He could feel someone shaking his shoulder as he slowly opened his eyes.  Everything was out of focus at first.  Finally he was able to make out Lorene, standing above him with a big smile on her face.

“What time is it?” he asked groggily.

She walked over to the window and cranked the blinds open.  “I’m sorry hon.  I never would’ve woken you but I thought for sure you’d be up by now.  It’s almost 1:30 and I told Carol Sorak she could come over.  She’s been taking care of your dog for you.”

Jip! 
Trevor sat up in bed and shielded his eyes from the light.  He couldn’t wait to hug the little guy.  “Are you sure it will be okay to have Jip here?”

She smiled, “Of course.  Reggie and I have had a few dogs in our time, so we know what to expect. Besides, I know how much he means to you.  It will be fine.”

She paused by the door, “Oh and there are towels in the tall cabinet next to the sink.  And I made you some homemade mac and cheese—the good stuff, not that Kraft junk.  It’s in the fridge.”

“Okay, thanks.”  Lorene was being unbelievably nice.  He wasn’t used to this.

Once she was out of the room, Trevor pulled himself out of bed and headed for the shower.  He stood under the hot water, trying to wash away some of the sleepiness.  It wasn’t working. 

Maybe eating something some would help.  He went down to the kitchen and got the mac and cheese out of the
fridge.  He popped it in the microwave and poured himself a glass of milk.  He was sitting down at the table when he heard a dog bark out front. 
Jip!

He dropped his fork and ran out the front door.  Bef
ore he could step off the porch Jip was in his lap, yelping and licking his face frantically.  “Okay boy, okay…”  Tears were forming in Trevor’s eyes.  He couldn’t help it.  This was their dog, his and Mr.T’s.  The licking and whimpering continued as Trevor buried his face in Jip’s fur.  “I missed you too.”

“Hello Trevor.”  He hadn’t even noticed Carol Sorak standing there.  She was smiling, but there was sadness in her eyes.

Trevor stood up, putting Jip on the ground.  “Hey Carol.”

She put her arms out and
hugged him, squeezing him hard.  They were both missing Mr.T.  “How are you holding up?” she asked.

Trevor noticed her eyes watering, and he only hoped she didn’t lose it right there.  He knew that if she started crying, he would start crying too.  “Okay, I guess.  It’s really nice being here, with Lorene.”

Carol nodded, “She seems like a really nice lady.”

“Hey thank you so much for taking care of Jip.  I was so relieved when they told me he was with you.  I can’t thank you enough.”

“Oh that was nothing.  He was no trouble at all.”  She smiled down at Jip who had not left Trevor’s side. “Hey guess what else I brought ya?”

Trevor only hoped she was talking about one thing.

She walked back to the car, opened the door and pulled out a silver pot so big, she could barely get her arms around it.  Trevor rushed to her aid and grabbed the pot out of her hands.

He could already feel his stomach grumbling as
the familiar aroma rose from the pot. “Cabbage and noodles?” he asked with a smile.

“Yep, the one and only.”

“Two things that can make me happy no matter what—Jip and Cabbage & Noodles.  Thanks so much Carol.  For everything.”

She
put her hands on Trevor’s shoulders, “Just promise me you will come by the diner once in a while.  I know it’s a little out of your way now, but I’d still like to see my favorite patron.  You hear?”

“I promise.”

She gave him another hug and then Carol walked back to her car.

He
turned to make his way back to the house when Jip started barking like crazy.  Trevor looked over his shoulder to see what the dog was yapping about.

Just as Carol pulled away, a black sedan pulled up in the driveway.  Trevor stood like a statue, holding the giant pot in front of him.

As the car door opened, he felt his grip slipping on the pot.  Out came Investigator O’Donnell, a.k.a. the man-in-black.

CHAPTER 38

Tr
evor set the pot down on the grass and wiped his hands on his jeans.  What the hell did he want?

The man-in-black wasn’t wearing black this time.  He approached Trevor wearing khakis, a blue button-down, and a big smile on his face.  “Hi Trevor, I have some good news for you.”

As Investigator O’Donnell stood in front of him, Trevor realized he wasn’t very tall.  In fact, he was shorter than Trevor.  As a kid, the man-in-black had seemed like a giant.  And from the hospital bed, he had seemed much more intimidating.  Not so much today; he looked more like Trevor’s history teacher.

“Good news.  Really?”  Trevor was surprised at how calm his own voice sounded.

“Yeah, I just heard on the wire that they caught your uncle.  Someone spotted his truck at a roach motel in southern Indiana.  They apprehended him about an hour ago.”

Mixed emotions swirled around inside Trevor.  He was happy they caught the bastard, but he really didn’t want to deal with all the legal bullshit that would be coming down soon.  “That’s good,” Trevor said.

“I bet you’re relieved.”

Did he think Trevor was afraid of the fat-ass? 
“Relieved?  Not really, just glad the asshole will get what’s coming to him.”

Investigator O’Donnell nodded, “Well I’m sure the police will be contacting you shortly.”  He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper.  “I also wanted to give you something.”

He held the paper in front of Trevor, “Before you read this, you need to know that there is someone out there who really cares about you.  I could get into deep shit here, but you have a very persuasive friend.”  He handed the paper to Trevor, “Anyway, I think this may clarify some things for you.  And if you have any questions, my numbers on there.”  He handed a business card to Trevor, and turned to leave.

“Uh, thanks.”  Trevor felt a twinge of anxiety creep into his gut.

As Investigator O’Donnell got in his car and pulled away, Trevor slowly opened the folded up piece of paper. Large black lettering across the top of the paper read:

OFFICIAL FINDINGS: Case 54792-b        09/2010        MCNULTY, PAULA

The twinge of anxiety spread like a wave that sent his heart racing and his palms sweating once again.  He crumpled up the paper and shoved it in his pocket.

He ran into the house, not looking back.  With his stomach in knots, he forgot all about the pot of cabbage and noodles sitting on the front lawn.

***

Trevor sat on the edge of his bed and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.  He took a deep breath.  He desperately wanted to know what happened in his house that day, but he was so afraid.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember what Dr. Fisher had said to him, “This was not your fault.”

Screw it.
  He slowly opened the paper and began reading:

It is the official finding of this investigation that the fire was started by a gas explosion from the gas stove in the kitchen.  It is determined the gas leaked for an extended period of time where occupants were aware of leak because breathing would have become difficult.  It is determined that ignition occurred in close proximity to gas stove (within 1-2 feet).  The fire was ignited by a small flame source, and given supporting case evidence, the source was likely a lighter, match, or lit cigarette.  Based on burn patterns and body location, all three victims appeared to be in close range of explosion at time of ignition, with adult female closest to the source of ignition. All windows and doors in the home appeared to be locked from the inside.  It is highly unlikely the ignition was accidental, as occupants would have left residence because of lack of oxygen.

The official conclusion of this investigation is as follows:  Fire was started by intentional gas leak and intentional ignition of leak, by one Paula McNulty.

The official ruling of this investigation: Double homicide; suicide.

Trevor stared down at the paper, his eyes focused on one phrase that was highlighted in bright yellow marker
:  with adult female closest to source of ignition.

Mom did
it.  She was right by the stove—she was out of bed.  She let the gas run until they couldn’t breathe, and she locked them in.

Trevor suddenly felt som
ething lurch inside his stomach, a sickening realization of what mom had done.  It was too much to take. 
No, no, no...

“No!” he
screamed.

He ran to the bathroom and threw his body over the toilet.  His body heaved up and down until eve
ry bit of gut-wrenching vomit was finally expelled.  Trevor laid his head on the seat of the toilet and closed his eyes.

“No, mom, no.” Then he collapsed into a heap of sobs.