MARIEL

5~ The Dumpster Man ~

First, came the smell. A stench, really. Like rotten eggs, milk, and fish. Cat litter?

Second, came the auditory perception. The occasional car engine. A few, muffled voices.

Third, came a slow sense of feeling. The tingling sensation felt like a gentle cramp that slowly worked its way from the bottom to the top. Gradually, it became more intense.

Fourth, came sight... his eyelids fluttered open. But, it was dark. It was an enclosure of some sort... something that was too short for his long legs, which were twisted in an awkward position.

He tried to speak. A muffled sound came out of his mouth, which felt very dry. He tried to move, but the neurons firing in his brain were not yet ready to communicate with the rest of his body. But, he wanted to move, to leave this horrendous, black pit. There had to be some way to figure out how to move his body again.

Also, it was unbearably cold.

An engine approached, roaring. Steadily, as its sound grew louder, the enclosure in which he lay began to vibrate a little.

Suddenly, he was concerned. He had no idea where he was, he was certain it was nowhere good, and a monstrous sounding piece of equipment was becoming louder by the second. Within seconds, he heard tires squeal to a halt next to the enclosure.

'Come on,' he thought. 'Move your body. Just move your body.'

He moved his fingers... good. That was a good start, but he had a feeling he needed to move larger limbs at a much faster pace, and soon. His shoulder twitched, and then his leg. Then, the enclosure shook, violently, and he heard a loud beeping noise.

'You've got to be kidding me,' he thought. Finally, adrenaline shot through his limbs and he struggled to sit up. Wet, icy particles of goo stuck to him as he scrambled to his knees and thrust his hands against the top of what he was certain was the lid to a dumpster.

The lid came up. He saw his breath in the cold air. Shuddering, he squinted at the daylight, and then the front-load garbage truck lifted the dumpster into the air.

The dumpster shook again, and the lid snapped shut as all center of gravity fled him. Violently, his body jolted back against the wall.

"Stop, wait!" he managed to roar, and lunged up again. Quickly, he slammed his hands against the lid and it flapped open. Freezing air and wind struck his face as he threw his arms over the ridge of the dumpster and struggled upwards. His eyes were wide as the front loaders raised him into the air towards the garbage compactor. Clinging to the ridge, he threw a leg over it and straddled it just as he met the eyes of the garbage man. "Stop it!"

The bearded garbage man, who sat in the driver's seat with a cigarette hanging lazily from the corner of his mouth, screamed. It was high-pitched. Aggressively, the driver slammed his hand against the switch to stop the truck from sending the load into the trash compactor.

Suspended in the air, the man in the dumpster took a breath and flung the other leg over the ridge. Steadily, he lowered himself onto the top of the truck cab. His legs wobbled and he held out his arms to find his balance. For a moment, he wobbled there, frowning, trying to remember how to use his legs. Then, he approached the edge of the cab.

The driver opened his door.

Startled, the dumpster man slipped at the edge of the cab. Wind whistled in his ears as he fell. With a cry, he struck the icy pavement on his side and his head bounced against the cold, snow-covered, cement. He groaned and, for a moment, simply lay there.

The truck driver knelt beside him and touched the man's shoulders, but he was speaking in a foreign language that the dumpster man could not understand. Certainly, he was apologizing, asking if he was okay, but the dumpster man could not accurately determine the truck driver's actual words.