Cover-up

The Dumpster

A stream of red liquid shot downward in a slight arc, powered by the manual compression of its source container. Although the targeted object, hidden beneath a mountain of French fries, remained unharmed, a younger sister received collateral damage — spots of red catsup splattering her white blouse. The brother's goal of hiding his French Fries under a thick layer of catchup neared completion. With parent's absorbed in conversation, loud rock music blaring, and unsupervised children gone wild -- a perfect combination of ingredients for chaos. Hours later, a half-eaten burger and French fries laden with catchup lay atop the trash in the dumpster out back. The meat had just begun to spoil although one would probably not become sick were they to consume the burger, assuming the presence of a healthy white blood cell count. The toy soldier, however, hiding beneath the mound of French Fries, might cause one to choke to death.

Rolling over onto his back, Sam opened his eyes to darkness. He struggled to wake from a deep sleep. As Sam rose to a sitting position, a half-eaten, catchup-drenched burger slid down the back of his neck. His awareness, however, focused on a repugnant smell of spoiling vegetables and rotting meat. With a scent of death in the air, Sam struggled to collect his thoughts. "Where am I?" He mumbled, but couldn't remember. Focusing on sounds now, Sam picked up distant music vibes and laughter wafting by the open window. Window? Sam tried standing but found the surface lumpy and unsteady. Grabbing the window ledge for support, he peered out of a half-open, sliding metal window to discover an alleyway.

By the smell and his location, Sam suspected he stood inside a large metal trash container. That's when the memories came rushing back. He recalled hiding in the alley earlier that day to await nightfall so he could scavenge the trash bins for food. When the rain began, he had crawled into the trash bin with his pet bunny to get shelter from the rain. And his pet bunny? Sam panicked, "Where's my bunny? Where's my baby bunny rabbit!" In a panic, Sam felt in the darkness for his bunny and soon found it beneath a discarded paper plate loaded with french-fries drenched in catsup. Sam hugged his pet bunny tightly, inadvertently smearing a fair amount of catsup on his shirt and face. He whispered to his pet, "No one will ever take you from me again. No-one!"

...

Sam's fleeting moments of insanity had worsened over the years as those moments grew longer and more predominant. Today, Sam had brief moments of sanity that drove him insane when he realized who he was and what he had become. The insanity shielded him from an unbearable reality. His sole purpose in life now was lurking in the shadows, hiding from the public, and avoiding his reflection. "It's the eye that caused all my problems," Sam often reminisced. He could not forget the young boy's accusing eye from so long ago — the boy who's brain he had accidentally lacerated because of a stifled sneeze. The boy who was brain dead now; possibly bodily dead too, but his eye lived on in the faces of strangers and the reflections in mirrors. The eye knew what he had done. In retribution, the eye watched him every day since the operation. On some days, the eye watched from his face. Other days the eye watched from the faces of passing strangers or magazine covers. The eye glared back at him every time he looked in a mirror, haunting him every day and night for the previous five years. That is until he started avoided people and stopped looking in mirrors.

Sam slide the metal door to the side and started to crawl out the window when he spied a man leaving the backdoor of a tavern across the alleyway. Sam cowered back into the shadows of the trash container and silently watched. The man was apparently drunk and disoriented because he sang with slurred words and had a difficult time walking straight. "He must be lost," Sam thought because the man headed towards his trash bin. When the man neared, Sam ducked his head below the window while looking up and waited for the man to pass. But the man didn't pass. Instead, the man paused, made a deep guttural sound, then leaned his head through the open window and vomited on Sam's upward turned face.

Startled and gasping Sam rubbed the vomit from his eyes and spat it from his mouth. The intoxicated man, shocked by an unexpected occupant of the trash dumpster, stumbled backward a few feet. Sam had to do something. The man had seen him and probably his bunny too. He had to do something before the man took it away; took his bunny away. Sam crawled out of the trash dumpster window, falling to the pavement as he did so. Back on his feet, Sam let loose a primal scream while rushing the man. Sam slammed into him, and they both fell to the pavement. The scuffle was short as Sam subdued the drunken man, who was too drunk to put up much of a fight. Finding a nearby discarded toilet lid, Sam raised it above his head with both hands, ready to strike the man's head. "You will not take my bunny!" Sam yelled at him. He paused for a few additional seconds to relish his forthcoming win.

Right at that moment, his moment of triumph, a stranger pulled Sam off of the drunk man and threw him against the trash dumpster. Sam had only a glimpse of the man before losing consciousness. Sam would recall the following day that the man had come from the shadows and was dirty, smelly, wore tattered clothing, and looked like a homeless man. The homeless man used, as Sam would later describe to the police, Kung Fu moves, like those in the movies.