Recollection Of Questionable Events

One's Man Garbage.

(7) One Man’s Garbage:

Araceli Torre

 

Fifteen minutes my butt.

Lieutenant Riggs and Cesar had been gone for almost an hour. That type of behavior might be the norm for my lazy cousin, but I didn’t expect it from Riggs…especially since I still hadn’t been given a reason for my arrest (or at least not one that made sense).

For their safety, I hoped they were on their way though. Ten minutes after they’d left on ‘break’, my stomach had started growling...very loudly. I felt ravenous and seriously considered eating my nails off.

Defeated, I rested my head on the table, letting my mind daydream about the perfect meal. My first love would always be cheeseburgers, but I’d be ok with any of my mom’s cooking right about now.

Lasagna or chiles rellenos or pozole or…

My free hand had been busy tracing circles on the cool surface, slowly moving downwards towards the underside of the table. I didn’t need to look to know something unpleasant had been stuck to the bottom, but I did anyway.

Gum. Old, disgusting, chewed gum.

I contemplated the pros and cons of eating used gum, when the smell of pepperoni filled the room. I eagerly looked up, hoping that Cesar had finally returned with my food.

I’d reached the hallucination stage, because the door never opened. After staring at the door for a few minutes (expecting someone to barge in), I reluctantly returned my attention to the gum.

My hand inched its way towards the gum.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I said, pretending to stretch my hands. Cesar stood in the doorway, nonchalantly carrying a large box from Gino’s.

“Pizza?” Cesar asked, as he placed the food in front of me.

“I could eat a slice,” I responded calmly, keeping my happiness stifled.

Riggs walked in after Cesar, making a face at the pizza.

“I’d like to talk about the garbage next, so eat quickly,” he said.

“Marbage?”

 “Yes.”

“I thought you didn’t want to know,” I said.

“Changed my mind, so let’s talk about garbage.”

“If you say so,” I muttered as I picked up another slice.

I stomped alongside Monica, shivering every few seconds and verbally expressing my unhappiness with the situation. Even with all the clues, she still didn’t understand that I wanted to go home.

I tried to control my anger, since the walk had been my idea.

The day had started like any other Saturday morning in the Torre household, complete with hyper-active kids running amok, and old cackling women in the kitchen. The noise level could burst anyone’s eardrums, and the little monster’s messes would destroy anyone’s sanity.

“Hey Ari, does that look like garbage to you?”

Monica stood a few feet away from me, circling ten large black garbage bags that sat on the curb of a very large house. She stopped near the bags, and studied them from a safe distance, not unlike a vulture.