A Load of Rubbish - Seamus and the Rats Revenge

Chapter 5 The Bread Bin

“Take it easy there fella,” a voice called out from the side of the street, “what’s the rush? Haven’t you heard speed kills!”

Deep-bellied laughter echoed around the empty street. Seamus slowed his pace. The voice sounded friendly and the road ahead looked pretty dark. He stopped and doubled back. A distant street lamp cast just enough light to make out the strange wooden object beaming at Seamus from the side of the road. It was a sort of box, long and a good bit taller than Seamus. One side of the box was rounded which gave him a bulbous belly. The words “BREAD BIN” were carved into his smooth wooden surface. It looked painful and Seamus had to avoid staring.

“What’s the rush little shoe?” the box smiled.

“I was chased by rats,” Seamus blurted.

“Rats! Are you a little unhinged,” the box laughed, “hasn’t been a single rat around here for a long time…”

“It wasn't just one it was loads of em," Seamus panted, “I just got off the truck and I was looking for Nelson and...”

“Slow down,” the box laughed, “sure you’re just off the truck. It’s the shock of it all. Hallucinating you poor fella! Come on in here, you’ll need something to fix ya up, get your mind straight. I'm Bread Bin, first one's on me fella!”

The Bread Bin raised his semi-rounded belly, casting a gentle glow out onto the cold, street. It warmed Seamus to look at it.

“Go on, go in then,” the Bread Bin invited lifting his lid a little higher.

“Oh… thanks,” Seamus replied hesitating just a second.

“Poor little fella,” the Bread Bin muttered closing the lid slowly behind him.

Inside the Bin was a lot roomier than expected. A homely glow came from a twenty-five watt bulb sitting in the far corner. An old radio, one crushed speaker, crackled music gently in the background, his aerial bent over just a little to accommodate the low roof. A solid glass bottle sat in silence by a counter of neatly stacked sardine cans, which explained the fishy smell. The bottle’s glass was thick and small cracks decorated him in places. Morsels of white paper, the only remains of a ripped label, clung loyally to his side. To the left of the bottle, a half-used roll of toilet paper wrapped round a bent spoon. Behind the counter, another glass bottle, this one tall and slender, was busy serving her varied cast of customers. Seamus approached the counter.

“Velcome to the Bread Bin Café,” the bottle said, in a voice so luxurious it sent a tingle through his sole, “Vould you like somezhing to drink? Ve have vater’s on tap but I’m afraid ve're all out of oil if you're hungry.”

Seamus hesitated; he'd never consciously drunk water before. Of course, he'd been splashed with it in a downpour or accidentally walked through a puddle in the past but nothing serious. There were numerous tales of the horrible effects it had on rubbish. One of the socks in Brian’s house loved when it rained, said it made him forget about his numerous holes. Charlie always warned him of its deadly dangers, ‘eats away at your threads’ he’d say or ‘you don’t want to disintegrate do you?’ was another of his famous lines. He needn't have preached, Seamus was never brave enough to give it a go. The lid of the Bread Bin opened once more as the spoon was leaving and Seamus caught sight of the dark night. He couldn’t go back out there. What if the rats were waiting? He was alone, no Charlie and no home. If ever he needed to forget, tonight was that night.

“Em…yes water’s fine, if you wouldn’t mind” he stuttered.

“I’m Velvet,” the bottle called, as she directed a glass to a piece of tubing perched on top of the sardine cans.

Seamus watched as a wash of water flooded the murky vessel. Shaking, he wrapped his lace around the glass and tipped a little of the liquid over his toe. The crisp, cold seeped into his material. The effects were almost immediate. He giggled self-consciously.

“Zat’ll be two credits then,” Velvet purred.

Seamus went blank.

“Em yes…well…I…” he mumbled.

“First one is on me Velvet, he’s new in town,” the Bin boom around them.

She smiled, winked and walked away. Quickly he picked up the glass for another gulp. His sole now a little wobbly.

“You ok fella?” the toilet roll said, staring straight at him.

“Ya, I’m fine…I think.”

“Velvet's a lot to take in when you first see her. Every fella in town has fallen in love with that bottle,” the roll sighed.

Seamus giggled. He tried to stop but the harder he tried the more he laughed. The toilet roll was getting annoyed.

“You laughing at me?” he snapped.

Seamus laughed even louder this time; he turned his back on the roll to try and stop.

“Insult a fella in his own back yard would ya. Cheeky young upstart, I’ll show you!” the toilet roll said.

He made an uncoordinated surge hitting Seamus firmly on the toe.

“Hold it Andy!” the previously silent bottle interrupted.

Until now he'd been minding his own business at the counter. His sudden words stopped the roll dead.

“This shoe's insulting me Jack! I won’t stand by while some piece of rubbish laughs in me face!”

“Go home and I’ll sort this one out,” Jack said to the fuming roll.

Seamus suddenly stopped laughing, he looked to Velvet for an ally but she appeared be oblivious. He had no friends and he'd made an enemy. First the rats, now this.

Jack led the toilet roll outside. Seamus quickly poured more water over his toe as the lid swung open and Jack walked back in. The bottle returned to his place at the counter. Seamus laces tapped a rhythm on his toe as he waited to be "sorted out".

“I’ll have a water Velvet and one for my friend here,” he said turning to the baffled shoe. “I know what it’s like getting off the truck. It’s a different world here.”

Seamus took the drink not uttering a word.

“I’m Jack by the way”

“I’m Seamus,” he'd found his voice, “and em…thanks.”

Jack gave a nod and resumed his brooding. They sat in silence but it wasn’t awkward there was something comforting about it. Jack appeared lost in thought and Seamus drank deeply busy trying to lose his.