After a while, we got accustomed to the new environs and we thought it was now ripe to meet and establish some relations with the neighbours. Our first encounter happened announced. Actually, it occurred so fast that it left a stench of suspicion hanging over our residing place.
You see, I sometimes take out garbage during my nightfall strolls. After the garbage men decided to “dump garbage” in anticipation of a raise I had to do it often. The solution is a dumping space located further away from our area to avoid the stench from polluting our homes. As expected, only useless heaps of items collected there, we assumed.
My main contribution was empty bottles of Eskimos. They were of no value to me but it was treasure to some. Those souls, who ventured at the dumps, collected and flogged them at nearby taverns for a few crown. As we approached the site, something wriggled amongst the filthy. I was shaken. The Longlets screamed for mercy. I concluded it was a rabid dog or even a rattle ready to strike. My assumptions were all wrong as the Longlets shouted: “There is someone in the garbage.” They were right.
A figure suddenly emerged from the heap charging towards us. As he approached, a swarm of flies followed him. Actually he attracted them. The man, as I discovered later, released a stink that could relegate ammonia as a lipstick formula. His clothes, told it all. My mind was spinning. Could he be the man they said was responsible for the deaths around the area? For a moment, I thought we had met our marker.
“I will take that if you don’t mind,” he declared as he grabbed my refuse bag. For a moment we froze. He softened the confusion. “I am the garbage collector here. You are new here, I presume. It’s a pleasure meeting you, and I hope to see you soon.”
That is how we met Bastard. After leaving the dump we thought that was last time to see him. We were wrong again. A week later Bastard pitched at our gate. Yes, Bastard announced his visit the next Saturday. We were not expecting anybody to drop by, more so Bastard. As I opened the gate he gave me a grin that said: “don’t chase me away please.”
“I have brought back your documents. I thought you will need them.” It was a bunch of old useless bills. I did not want to make him look inferior. I took a long swig from my Eskimo and snapped the “documents” from him. “Thank you a lot,” I said.
As he turned away, I felt relived of his unfriendly emissions. To be honest, I was happy to see him leave. But before the air was clear, he returned. “I also got these keys, do they belong to you?” We had been looking for the keys everywhere without success. How on earth did they end up in Bastard’s possession? Naturally, I had to welcome him because I smelt a rat.
As we sat under the shade, he took a hungry gulp from his opaque booze – container and said. “I am not a thief or a thug you know. I could have come here to try and sneak in.” he was right. I flushed down my Eskimos while he quaffed his stuff. He later popped about his life.
You see, Bastard is a family man like you and me. Unfortunately, he lost his job at one of the closed factories a while ago. His boss told them recession was affecting business and he decided to relocate overseas. Bastard became a victim. He later ventured into garbage collection to survive. He made a couple of bucks but it was not enough. His wife left him for a “better” life. Without a home, a job and a family he settled into a shack under the bridge at a nearby stream.
He became his own boss at the dumping site. His only competition came from the flies and rats. He did not mind. “So you see I am not a “scavenger.” I am just one unfortunate guy,” concluded Bastard. I felt guilty for naming him Bastard but that is how he became part of the family.
