Dumpster Diving For Hope

It was late, it must’ve been sometime around midnight when I heard the screams of a man. I work the night shift at a small family restaurant in a small town. I was taking out the trash to a dumpster behind the joint where I typically smoke for a few minutes before heading back in. Something about the calm moonlight and a fresh smoke makes everything, okay. As I approached the dumpster I heard rattling inside which I chalked up to rats going about their midnight snack. I lifted the moldy lid on the cold metal dumpster and heaved the heavy sack of trash inside. It was then that I heard those screams that sent me flying back in shock. The quick falling of the lid made a huge bang and the closure muffled the words that were trying to creep out. I was stuck in place — stuck between moving forward and peering inside or high tailing it back to the restaurant. My decision was made the second I saw the lid open and a head draw out. My legs ran and body twisted so quickly I nearly gave myself whiplash. I could not make out the face in my haste but I heard the voice call out as I turned the corner. I’m not sure what they said but I quickly locked the front door and left to the back room. Typically I would be closing with Terra but she’s been sick recently and resting at home — great timing. I heard knocking at the front door accompanied with sounds that seemed like words but I couldn’t tell from all the way in the back. I waited for what seemed like ages before the noise died down before I opened the door open to peek. No one at the front door. I tip-toed to the front and scanned all angles through the glass and saw no one. I opened, closed, and locked the front door and ran all the way to my car two blocks away to drive home.

I live above Margo and Thomas the owners of the restaurant I work at, Rustiques, who were willing to not only to give me a job but rent me a floor in the two story building they own. Their family, and restaurant, has been around for generations and they’ve always tried to employ people who needed help. Up until a few years ago I lived with my parents in their home on the outskirts of the town, but they passed away during a house fire while I was away in my first year of college. I had no home, no family, and already in student debt so I dropped out of college. While homeless I would frequent Rustiques’ dumpster for wasted food and solitary. For being a generational restaurant they didn’t get too many customers anymore. I found the low foot traffic comforting since no one could see me so helpless. It wasn’t until one day where I was caught rummaging for food in their dumpsters by Thomas that I was introduced to the couple. Thomas had recognized me from the newspaper article following the death of my parents which included my picture. He invited me into the restaurant and allowed me to pick anything from the menu to eat for free. He took his time to talk with me to understand my situation but what was there to understand? Pity the kid who lost his family and couldn’t even afford to feed himself so he ate from dumpsters. I know I sound ungrateful, and today I am eternally thankful, but back then I definitely was. Margo came with my meal, an omelette with hash browns, and kindly me offered a job.

“Here you go honey. How about working here for us? We’re getting older so someone who could help work the night shift would be really useful.” Asked Margo warmly.

I didn’t know how to react. She didn’t even consult Thomas about the situation but he was already on board. How could people be so generous? I embarrassingly declined since I didn’t have a reliable place to sleep and didn’t want to burden them when someone else more deserving could work.

“There’s no one more deserving than someone who needs help. And we’re in the position to help.” Smiled Thomas.

I used to look down at my bracelet when I needed support, and with beads spelling out “Love Phoebe” I saw this same love in Margo and Thomas.

I awoke the next morning around noon groggy with crust holding my eyes shut. I was still a bit frazzled by the man in the dumpster and was not looking forward to tonight’s dumpster run. Before heading out for my afternoon classes I realized that my right wrist felt oddly naked. It was then that I realized I was missing my bracelet which sent me into a frenzy. The bead bracelet was a gift from my mom and one of the only surviving things I have of my parents. I frantically searched my small apartment for the bracelet to no avail. Sitting, and hyper-ventilating, on the floor of my place drenched in sweat, I realized it could only be in one place. It must have come off sometime when I ran from the sound.

I skipped my afternoon class to head straight to the restaurant to check out the dumpster. I parked my car and rushed over, praying all the while that the pieces hadn’t rolled away with the wind. My prayers were not answered though. With cuts on my knuckles and dirt on the bend of my pants, I arose from the cracked concrete with nothing to show for. I felt so stupid — if it wasn’t for that stupid sound this would’ve never happened. Who in their right mind camps out inside a dumpster and chases someone when they’re found? I slowly walked to the street, head sunk, before I remembered that it was also entirely possible that I lost my bracelet inside the restaurant. A rush of optimism flooded my body as a I almost skipped my way to the restaurant. I opened the door so quickly that upon hitting it’s door stop I thought the glass would shatter. I ran inside towards the counter to see if whoever was around knew anything and saw Margo at the register.

“Margo please tell me you found my bracelet. I am running wild with the thought that I lost it forever. Please tell me you have it.” I struggled to get every word out through each breath.

“Slow down honey I can barely understand you. Are you saying you lost that bracelet?” Margo said with concern.

She scans my wrist and lets out a sigh of concern.

“The bracelet from your parents … I’m sorry darling I didn’t see anything when opening today. How’d you lose it?”

Instantly the lights in my eyes fizzled and my head and shoulders sank. It felt as if all the air from my lungs left as I was left starting at the ground. I turned around and left without saying a word. If I was nothing before, now I have nothing. I lost my parents and now I’ve lost my only link to them. I did not return to work that night and instead sulked in my room, in bed, for the rest of the night. That is until I got a call from Thomas.

“There’s a gentleman here that claims that he found a bracelet last night that you dropped-”

“Tell him to stay where he is! I am coming to get it right now.”

I ended the call and almost crashed on my way back to the restaurant. Upon entering the store my eyes went straight for the counter. Thomas gestured to an older man in a suit sitting in a booth in the back. I rushed over and stood in front of him.

“Excuse me sir, I was told that you found a bracelet. Do you mind showing me what it looks like?”

He said “of course” and took the bracelet out of his suit jacket pocket nicely wrapped in a handkerchief. It definitely was my bracelet but it was slightly different. The string was a different color.

“I can’t believe it, that’s definitely my bracelet but did you modify it?” I said while scanning it in my palm.

“Last night you opened and dumped your trash on me inside the dumpster. I as caught by surprise and could only lend a shriek of pain as it fell on my old little back.” The older man said with a slight chuckle.

I looked at him who was dressed nicely and well kept and wondered what he was doing in a restaurant dumpster.

“You were the person in the dumpster? You nearly gave me a heart attack last night. What were you doing there in the first place?”

He looked at me for a few seconds as if he were carefully picking out what he would say next.

“In the middle of town I run a small vintage shop. Well it’s not really a shop, more like a museum but nothing that official or fancy. It’s a small, cluttered space filled with mementos I’ve found over the years that I like to preserve and in some cases showcase.”

I looked at him puzzled.

“Hah. You look confused, rightfully so. It’s weird and doesn’t make sense I know. Let me explain. Would you care to sit?”

I took a seat in the booth across from him and chucked my elbows on the table to hold my head.

“When I was young I was poor and one day I came across a metal detector in the trash. I had read in stories how people would use these detectors to find heaps of buried treasure and being the naively, hopeful child I was I thought I could do the same. So every weekend I would talk to the beach to see what I could scavenge. Usually it was nothing interesting maybe a few coins here and there but trash mostly. One day, however, I was approached by this couple who saw me using my detector out near the water. They frantically asked if they could borrow my time to scan by where they were seated. Apparently the wife lost her ring in the sand and they could not find it. Within a few minutes, however, I was able to fish it out not just a few feet from them an inch in the sand. To this day I will never forget the look on her face with a smile so bright. She explained to me how the ring was a promise ring to her daughter and she would be devastated if she lost that. Her daughter lived overseas and this was a promise to make sure that they would be able to reunite when the couple made enough money to have her fly to them and live. I could feel the love in her voice. I was an orphan growing up and didn’t have any good memories to hold onto. So seeing the mother talk about her daughter in such a way made me both envious and elated. I realized that even if I didn’t have memories to make me happy, I could find that feeling in the happiness of others. From then on it wasn’t about money anymore, I could be poor monetarily but you could not put a price on someones happiness. And what started out as a job to me quickly became an obsession. I was constantly looking for lost and found posters. Incessantly scanning the beaches for lost goods. Scouring through trash to find if people accidentally threw out something important. It was less than a fruitful hobby since most of what I recovered I could never link to anyone. Sometimes when I did it was items that people intentionally threw away to forget those memories. But I never let go of those items.”

He took a pause and looked down into the table.

“So what did you do with the things you found but never linked to an owner? Is that what this “museum” thing is?” I eagerly asked.

“Maybe because I thought that someday the owner would stumble upon my shop and find the item they lost years ago. Maybe I was too stubborn to admit that what I had found was just junk that no one was looking for. I’m not sure. But I kept them. And years later when I finally had a stable job and money I found a small space I could rent to stash these goods. But it wasn’t enough justice for me to just let these items sit without a future, so I gave them a past.”

“What do you mean a past? Like you made up a story for them?”

“Precisely. Maybe it was a historical text like you’d read as a caption in a textbook. Or maybe a small blurb about what it meant like the explanation to a painting. Or maybe it was a poem or story that explained the feelings and emotions behind the item. I believed that at one point everything had value to someone otherwise they wouldn’t have bothered having it. Maybe it was to cope with the face that my lost and found business didn’t work as I had thought. Or maybe I was coping with the fact that I was abandoned by my own parents without a reason as to why I was discarded.”

He stopped and apologized for getting too deep and emotional with a stranger.

“No, I think I understand. This bracelet is from my mom and the last thing I have from my parents. A few years ago they died and it uprooted my life. I dropped out of school and became homeless and had no aim in life. I gave up. There is no way I will ever understand the position you’ve been in but I can understand feeling empty and alone.” I said while fidgeting with my fingers.

I felt a lump in my throat which stopped the next few sentences from coming out.

“I’m sorry. Even talking about them all these years later I still have trouble. Do you happen to smoke? Sometimes a smoke is what I need to clear my head.” I could barely lift my head to look at him.

“Not much anymore but I wouldn’t mind accompanying you for a cigarette.”

We walked out to the dumpster and I lit cigarettes for us both.

“I got into smoking while I was homeless. Lighters are cheap and practical and I would find myself just flicking them on and off all day. In an almost cruel fashion the small flame reminds me of my parents.”

I looked over at him with a half smile.

“They died in a house fire a few years and the flame gives me both comfort and remembrance.”

The old man jumped and nearly dropped his cigarette.

“Your parents died in a house fire? And this was a few years ago you said, correct?”

He seemed oddly fascinated as if he had just figured something out.

“Yes? Why?”

“It might be nothing, but would you like to see my shop? There might be something that would interest you.”

Apparently the man walked all the way here from his store so I drove us over there. The small storefront was sandwiched between two bigger, multi floor buildings you could easily miss it. He shoved his key into the lock and opened the door. He turned on some old lights and I already felt claustrophobic. There were so many items strewn around on shelves and on the wall with short descriptions next to them detailing either some history and date of when they were found. I was taken aback by the sheer amount of items he had in this small place. I was lost in reading the descriptions that I jumped when he tapped my shoulder.

“A few years ago I heard of a house fire at the edge of town in the newspaper. An article detailing a three alarm house fire that killed the parents of an only child. I didn’t know you then, and frankly I did not know who you were until today. But after reading that article I was possessed, almost moved, to head to the spot. Although mostly char and rubble, in the rubble I managed to find this.”

He showed me a slightly burned picture. I could recognize this anywhere. It was a photo taken of me as a child winning some soccer tournament with both my parents behind me lifting me up on their shoulders. I almost burst into tears on the spot. I cupped my mouth and tried my best not to slobber and cry everywhere.

“It appears that child is you then. I spent quite the time trying to track you down but no one had any leads on where you had vanished to. But it all makes sense now. “

I held the picture to my chest and started sobbing. I couldn’t even apologize for being a mess before he put his hand on my shoulder and told me to stay as long as I needed. Every time I think that I made peace with their passing the emotions come back to me just as strong. Everything would be better if I had their hands on my shoulder right now. So I took out the bracelet for any semblance of their support. “Love & hoPe” it read, I chuckled. Me being in this store reminded me that there is hope that one day someone will be reconnected with what once made them happy. So maybe it’ll be hope that one day allows me to find complete happiness again. The hope that started with the sound of screams.