Trayvon, five to life

Trayvon Five To Life WL 828

Wow! apartments, apartments one after another, rows and rows of ‘em. And all, every one with so much garbage. Dump all these containers today, return the day after tomorrow and they're full again. But, Hey! “Keep’s the paycheck comin’”!

This was a great little family owned waste company and Trayvon Motley had signed on years ago as a helper. That was back when all the trash was loaded from the rear and then a power take off was thrown which engaged a big blade to push and pack everything tightly toward the front of the huge truck. As a helper he spent a lot of time standing and hanging on to an oversized step at the back of the truck. There was a step and grab bar just for that purpose. This saved time in alleys and close places where he'd normally be getting in and out of the truck a lot. Eventually he graduated to driver and had his own helper. Roscoe Carnes. Everyone just called him Ha Ha. Ole “Ha Ha.” They were about the same age and Ha Ha's nickname came simply from his usual reaction to anything that approached funny. His laugh and manner was always the same, a simple slow “ha ha”.

The two had become fairly good friends during that time. They even shared an occasional beer after work on Fridays. Trayvon had driven accident free for some time and he'd proven his positive intentions with a great attendance record and even daily good public relations. He'd completed efforts necessary for promotion. Recently he'd been assigned a new truck that loaded and dumped the big metal containers, or cans as they were called in the industry, from the front. This truck he drove and operated by himself. It was more efficient and he rarely had to exit the cab. The truck had tines or forks on the front that were operated by hydraulics. He approached the big metal trash bins or cans from the front, threw a lever engaging the power take off, thus lowering the tines or forks. As they lowered to about waist high he simply moved the truck forward a bit where the forks fit into sleeves on the side of the can. He'd throw another lever and the can would get lifted overhead and dumped into the truck where there was a blade that pushed it and packed it tightly to the rear of the truck. He then threw another lever and let the can back down. He would then prepare to exit and move on to the next can.

On this very hot day Trayvon drove his truck into a vast apartment complex and began dumping can after can. With so many he was moving rapidly from one to the next, spilling a milk carton here, a gum wrapper there. He bumped one and as it lifted overhead he watched a new pack of pencils and pens fall to the ground. He smiled internally thinking of a time in the past when he'd had a terrible headache and, bless pete, he'd actually seen an aspirin bottle fall like that. He'd stopped his truck and gotten out to check. Found it to be brand new and unopened. Heck, he’d taken a few and saved the rest.

Trayvon continued working at the apartment complex which he knew very well. He even knew a few tenants at least well enough to wave as they came and went. He dumped can after can as he worked his way behind each apartment of the huge complex. Looking down the line he couldn't help but eyeball all the shiny new cans that stood out probably to no one but him. He dumped one that seemed light. He moved on to the next one, lowered his forks and moved forward inserting them into the can. He actually bumped it a bit with the front of his truck. He threw the lever to lift the can and it started up. As it reached his windshield height he was a bit shocked to see a crisp new green five dollar bill floating from the can to the ground. Trayvon immediately stopped the lift in front of the truck. He set the brake and removed his headset, dulling the music.

Smiling he thought, perhaps he did not have a lot in life but he knew one thing. At this moment he was five dollars richer. He exited the cab and approached the front of the truck. Stooping and bending over he clasped the bill in his hand. At that moment he was startled. He actually thought he heard a whimpering sound, a bit of a cry from inside the big refuse can resting at windshield height in front of his truck. He paused just a second and listened.

! It was definite. He now heard it clearly. A short whimper followed by a definite tiny baby’s cry… #

Eudell Watts III [email protected]