Part 1
A metal disc spun and landed among the screaming civilians. Scooching forward, I balanced on the edge of my seat. “This movie’s great.” Grub barked in agreement as I tossed butter-smothered popcorn into my mouth. I knew he would; the golden retriever loved alien movies. I rested my arm over his back, across his favorite harness that resembled a space suit.
The phone rang, and I groaned, sinking into the back cushion. “I just want to relax!”
Smearing butter on the already cheesy wired plastic, I answered with a sigh, “Hello?” I wiped my other hand on the edge of the couch.
“Henry? I got a few calls today from some of the clients. You didn’t get their trash.”
“Who?” I made a face, and Grub went from smiling to serious.
“Down Alma Way. None of them got their trash picked up today. If you keep doing this, I hate to say it, Henry, I’m gonna have to let you go.”
I sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve just been so exhausted lately. Have we hired any new guys yet?”
“You know he doesn’t have enough to pay for that right now.”
“There goes my other question.”
“You’ll get a raise when you show him you can pick up all the trash on your shift.”
I turned to Grub. He needed his meds and was down to the last bits of kibble.
“I’ll get it for ’em tonight.”
Grub flopped out his tongue.
“I guess. But really, you can’t keep doing this.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Talk to you later.” I dropped the phone on the receiver with a loud clang.
“Well, Grub.”
He cocked his head.
“Wanna go for a ride?”
“Roff!”
***
Grub flapped his tongue in the wind, and it always made me smile. Flashes of dog-walking as a kid ran through my mind. “You need a friend, huh, bud?”
Grub would love some friends to play with out on the lake, but I’d worried about inconsistent pay and not being able to give Grub the full attention he needed.
We turned down Alma Way, and sure enough, all the trash cans were full. I shook my head, “How did we forget these, boy?”
“Roff!”
“That’s right, we passed it earlier because someone had to take a major dump.”
Grub whined.
“I know. You were the smart one who went before we left the house.”
I emptied the first few bins. It was easy unless you had to do it all day and take care of a dog with Pavoris Syndrome. He just had to pick an owner with no money, didn’t he?
Mrs. Barlow stood outside by her can, hands on her hips. I sighed. The things I put up with for this job. “Hey, Mrs. Barlow.” I waved.
“Is this going to keep happening, because I have a big family and we make a lot of trash?” Her nasally voice made me pull a face, but I couldn’t help it. “I can’t afford to pay someone who doesn’t pick it up.” She shook her head, and the dry, fluffy white hair sat stiff on her shoulders as if inside a hairnet.
“Sorry about that, ma’am. I had an emergency with my dog, but—”
“You shouldn’t even be bringing it to work.”
“He is sick, and I've got no one to watch him.”
“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” She turned to her fancy middle-class house and waddled back barefoot. Gross-ass old lady.
After that, all my energy—what little I had left—was drained. Here I was trying to fix it. I didn’t need another lecture. I emptied her can, and when I got back in the truck, I scrubbed my face to wake up.
After about five minutes under Grub’s intense glare, I regained myself and headed for the others. I pulled up to the halfway point to grab a couple bags and bring them back without moving the truck. When I got about ten feet away from the hopper, a loud, fan-like sound flapped in the distance and zoomed by. Was that a jet?
Grub’s ears perked up, and his serious face returned.
We drove further, and as I got out to collect the other bins, another one flapped in the wind. A zoom of lights sped directly over my head. I yelled and crouched low.
When the sound subsided, Grub’s barking echoed down the street, then it stopped. Panic set in, and I ran after him. I opened his door, and he was stiff, just as I feared—another episode.
I popped the glove compartment and pulled out his injector, sending in the medicine to relax his nervous system. I held him tightly. “You’re okay, bud.”
Please be okay, please be okay. It felt like forever, but his medicine worked fast. His muscles eased into my arms, and I could finally breathe again. He licked my face, and I petted him. That could happen any time, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it would've have happened if he’d stayed home.
“What was that, boy?” We both panted, staring out the windshield.
“I don’t think I want to be here anymore,” I muttered and climbed back into the truck. I needed to rest and think for a minute.
Grub barked.
“I don’t care how much they’d pay us if we found an alien. There’s no way we even could. They’re long gone by now.” I pushed my chin toward the sky.
Grub whined and stared out the windshield.
It felt strange going further down the street. Something was wrong in the air. I just wanted to get the trash done and get out. Thoughts of the invasion movie didn’t help anything.
I kept my eyes on the sky. I rubbed them, thinking about the past week. So tired.
After I cleared Alma Way, I got back into the truck, and Grub wouldn’t even look at me. He leaned out the window and tried getting his back paw up on the ledge.
“Whoa!” I wrapped my arms around him. “Boy, what are you doing?!” He’d never tried to get out before.
But the lights had disappeared into the backroads where the trees shrouded everything, and it was so empty. Hardly even animals down there. “There’s no way we’re going down there.”
Grub could have another episode. And if I put too many miles on the truck, I’d have another lecture waiting for me, at best. I stared at the dark road as the sun sank behind the trees.
But what if there were aliens? I don’t think I could sleep, even if I was all tucked into bed nice and cozy. I’d imagine them watching me through my window with large soulless eyes.
Grub’s barks rang in my ears as he scratched at the tinted windows, peeling some off. I sighed. That would come out of my paycheck. I had to prove they weren’t real for our sanity’s sake.
“Alright, Grub. We’ll follow the lights. Just to show you there’s nothing.”
