Friday, 9 October 2015

Waste (Part 3) - On the Edge

An Iraq vet struggles with PTSD while a waitress has her own battles to fight. The homeless have made a home but all is not sweetness and light.




Solar lamp  (Photo via Yallstore)
Before you start, make sure you read the preceding parts first!!

Read Waste Not (Part 1) - On the Street  here.
Read Waste Not (Part 2) - On the Hunt  here.
 
 
Waste Not

 
Part 3  -  On the Edge

 

After two hours of hard work the shed was looking real good. Two sofas and some arm chairs encircled a low coffee table decorated with several bottles and an electric lamp. Carson had found this place and managed to get a tool to turn the water on. He was an older gent with a long grey beard. No one quite knew how he ended up here, he managed never to say, but he had talent for fixing stuff. He said not to worry about the water they were stealing. “The city water department loses more’n that every second from their own pipes. They can never fix all the leaks.”

Having a toilet and a shower was luxury, although the guys didn’t use the shower as much as they should. The shower was cold though, they hadn’t worked out how to get power since no-one knew enough about the electric to try and hook up some wires to the poles out the front. Getting fried had so far scared them off.

The lamp was solar powered. Small black panels on the top fed a battery underneath. Good things solar panels, meant less fuel needed. In the sandbox less fuel meant less convoys, less risk, less death. It was Joe’s job to put the lamp out in the sun each day to recharge. Most days, even when it was cloudy, it soaked up enough juice to get them through to the early morning hours. The lamp had a crank handle too, if there was not enough sun you could wind it up to keep it going.

Sean, his long black hair hanging lank to his shoulders, sat on one of the arm chairs and fiddled with a radio. It ran off a battery too and another little solar panel. No one had asked where Sean ‘found’ it. Having the music made the evenings go much better. So did the liquor. They took turns buying in supplies.

Off to the side the salvaged marble chess table stood proudly between two plastic chairs, the pieces lined up waiting to go into action. Joe and Carson were going to play later. once everyone had unwound a bit.

Carson passed a bottle around. Bourbon. “Mmm, nice.” grinned Blake. Next to him Freyja lifted her head from his shoulder and grasped the bottle. Red marks dotted the pale skin of her arms. She gulped down a mouthful then passed it on. Her blue eyes flashed and she whispered in BB’s ear. He nodded. “Night all. We’re gonna get some shuteye.” They slowly stood up and stumbled to their corner of the shed, their bed hidden behind a makeshift curtain. As far as Joe could see they only had three things they really liked doing: arguing, shooting up, and makin’ noise in the corner.

Sean watched them go with a distant look in his eye, then turned up the music. Joe hoped Blake and Freyja ran out of energy before the radio battery did. He didn’t want to listen to them either. He wondered what time Jeannie would get back.

Sean reached for the bottle and leaned back in his chair taking several long swigs then put it down. “I love it how people chuck out so much junk, it’s so great for us.”

Joe bristled. “It’s not great. It’s waste, a total waste. People’s time and effort, energy, resources…and half of it gets chucked away before it’s even used.”

“Not my problem man. As long as we get the spoils.” He leaned back in the chair and clasped his hands behind his head.

“People get killed protecting the resources to make this stuff. You know that?”

“Not my problem…”

“Sierra Tango Foxtrot Uniform.”

Sean sneered. “Don’t give me that army shit.”

“Shut the f...” Joe shouted.

“Zip your lip boy.” Carson glared at Sean. “You ain’t been there so don’t go telling someone who has how it is.”

Joe curled up on the sofa and mumbled to himself. “Time to call in some steel rain on that oxygen thief.”

People just didn’t get how important energy was. In Iraq fuel had to be transported a long way to keep things running. Armouring up the Humvees and trucks was one thing - that slowed down the ambushes. Still had to deal with the IEDs though. Then the army got smart. Someone had the bright idea of reducing the number of convoys and trucks by insulating the tents with some fancy foam, and running camps on solar panels for power, air conditioning, hot water. Less power meant less generators and that meant less fuel, less convoys, and less dead bodies.

Sean leaned sideways and picked up something from the floor. “I got something for ya cry baby.” He flung a worn teddy bear across the room at Joe. It hit him the face.

Joe leaped off the sofa toward him. Sean sprang out of his chair and stood behind it. “Whoa, stay frosty dude. Just a joke.”

Carson grabbed Joe by the arm. “Leave him.” He slowly pulled him down to the sofa beside him. “Have a drink.”

Joe accepted the bottle and took a long swig. Sean eyed him cautiously and then sat back down.

The door creaked. Joe looked up. Jeannie.

“Hey guys. How’s it going?” She looked from Joe to Sean, then Carson. Carson shook his head almost imperceptibly.

She smiled at Joe. “I got us some food and some supplies for tomorrow, or later maybe if you’re in party mood.” She put some brown paper bags on the bench in the little kitchen, took of her coat and sat on the arm of the sofa next to Joe. “How you doing solider?”

Joe grunted and glowered at Sean, then remembered his evening’s work. He jumped up. Sean cowered in his chair. “Look at the stuff we got.” He spread his arms.

She nodded. “You got the place lookin’ real nice.” She spotted the chess table and laughed. “It’s turnin’ into a real home sweet home for you boys.” Carson lifted his head and eyed her, one eyebrow raised. She met his glance then looked away with a shiver of realization.

Joe grabbed her arm. “Come on, there’s more.” She allowed him to pull her toward the corner of the shed, an old office with walls half made of frosted glass and a door that actually shut. He searched by the door for a flashlight and turned it on. He pointed it at the windows, covered with cardboard from the ‘plasma’ box. “That’ll keep the light out better in the morning when we’re sleeping.”

Jeannie nodded. Joe dropped the flashlight beam to the floor. “Look what else I got.” He pointed to the double bed base and mattress which had replaced their two sagging singles. He’d spread out their two sleeping bags on the new bed side by side. “It’ll be much more comfortable, like the real thing.” He looked at her sideways. “I ain’t presuming anything mind.”

She smiled at him. “I know. It’s great.” She laid a hand gently on his shoulder. “You did great.”

“Let’s eat some food.”


********

Read Waste Not (Part 4) - On the Move  here next week.


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