Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
2014 - Summer - The Backup Plan Entry
I Wish I Could Back Up - 1. Starting Over
Jean Claude "Savage" Saville sang along with Alan Jackson as "I Wish I could Back Up" (1) played on the garbage truck radio. Halfway down the east side of Burled Oak Drive, a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye caught Savage's attention, and his foot slammed down on the brake pedal. Savage's fingers clenched the steering wheel as if he could stop the truck by sheer strength alone. A silent prayer on his lips, Savage helplessly watched a toddler, wearing only a diaper, running down the driveway in front of him. The garbage truck's brakes squealed as it finally stopped just short of the driveway. A pair of kangaroos fell from their perch on the dashboard, landing on the floor. The sound of the horn was like a siren in Savage's ears and his body shook at the sudden sound. It was only afterward that he realized it had been his horn.
The toddler had also stopped running, startled by the loud horn. He stood safely in the driveway, a few feet back from the road. Savage, with his heart pounding and chest heaving from fright, watched the toddler's wide eyes fill with tears.
Suddenly, a woman wrapped in a towel ran down the driveway. One hand clamped tightly to the towel, her free hand grabbed the toddler's arm. The toddler refused to move, and crouched down. Her wet hair hung in limp strands while the woman tried to convince the child to do what she wanted.
Savage watched the pair before gently giving the truck a little gas. He really hoped the woman kept the child from running out in front of him while the vehicle crept past. Stopping the truck next to the wheeled bins on the far side of the driveway, Savage watched the child in his mirror as he operated the mechanical arms to empty the bin. The child stood up and clapped when the bin settled back on the ground. The woman finally pulled the child away and walked back into the house.
Savage watched the pair for a moment longer before turning back to his job. Something soft bumped his foot and Savage picked up the mother kangaroo holding her joey and a yellowed scrap of paper.
Hearing a voice in "his room,” Jean Claude paused just outside the door and listened.
"Roo, you go keep Uncle Claude company. Make sure you give him lots of hugs like I do. Kanga, you watch out for Uncle Claude, too. Daddy says it's dang'rous where he's going. You hold his hand when he crosses the street and keep him safe…."
"What are you doing, Johnny?" Jean Claude stepped into the room. His nephew was sitting on the floor, surrounded by half the contents of Jean Claude's kit bag. He squatted down beside his nephew.
"I'm packing for you." Johnny announced, while trying to hide the stuffed animals in the bag.
"I can see that. Why are you packing Kanga and Roo? I bought them for you." Jean Claude gently pulled the kangaroos from the bag and handed them back to Johnny.
"NO!" The little boy screamed and shoved the toys deep into the kit bag. "They gotta go. They gotta keep you safe." He sobbed and buried his face in his uncle's shoulder.
Jean Claude looked at his uniforms and other things scattered on the floor. There really wasn't room for the stuffed animals in the bag, but it seemed so important to his nephew. One of his spare boots laying on its side gave him an idea. "Ok, Squirt, what if we put Kanga in my left boot, and Roo in my right boot. Think they'll be comfortable there?"
"Oh yes, Uncle Claude." The boy hopped out of his uncle's arms and shoved one kangaroo head first into the old boot.
"Let's get the rest of my gear stowed." Jean Claude repacked his gear, wondering again at the things his nephew came up with.
“Thanks for keeping me safe again, Kanga.” Savage settled the stuffed animals back on the dashboard.
Savage continued his route, finishing with the west side of Burled Oak Drive. As he drove nearer to the toddler's house, Savage shuddered at the memory of the near tragedy earlier. He glanced at the house. The youngster, now dressed, with nose pressed against the window, watched him pick up the remaining trashcans. Savage waved, and the little child waved back. This was the first time in all the years Savage had driven a garbage truck that anyone had noticed him, the driver, not just the smelly, noisy truck. He'd often felt invisible.
Savage hadn't been able to forget that near miss throughout the entire week, so he was even more cautious on his routes. When his route took him back to Burled Oak Drive, he drove more slowly than usual.
The child ran out again, with the woman Savage assumed was his mother just behind him. Although it was obvious the child slipped out again, as he had only a diaper on, his mother was dressed in shorts and a faded Marine Corps tee-shirt. Savage lined up the mechanical arms with the bins. In the mirror, he saw the mother trying to put shorts on her son. The little boy refused to cooperate, instead, pointing at the garbage truck.
After a moment’s reflection, Savage opened the door, and stood on the step. Saying nothing to the boy, he simply pointed at the woman and waited. The boy stared at him, and then allowed his mother to put on the shorts. He looked back at Savage, who simply shook his head and pointed again. The boy looked up at his mom, who held out shoes. Once the boy put his shoes on, the mother nodded at Savage. He climbed back into the truck and activated the arms.
The boy crouched down, held his arms out straight and raised his hands over his head as Savage emptied the bin. After setting the bin down, Savage drove to the next house. In the mirror he saw the child pulling his mother to the next house to watch Savage collect the garbage there, then happily toddled back home.
Savage found himself looking forward to this route. Each week, the little boy dragged his mother to follow the garbage truck farther, onto Peachtree Lane, Silver Maple Drive and into Cherry Blossom Court. The two were a silent audience as Savage collected garbage throughout the entire neighborhood.
Summer weather turned cooler. One morning the boy ran out in blue pants and a Thomas the Tank Engine Shirt. Savage smiled at the bright blue train....
“Uncle Claude!” The excited shriek woke Jean Claude moments before a bright blue train engine jumped on him. He wrapped his arms around the shrieking attacker and rolled over.
“Watch out troops! Trains are attacking!” Jean Claude tickled the boy in his arms.
“Thanks for the memories, Roo.” Savage patted the joey on the head.
Once, the little boy ran out before Savage reached his house. Jumping up and down, he waved at Savage. When Savage waved back, the boy pulled down his pants to show off his Superman underpants. Savage laughed and honked his horn twice.
Fall came, and leaves, temperature and rain dropped. The first morning it rained, Savage expected the mother to keep her boy inside. Instead, both watched him in rain boots and US Marine Corps sweatshirts, under a bright red umbrella.
A bright red coat and blue hat were added to the boy’s wardrobe as winter weather came. Mother and son stepped carefully on the snowy, icy streets while following Savage on his route.
One morning, as he turned onto Burled Oak Drive, Savage saw the pair already waiting in the driveway. The boy was in a little black suit, and his mother had never looked so nice this early. Instead of the usual sweatshirt or tee-shirt, she wore a black dress and heels. Savage emptied their bins and moved on. Instead of following, though, the mom picked up her son and carried him back into the house.
"I wonder what that is about," Savage pondered, as he drove through the neighborhood. As always, Savage had saved the west side of Burled Oak for last. This time, there was no little nose pressed on the glass watching for Savage to wave. A black funeral limo idled in front of the home as the driver helped the mother and her son climb into it. Savage waved as he passed the house.
Savage watched the tail lights of the limo in his mirror.
The cold wind blew against his legs. Jean Claude stared down at the two coffins in the grave.
“Sgt. Saville, would you like to place the toy in the grave? Sgt. Saville?”
“No, I think I need them more than he does now.” Savage saluted his brother and nephew and walked away.
As the limo turned the corner, he put the garbage truck in reverse and backed up. Stopping at the boy's house, Savage grabbed the two kangaroos from the dashboard. He removed the scrap of paper from the mother kangaroo and dropped it on the seat. Savage sprinted up the driveway.
“Kanga, Roo, here are your transfer orders, effective immediately. Take care of this little boy." Savage wedged the kangaroos between the screen door and house door.
In the cab of the garbage truck, the scrap of paper unfurled. An aged newspaper clipping was revealed: 'Drunk Driver Kills Local Father and His Son. Luc Saville, and his son John, were returning home after taking his brother, Marine Sgt. Jean Claude “Savage” Saville, to the airport.' Alan Jackson sang "I Wish I Could Back Up" (1).
***
That Christmas there was one pick up day that the boy and his mother watched from the window instead of coming out. A bright red and green bulky envelope was taped to the side of their bin. Savage climbed down from the truck and peeled the envelope off the bin. There was something soft inside. He opened the envelope and pulled out a Christmas Tree coloring page that had been scribbled on, and a small kangaroo key chain. Savage looked at the mother and son in the window and saluted them. He climbed back into the cab. He added the kangaroo to his key for the truck and drove off.
Footnote:
(1) "I Wish I Could Back Up" by Alan Jackson, album Good Time, Arista Records, 2008.
My thanks to my support team, Nostic, Bill W, Rustle and LJH. Any remaining errors are my own.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
2014 - Summer - The Backup Plan Entry
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