by David Poland
Nothing more needed to be said and Tommy followed Jackson over to where the shuttle trucks were parked. The lot was empty except for old number 72. “I like this one,” said Jackson, “I’ve driven it before.”
They both got in the small truck. The truck had a forklift mast on its back. Jackson found the electronics were on and had been booted up. Jackson looked over at Tommy with an expression that said pay attention or you’ll be in trouble. “OK dude, don’t say anything just follow my lead.”
Tommy’s eyes sparkled with scheming delight. He stifled his smile and nodded in agreement.
Jackson threw the last switch. “Hello there number 72, do you copy my voice?”
“Affirmative Jackson, how nice to see you again.”
“Do you have our assignment?”
“Affirmative, how shall we begin?”
“Do you know which dumpster we are to deliver?”
“Affirmative.”
“Okay 72,” said Jackson. “I’ll let you drive. Please go pick up the dumpster.”
The small shuttle truck engaged silently and drove to its pick up location. The truck then perfectly positioned its tynes and backed into the dumpster.
“Very good 72. Now I would like you to back into the shop building that has the steam cleaner.”
As the small shuttle truck was doing as it was directed, it spoke to Jackson. “I’m able to comply. Are you aware that the dumpster we have is already clean?”
“Yes 72, how very thoughtful of you to point that out. I will not be cleaning it again. Please back in close to that object covered with a canvas.”
“Affirmative.”
“ Okay, 72, lower the dumpster and stay put with it.” When the truck stopped Jackson and Tommy jumped out. “Hey dude, we got to fold up the canvas just as perfectly as it was when we found it and put it back there.”
“We don’t got the time,” said Tommy. “We can do it when we come back.”
“No way dude. If it’s not perfect right now, one of the yardmen will blow a whistle on us. I’m helping you, but I don’t want any trouble. Now do what I say, pick up the other end and let’s pull it tight.” Tommy didn’t like to hear somebody telling him what to do, but this guy was his only hope. They worked quickly and ever time it wasn’t just right Jackson showed him how to do it. Finally it was folded up as neat as a bedspread. Jackson himself took it back to the shelf and put it with the others as though it had never left.
When Jackson got back, Tommy had both of the dumpster’s lids open.
“Hey man, this thing is too tall for us to lift it over and put it down carefully. We got to get something to stand on. If we just lift it up and throw it in we’ll break it.”
“It’s already broken,” said Jackson thoughtfully.
“Yeah, but we ain’t gonna break it more.”
“We don’t have any time to go get something to stand on. We’re running out of time. We got to load it and go!”
“We got no more time because you wasted it folding up that canvas.”
Jackson didn’t seem to be listening to him. “We can do it in two steps, but you gotta be thinking and listening to me. We can lift it together and balance it on the corner of the dumpster.”
“That ain’t gonna work. We can lift it up there but it’s gonna fall as soon as you let go,” scoffed Tommy with increasing frustration. “We gotta get some crates we can stand on.”
“No time, dude. Trust me. Let’s lift this thing up and put it on this corner.”
Tommy had no choice. They were just barely able to lift it and put it crossways on the corner of the dumpster. It was heaver than it looked. “Okay, we did it but it won’t say there. You let go and it will fall.”
“I’m not letting go, dude. You let go and get inside.”
Suddenly Tommy saw the strategy. His climb into the dumpster wasn’t very dignified and he created a lot of jerking that threatened to topple the motorcycle. Jackson held it in place until Tommy grabbed hold of it from the inside. “Your turn man. Get on up here.”
Jackson got up and inside with very little struggle. He had obviously done this a time or two before. Jackson then got hold of the other end of the motorcycle. They lifted it carefully and put it on its side against the back wall of the dumpster. They climbed out from the opposite ends and closed the lids.
Back inside the cab of the shuttle truck, Jackson tapped the dashboard. “You still with us 72 or did you fall asleep?”
“I’m with you and congratulations on that most expert placing of the motorcycle in the dumpster. I don’t think you added even one small scratch to it.”
Tommy rolled his eyes toward the heavens as though he was listening to his sister Angie.
Talking to the truck, Jackson continued. “You know where to take us?”
“My first speculation would be Tommy’s garage.”
“Very good 72, let’s move out.” With the word, out, the small truck engaged silently. Jackson didn’t know where Tommy lived, so letting the truck do the driving was the most convenient thing to do.
“Hey man,” said Tommy indignantly. “How do you know where I live? You some kind of know-it-all machine?”
“I read your com-link watch when you first came abroad.” The voice was so darn friendly, Tommy wondered if it was really a machine. “I’m guessing you would like me to stay off the main street in front of your house and approach the garage from the smaller street in back.”
“Yeah, that’s a real good idea,” said Tommy sounding as condescending as he could.” He started to add what he thought would be a clever insult, but Jackson made an abrupt gesture to shut him up.
“Driving along the back streets is a good idea,” said Jackson directing his voice to the faithful little truck. “Do you see a way to get close to Tommy’s garage door with the dumpster?”
“We have a problem. The dispatching system just told me we are expected at the delivery address in half an hour. If we continue to Tommy’s flat first we will be more than an hour late. What would you like to do?” The Artificial Intelligence unit inside the truck, could see no threat to human health or possible damage to equipment so it didn’t seem to care which way they went.
There was panic in Tommy’s eyes as he shot a stare at Jackson.
Jackson again gave him a sign to be quiet. “Hey 72, take us to the address for the dumpster as planned. We don’t want to be late.” At the next intersection the little truck turned right and away from Tommy’s flat. “Hey 72, are you planning to turn left when we get to Rutherford Avenue?”
“Yes, that is one of the most direct routes,” answered the little truck.
Jackson knew the little truck spent too much time in the yard and was in cyber heaven to be out on the road with two real humans helping them with a real job. “Let’s drive on by Rutherford and go down to Kervran Avenue. Make your left on Kervran.”
Tommy hit Jackson on his leg to make sure he had his attention. “What’s the matter with you? You forgot about my motorcycle? Your brain fall off the truck at the last red light?”
Jackson smiled. “I sure hope not. You got to trust me dude.” They drove on up to Kervran in silence. The little truck rolled through the intersection and made a left turn onto the avenue. “Okay 72,” said Jackson as he put his hands back on the wheel. “I think I’d like to drive for a while.”
“Very good, I can feel you hands on the wheel. I’m disengaged.”
Jackson only drove a few blocks then turned into one of the few old gas stations still in business. He rather expertly backed the dumpster into an empty service bay then told the truck what to do. “Okay 72, lower the dumpster flat but stay here with it.” He looked over to Tommy, “Come on dude, we got some modern art to unload.” Jackson hopped out before Tommy could complain.
Tommy looked around the place and saw no one. “You know these guys?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t see anybody,” said Tommy.
“If we don’t leave you
r bike here, you’ll lose it for sure.”
Jackson and Tommy went to opposite ends of the dumpster and were inside in no time at all. They lifted the motorcycle and balanced it on one corner with out saying a word; Jackson held the bike as Tommy got out. When Tommy had it in hand, Jackson got out. They found a spot for it on toward the back of the bay and laid it on its side. Jackson ran back and got in the truck.
Tommy followed. “Don’t we got to talk to somebody?” asked Tommy.
“Hey 72, take us to where we got to go and move it, baby.”
The truck raised the dumpster and left without any delay.
Tommy twisted around trying to see his bike as they left. “Oh man, look what you did. Somebody’s gonna steal my bike. They gonna walk right in here and steal my bike for sure.”
“Oh quit stewing. There is no market for rusty old bikes with no front wheels. Hey 72, how are we doing on time?”
“We are running a bit late. Would you like me to take a shortcut?”
“Yes indeed, sweetheart,” said Jackson with a bit of humor in his voice. “Just move your beautiful carriage along.” Jackson looked up into the rearview mirror and checked to see that the dumpster was where it was supposed to be.
As they drove along, Tommy became sure somebody would steal his bike. The next fifteen minutes seemed to take hours to pass. When they pulled into the address, the dumpster wasn’t full but rubbish cluttered around it on the ground.
“Hey 72,” said Jackson, “make a complete photo record of where these guys throw their trash.”
“Affirmative.”
“If that stuffed shirt comes out the door, be sure to record him with both audio and video. Got that?”
“Affirmative.”
Jackson and Tommy got out and started sweeping clear the entire area around the dumpster. The best place for the new dumpster was beside the old one. Jackson traded his broom for a shovel and started throwing what Tommy swept into the old one.
Just then the door opened and the stuffed shirt came out. “Don’t put the trash you’re sweeping up in my dumpster. You put it in your new one.”
Jackson looked at the stuffed shirt as though he was looking at a ridiculous child. “Hey 72, bring the new dumpster in close enough to load.”
The little truck had driven directly into the driveway. It backed out and turned around. It then backed in putting the dumpster close enough to load.
“That’s not what I said,” yelled the stuffed shirt. “If I wanted that truck to turn around, I would have said that!”
Tommy felt anger explode inside him and wondered if he could break the handle of his broom over the stuffed shirt’s head. Before he made his move he checked what Jackson was doing. Jackson was perfectly calm, working as though the stuffed shirt wasn’t there. Just looking at Jackson made him a lot less angry.
“Okay 72,” called out Jackson. “Place the dumpster.”
The little truck put the new one next to the old one.
“Not there!” yelled the stuffed shirt. “I want them in front of each other. I want that room on the side for something else.” The stuffed shirt stepped closer to the little truck. “You hear me. Move that thing in front of the other one!” He now looked at Jackson with pure contempt. “You tell your truck what I said and it better do it right now!”
“If one dumpster is in front of the other,” said Jackson, “the one in the back will be blocked for the next pick up crew.”
“I don’t care about your pick up crew. You guys got nothing better to do.”
With the peaceful disinterest one can learn from bureaucrats, Jackson said, “The placement decisions have been made by our very capable leaders at Homeland Maintenance. I have no control in this situation. Would you like me to help you file grievance against HM?”
The stuffed shirt reddened with anger. “No!” He turned and went back inside slamming the door behind him.
They were back in the truck and were on the road in less than a minute. They started laughing. “Not a good one for the stuffed shirt,” said Tommy. “Hey there Mr. 72, where you taking us?”
“Back to the gas station,” replied the little truck.
The gas station was still empty when they got there and for the lack of a dumpster, they had to tie the motorcycle onto the back of the truck sitting on the lifting tynes.
Back on the road the truck asked, “Would you like to hear a little Blue Grass music?”
The time passed quickly and the next thing they knew, the small truck was backing into Tommy’s driveway. It stopped, perfectly centered in front of Tommy’s garage door. The musical melody was complete just as the truck stopped.
Tommy jumped out and went up to one of the building’s optical sensors. He looked at it for just a moment and was recognized. His garage door opened revealing a space large enough for two cars. There was a bench and shelves across the back wall. The bench and the shelves held a remarkable assortment of junk Tommy had collecting over the years. Fortunately most of the floor space was still empty. They untied the bike and quickly put it inside.
Back in the truck, Tommy asked, “Hey Mr. Truck how we doing on time?”
“We will be back to the yard and parked before the office shift your sister works is complete. You will be able to go home with her as usual.”
“Yes!” Tommy merrily smashed his right fist into his left hand. “We did it Jackson, old buddy, we did it for sure, sure enough, sure eeeeenough!”
Chapter Four
For the first time ever, Friday had turned into a very special day. The last three stops on Tommy’s route were a piece of cake. He and Jackson did nothing but watch the trash truck do all the work. Riding back to the yard, Tommy flipped on his intercom. “Hey Jackson, we get paid today don’t we?”
“Sure enough, dude.” Both Tommy and Jackson were riding in the swamper places outside the cab. The street noise was distracting and Tommy turned his head slightly to put his ear closer to the speaker. He could hear Jackson fairly well over the noise. “You get paid today and you’re gonna learn about paycheck deductions,” said Jackson.
“What deductions? I didn’t make no deductions! What you talkin’ about?”
“Are you forgetting about the money they advanced you at the Snake Dancer? Don’t you remember stuffing money in your pocket, dude? That money has to come from somewhere.”
“What? You said that money was an advancement. You didn’t say nothin’ about no deductions.”
“An advancement turns into a deduction, dude. When you get some money before Friday, they deduct it from what they give you on Friday. They make it come out even. They don’t let you get something for nothing,” said Jackson. “Then, of course, they take out other deductions.”
“Oh man,” yelled Tommy, “what other deductions you talkin’ about? I did my work and I even kept up with you. Man, the truth is you were slowing me down. They gonna take some deductions, they can take them from you not me.”
Jackson figured Tommy would say something like that. “Are you forgetting about that first day, Dude? You were moving around like you had lead in your butt. I had to cover for you, for the whole day.”
“Oh man, that’s not what happened. You tried to poison me with that swamper grub. Man, I’m not gonna touch that stuff again. So what are you talkin’ about? I worked my five days. They better not take no deductions from my paycheck. If they deduct from my paycheck, I’m gonna deduct from my work.” Tommy sat quietly trying to figure out how to get out of paying deductions. “Do they take deductions from you?”
“Oh come on dude, is the Pope Catholic?”
“I don’t know no Pope. What’s the Pope got to do with my paycheck?”
“Nothing, Dude. That’s just a way of saying yes. Let me make it clear. They take deductions out of my paycheck, and out of Ted’s paycheck, and even your sister’s paycheck. It’s a fact of life, Dude. They take part of what you earn.”
“Then no deal,” said Tommy. “They want me to work, they go
t to pay me and when they pay me they can’t take no deductions. If they take deductions, the deal’s off!” Tommy had never worked before, but he wasn’t going to let them push him around. His five days of work had been something new, but if they weren’t going to give him all his money, they could run the trucks without him.
“You forgetting about the motorcycle, dude?”
“No,” said Tommy, “but since I got it at home, all I got to do is fix it up. I don’t need to do some job the robots should be doing anyway.”
“That’s a good one,” scoffed Jackson. “You’re going to just fix it up. You don’t even know what the engine looks like on the inside. That thing may never run again. But, besides all that, they won’t let you drive it without a license and they won’t even let you take the license test until you’ve worked a least six months. If, and that’s a big ‘if’, you can get it running, they’ll throw you in the box for driving it without a license. I know what I’m talking about dude, I’ve been there.”
The trash truck was now driving through the back gate. Tommy was quiet while the truck pulled up to the shop and stopped. As they walked to the locker room, Tommy asked, “Are they gonna give me money or is it gonna be some kind of check I got to take to some bank?”
“You can get it either way. For the first week, they usually give you cash.” Jackson considered his partner, and with a bit of drama added, “That is if there is anything left in it.” Jackson had second thoughts about that last remark. It seemed to hurt Tommy a lot more than he meant to. “Come on dude, let’s get out of our coveralls and I’ll show you where the cashiers are. I’m sure you want to see whatever is leftover.”
Angie was walking down the hall and met them near the cashier’s room. “Hey there, Mr. Tommy,” said Angie, “you did it. You’re going to get you’re first real paycheck.”
“Jackson just told me, they took all the money out of my paycheck with deductions. He said there’s gonna be nothin’ left for me.”
Angie shot a destructive glare at Jackson as she answered. “Jackson has a tendency to exaggerate every now and then, don’t you Jackson?”