The smell hit me well before I opened the lid. I gagged, but wasn't shocked. The trashcans in this neighborhood always smelled of curdled milk and old leftovers. My hands covered by a pair of thin plastic gloves fumbled as I reached for the bags of trash even though it was smelling.
My body hurt, my fingers so cold they could feel brittle, yet I kept going. I had to. I mean, if I didn't—would anybody else?
"Come on, Peace," I told myself, hoisting up another black bag. "Just make it through this day."
I mopped the sweat off my forehead and looked up and down the narrow alley. It was still dark, and the street lights threw great long shadows on the wet concrete.
It never slept city, serene it was in the serenity of the early morning hours when most had gone to sleep and the world once again was quiet. I wouldn't know; I loved this silence-not by choice since that was the time I needed to work when the rest of the city started with their day.
I grasped the last sack, slinging it onto the truck. That signature thud echoed through the alley; blocks away, a cat shrieked. I blew out a sigh, rubbing my grimy hands against my frayed jeans.
It was an odour that followed me, apparently, some kind of grisly reminder of what I was stuck in.
"How's it going, Peace?
I turned to find Mrs. Keller peep out of her door, a scowl etched across the wrinkled complexion of her face. Always watching, hawk-like, to make sure I never missed one bin or would immediately phone the landlord on me.
"Fine, Mrs. Keller," I said with a forced smile, "just finishing up."
"Make sure you get it all this time, she snarled, her hand jiggling toward the crumpled newspaper near her stoop. "You missed that last week."
I just gritted my teeth and nodded. "Will do."
She was inside now, finally, and I exhaled, dropping to a crouch to pick up the paper. There were times when it seemed like my whole life was spent cleaning up after other people-never had the time, energy for anything else. I once had dreams. Now they sounded so remote, someone else's.
I finally came to a stop and began heading up to our small apartment complex-an older building that, over the years of neglect, had brick slowly discoloring.
Airing my lungs, I ran up several flights at a time. My heart was well in front of me, churning over thoughts of Grandma. She hadn't been doing too great lately, and now an unusual foreboding feeling came upon me.
Indeed, it creaked its familiar tune as I opened the door.
"Nana?"
"I'm here, sweetheart," her weak voice and soft reply from the other room.
I went in quickly to see her sitting on a worn-out couch, wrapped into blankets. Pale-skinned, her hands slightly shivered while holding onto a mug of hot tea. A smile crossed her face as she saw me, but I could feel her pain.
"Peace, how are you? How is work?" she asked so softly, I could barely hear her.
"It was so stressful," I said, plastering a smile on my face. "I got everything done. And Mrs. Keller gave me a hard time, as usual."
Grandma chuckled softly. "That old bat doesn't know how lucky she is to have you around."
I sat down beside her, taking the mug delicately from her hands. "How are you feeling?
She faltered then, and sighed. "I'm all right, I'm just tired. The medicine isn't helping quite so much anymore."
My heart sank. Sure, I knew she was getting worse, but to actually hear it from her-that was a kick in the gut. I couldn't lose her. She was all I had left.
"We'll be OK," I lied; I didn't have the first clue. We could barely scrape up enough to eat; medicine was utterly out of the question. It was a chore just to survive from day to day.
She clamped my hand in hers and leaned over. "Don't you worry about me, Peace. You've done enough. You really shouldn't have to bear this burden alone."
"I am not alone," I said obediently. "We're in it together, Nana."
Inside, I was lonely-day in and day out, it was a fight to get through the days and do whatever I could to keep us afloat. I wanted more than this for him and me, but I didn't know how to get there.
"You should rest," I said to her. "I'll get dinner ready."
Dinner was putting a nice word to it; I opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of eggs and some stale bread. That wasn't much, but that was all they had.
I scrambled the eggs in no time while my head buzzed with ideas on how to bring in more cash. I couldn't continuously pick up trash.
We silently ate, and it did weigh us down. At one moment, Nana nodded my way; from this action, it would appear she wanted to tell me something, though she did not know how to go about it. Suddenly, she spoke.
"Peace, I thought maybe you could go to that community center down the street. I heard they give job training. May give you a chance to
I was already shaking my head before she could get it out. "Nana, I don't have the time now. We need the money now, not after some training program."
"But you're so smart," she pressed then, firmer. "You could do more than this, Peace. You deserve more."
I said nothing. She didn't get it. I had no room in my brain to wring my hands over what I was going to be doing five or ten years from now when what was staring me down right this very minute was daunting me.
The weight of responsibility pressed in upon me like a boulder, and I couldn't blink-not one second.
I cleaned her up and tucked Nana into bed. She'd fallen all but asleep just about instantly. I stood at the window, looking out onto the city. Lights flickered from afar like thin stars cast across the horizon. Somewhere out there, people lived lives that I could only dream of. But it was a dream that didn't put food on the table.
I fisted my hands as determination roared inside of me. I didn't know how, but I would get us out of this. We were never going to live like this. Tomorrow will be different.