One Man's Trash

“Don’t pack up! We have two minutes left!”

The shuffling of papers dulled ever so slightly.

“Remember to finish your hero paragraph. They’re due Friday, as in THIS Friday, okay? And remember—”

RIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG

Ms. James’ class launched into a scurried frenzy toward the door. She shouted against the stampede in a last ditch effort to be heard.

“One last reminder! All after school events have been cancelled! All after school events have been—ugh”

Ms. Sadie James slumped into her lopsided chair. She didn’t even try to hide her exhaustion. Thinking of her cat and bottle of wine at home, she eventually mustered up the strength to find her feet. Sadie dragged them around the classroom straightening desks, picking up gum, candy wrappers, crumpled pieces of paper. She made her way to the waste bin with her modest haul of classroom debris, dumped her findings and started back to her desk. She stopped just a half a step from the trash can and turned around. She went back to the small bin and looked inside. 4th grade students would throw trash anywhere in the classroom besides where it belonged, so the can was usually empty until Ms. James cleaned the room. But today, when she looked inside, she saw a little black notebook. She picked it up to examine it closer. It was certainly out of place in her class, where students had to “borrow” pencils and paper everyday.

“You done with that?”

“Gah!”Ms. James let out a sharp gasp that startled her new company.

“Jeez Ms. James, I’m only here to take out the trash. Whaddya so jumpy for?”

“I’m sorry Carl, you caught me off guard.”

“Pfff, of course you’re scared of the janitor.” He scoffed as he picked up the bin.

Without another word he turned and headed for the door.

“I’m sorry Car—oh damn it.”

She threw her head back and closed her eyes. After a long sigh she made her way to her purse. Mechanically, she opened it up, took out her keys, threw in the notebook, and placed the strap on her shoulder. She cursed all the way from the desk to the door, turned out the lights, locked up, and wished that she would never have to return. Sadie walked home. She always walked. She used to love passing friendly faces after a long day, but this was not the town Sadie knew and loved. The town had been so nice when she was young; so safe. Her parents used to let her pitch a small tent in the front yard where she would “camp out” on warm summer nights. But this was not that town. Friendly faces were few and far between.

Sadie stepped in the front door and felt her spirits rise as she embraced the fur ball that curled at her feet. She dropped her purse at the door, picked up her cat, and headed to the kitchen. Sadie drained the remaining half of a zinfandel bottle into a glass that read, “I Wine Because I Teach”. Her eyes squeezed shut as she took a healthy gulp of the wine. She stepped out of her shoes where she stood and slunk to the cold, hard kitchen floor. Sitting on the floor, Sadie dreamed of a fresh start, far from this dead-end life in this decaying town.

She slowly rose and made her way to her regular spot on the couch. Stopping to pick up her purse up off the ground, she noticed something unfamiliar fall out.

The notebook!

She had completely forgotten about the little black book. She took the frayed pages in her hand once more and settled into the couch. Sadie examined the cover; it had seen better days. The leather cover was cracked and the elastic band that bound the notebook was stretched far beyond its reaches. Sadie opened the notebook and without knowing what to expect, she was somehow disappointed. It was just a list of names, none of which she recognized. Not one name sounded even vaguely familiar. She reached for her cell phone and began typing each name into the Internet search bar. Nothing.

Nothing? Not one hit?

Sadie kept at it for a while, typing in names, producing nothing. There had to have been a thousand names in that notebook and not one was popping up on the Internet. She was perplexed, but more than that, she was exhausted. She closed her eyes and tried to recall the day through her tired mind. She opened the notebook again and thumbed through the pages. Just names. She flipped all the way to the last page and there were only a few empty lines left. On the inside of the back cover she found an address:

5404 1/2 Norman Way

½? What does that mean? Maybe it’s a backhouse?

While Sadie knew the street, she couldn’t recall the house. She resolved that she would bring the strange little notebook into class tomorrow and return it to whomever left it behind.

“Good morning class! How is everyone today?”

Sadie tried with all her might to sound enthusiastic and energetic but her face betrayed her apathy. She was met with groans, stares, and the occasional set of closed eyes.

“Now before we begin today, I would like to return this notebook to its rightful owner. It was mistakenly placed in the trash yesterday and I would like to remind everyone that if we find any materials or items that are not ours, please place them on my desk, not in the trash can.”

The blank stares remained as Sadie retrieved the little black notebook from her purse and held it in front of the class for identification. Nobody stirred.

“Class, class! I am speaking and you will give me your attention. Whose book is this?”

The students straightened in their seats and focused on Ms. James, but nobody claimed the book.

What is going on?

“So this doesn’t belong to anyone? Nobody in this room has ever seen this?”

She began to walk around the room, confronting each student with the dilapidated little book.

“Okay, well if someone suddenly remembers that this book is theirs, you may come get it from me today. Alright get out your textbooks and turn to page 418.”

Sadie tossed the notebook into her desk drawer and locked it. The day went on and drained nearly every drop of patience from Sadie like it always did. She had forgotten about the notebook hours ago and began making her clean up rounds as soon as the students funneled out of the room. Carl came by for the trash and Sadie, in an attempt to make up for yesterday, tried to ease his workload.

“Oh hi Carl! The trash isn’t very full, you can skip my room today.”

“It’s my job, I have to take the trash.” he spat back.

“I just was trying to make it a little –oh forget it.”

She stomped over to the can, picked it up, and jabbed it into his hands.

“No need to get huffy,” he scoffed and turned to empty the contents of the can. “Didja mean to toss this?” Carl reached in and pulled a ratted black notebook out of the trash.

The color left Sadie’s face. Silently and slowly she took the book from Carl and walked back to her desk.

Carl shot Sadie a subtle scowl and left. As soon as he was gone Sadie unlocked the drawer and sure enough, the notebook was gone.

How?

Sadie could not figure it out. It didn’t make any sense. No student could have gotten to it. Nobody could have gotten to it. She was suddenly overcome by the urge to rid herself of the creepy little book. She hastily gathered her things and headed to 5404 ½ Norman Way.

Sadie walked with purpose but her thoughts were consumed by the mystery of the notebook. Abruptly she stopped and looked around; Norman Way was not the safest street in town. Sadie reached into her purse and slipped a small canister of pepper spray into the palm of her hand. She unlatched the safety lock on it and resumed her mission.

5398, 5400, 5402…5404 here it is.

She looked up at the house in front of her. The house didn’t match its surroundings at all. It was clean with a nice, well-manicured lawn; it even looked freshly painted. Sadie made her way to the front door and rapped at the door handle. No answer. She tried again. Nothing. She peered into the nearest window and was rattled when she found the house completely empty.

Must be going on the market.

Feeling emboldened by her pepper spray and wanting to be rid of the notebook, Sadie cautiously walked to the side of the house to try to find 5404 1/2. Before she reached the back yard, just beyond the grass driveway on the side of the house, she came upon a tent and a piece of painted wood that read 5404 ½.

What the hell.

It took everything in Sadie to not turn and run. Slowly, Sadie approached the tent. It was small, just big enough for a child. Sadie bent down, pulled the flap aside, and peered in. Just as quickly as she had looked in, she dropped the flap and shuffled backwards, breathing heavily and darting looks all around.

What the hell.

She took a deep breath and crawled back to the tent, looking side to side as she did. She crept once more to the opening and peeled the flap back just enough to confirm what she had seen: stacks and stacks of bound hundred dollar bills. There had to have been at least $200,000 there. Sadie’s heart began to race and beads of sweat began to form on her brow and lip. She couldn’t form a complete thought; nothing made sense. In a panicked decision, Sadie quickly gathered the heap of cash into the blanket it was stacked on. She bundled it tight and held it close. She chucked the little black notebook into the tent as she stumbled to her feet. She paused, just for a moment, where considered dropping the money and running without looking back. Instead, she gripped her treasure tightly and ran in the direction of her house.

...

The next day at school, Ms. James’ 4th graders waited impatiently outside the classroom as the morning bell finished its scream. After a few minutes, the principal jogged down the hallway shuffling a giant ring of keys in his hand. Carl was coming out of the bathroom with his mop.

“Carl! Carl thank goodness, can you unlock Ms. James’ classroom please?”

The flustered principal urged Carl to hurry with the frantic gesturing of his hands. Carl leisurely made his way through the crowd of 11 year-olds, unlocked the door, and flipped on the lights. The kids pushed through the door and the principal followed them in. Carl returned to his mop and began down the hallway.

“Carl! Carl!”

Annoyed, Carl turned as the principal approached him with the small trash can from Ms. James’ room.

“Carl it’s your job to empty the trash at the end of every school day. With all the budget cuts Carl, you should mind your duties.” He shoved the bin into Carl’s hands and strode back to the classroom.

“Now kids we’re getting a sub in here as fast as we can. In the meantime why don’t you—”

The principal’s voice drifted from Carl’s ears as the door slid to a close. He peeked in the trash can and there at the bottom, was a tattered, little black notebook. Puzzled, Carl pulled it out and curiously flipped through it. Just a list of names. Immediately bored, he went to toss it back into the trash but something suddenly registered in his mind, something familiar. There on the last page, scribbled in faded ink was the name, Sadie James.