SHADOWS IN THE GLASS - by Lance Dean - Chapter 14 (3)

Tripod started twitching when he smelled it so Larry Kincaid knew there was something good in the dumpster. He flipped the lid open and gingerly crawled inside, avoiding contact with the hot metal sides of the container.

Tripod, his three-legged pug companion, grew so excited while sniffing around the bottom that he had an asthma attack. He did an agitated jig, hopping on his lone front leg while sucking in shallow rattling breaths as fast as he could.

"Easy boy. Calm down." Larry poked among the rubbish.

He lifted a wadded up fast food bag. It felt heavier than just paper. Inside was a wrapper with the remains of a hamburger. He tossed it to the dog, who swallowed it in a gulp. Tripod sniffed some more. His stub of a tail furiously wagged for several moments. Then he started wheezing again.

"Aw geez, calm down. I'm looking." Whenever Tripod had one of his attacks it filled Larry with a queasy mixture of worry, guilt, and the lingering suspicion that the dog was working him like a professional grifter.

Larry lifted a piece of cardboard and peered beneath. A heavy plastic bag caught his eye. The top was knotted shut. He picked the knot open and found different sized bundles packed inside. He pulled one out. It was about four pounds. Butcher wrapped in newspaper.

Larry unfurled the paper. Tripod finally gasped in a good breath of air and shot foot-long streamers of snot out of his nostrils to clear them. He whined and danced, sensing the prize.

Larry's eyes widened. He let out a whoop. "Pork chops! A bunch of them."

Tripod let out a series of excited yips and fluttered a celebratory flag of phlegm in the air.

Dubiously Larry responded, "I don't know ..."

Tripod yipped twice. Sneezed. Then asked, "Awrrrm?"

Larry sighed, "I know they say trichinosis isn't a problem, but you can't believe everything you read. Maybe it's because people finally learned to cook pork thoroughly. Ever think of that smarty-pants?"

Tripod let out a snotty sigh.

"So you'll have to wait until I cook this up. Then you can have all you want. It looks like there's plenty here."

Tripod began to wheeze.

"It's okay boy. Calm down."

Tripod wheezed louder. Larry sighed. "All right, all right. The sidewalk will probably cook it before you can eat it."

He grabbed a chop and tossed it onto the pavement. Tripod's asthma attack miraculously subsided. The dog dug his teeth into the meat. He carried it into the shade and plopped on his belly so he could use his front paw to help him tear it.

Larry never figured out how to get along with people. They took advantage of his gentle disposition. In time he came to believe the fault was his own, an unavoidable aspect of his nature. Cutting human companionship from his life seemed to be a survival necessity. Eventually he discovered he was better off without possessions also. Whatever you owned made you a target to whoever wanted it. Tripod was Larry's only friend and even the dog took advantage of him. At least Tripod was sincere in his affection.

As Larry removed more packages, the size of the prize became more apparent. There was at least fifty pounds of meat in the bag. People didn't throw away good meat. Larry figured it must be expired product from a nearby restaurant. It still smelled good though and Larry trusted his nose. The dumpster was baking hot, but the rubbish insulated the meat. The packages were still cold. They were probably frozen when they were thrown away.

It was more than they could eat. He couldn't take the whole thing on the bus.

Decisions decisions.

The safest thing would be to cook it. Once cooked, it could keep for days in his Styrofoam ice chest.

He wadded the newspaper around the remaining chops and set them aside. Started pulling out other packages. Might as well get the best ones.

Larry's bedroom window was cut into a cardboard box but it looked out on a mountain view. At least it felt like a mountain to the fifty year old man and three legged dog when they climbed it each day.

His camp was tucked into a discreet corner of an undeveloped foothill in Apache Junction. He tucked his house behind a rock when he was gone. It was a convertible affair. Several large pieces of cardboard that he arranged as needed to provide padding and block the sun. He kept a bedroll, the ice chest, and his few belongings there.

Larry pulled more packages out. Different cuts, chops, roasts, steaks, some fillets, others with the bone in. He wasn't sure what he was looking for but he needed to empty the bag to use it. Perhaps there was something spiced or marinated. That would be a prize. His only spices were a handful of salt and pepper packets he kept in an mint tin.

The second to last package was different. Lighter, oblong, rounded, flat on top. A bowl? Perhaps a sauce. Just what Larry needed to turn this bounty into a feast.

Careful to keep it from spilling, Larry peeled back the newsprint to reveal the treasure. At first his brain couldn't process what he was seeing. There was a gray gelatinous substance that looked like congealed gravy. The gravy had frozen into strange shapes, following the ornate symmetry of the bizarre serving dish.

Then Larry realized what he was looking at. He involuntarily let out a cry and sprang to his feet, dropping the package. It was a cross section of an animal's head. Cleanly cut through the bone and brain, leaving half of the skull intact, face down in the paper.

Larry's tailbone introduced itself to the side of the canister with a dull thud. Larry rested there, gasping in the fetid air. Shaking like a leaf.

Tripod let out an inquisitive growl, muffled by the chop.

Larry chuckled at himself. Leaning his tired ass against the hot metal, knee deep in rubbish and decay, his shakes rattled out of him as tired laughter. He had squealed like a schoolgirl. Nearly pissed himself. Actually, upon closer attention, he actually had peed a bit. At what? A sheep's head.

He was an old fool. He shook his head. Pushed away from the metal and stood up. He opened his eyes. At his feet the newspaper lay open like a bloodstained flower blooming out of the filth. The contents were face up a few inches away.

A man's face.

The eyeless sockets gazed up at Larry. The man's mouth was gone. His cheeks and lips removed. Gums and teeth fully exposed. The jaw was open. The tongue gone, cut from the throat.

Larry's bladder emptied itself.