Class - Cecily Von Ziegesar [33]
“Shhh,” Wills whispered as they clambered out of the car. “Be werry, werry quiet.”
“Hey dude, you knit?” Liam whispered, tweaking Nick’s hat as they approached the Dumpster.
“Nah,” Nick responded. It occurred to him that the Grannies might be a harmless-looking Grateful Dead cover band by day and torturous psycho killers by night. Had they brought him here to stuff his mouth full of brown bananas so he couldn’t scream while they took turns scalping him and pulling out his toenails? He pulled the flaps of his hat down over his ears again, steeling himself.
The Dumpster was gigantic and black and stank of rotting cabbages. The Grannies were experts. They had their method down pat. First Grover got down on his hands and knees. Then Liam climbed onto Grover’s back and got down on his hands and knees. Then Wills climbed aboard and did the same, his red and black skirt draping elegantly over Liam’s shoulders.
“Come on,” Wills called to Nick. “You go first. You gotta experience a virgin dive.”
Nick climbed the human ladder, careful to distribute his weight evenly. When he was up on Wills’s back, he peered into the blackness of the Dumpster.
“Go on, get in there,” Liam urged.
The sickly sweet smell of rotten fruit was so powerful Nick could hardly breathe. He closed his eyes and, using Will’s back as a springboard, somersaulted into the depths of the Dumpster.
“Cannonball!” Grover shouted as Nick dropped down into the garbage.
His back hit something hard and he rolled away from it, pain shooting down his spine to his coccyx. Before he could orient himself, a harsh light shone in his eyes. Fuck! Was Shop ’n Save Security after him already? Nick blinked, making out a pair of pale blue eyes behind the flashlight’s beam. The furry-faced creature brandishing the flashlight held up a heavy book with an illustration of an erupting volcano on its cover.
“Hello,” Nick said cautiously. He sneezed. “Sorry to disturb you.”
The blue eyes blinked and a voice mumbled something complicated about the survival of a unit of life.
It was Sunday. Patrick had been reading his book inside the Dumpster for over an hour, waiting for the bakery staff to throw out all the out-of-date bread, a regular Sunday night Shop ’n Save ritual. French bread, Tuscan farm bread, kaiser rolls, and bagels. Sometimes there were muffins and donuts too. He’d fill the trunk of the Mercedes and live on the stuff all week. The last thing he wanted was to share his cache with a bunch of stoned Dexter idiots.
Trembling, Nick took an unsteady step forward on the stinking heap of garbage. A grapefruit swelled and then gave way beneath the sole of his Birkenstock, bursting with the sweet, acrid odor of overripe citrus. He squinted into the harsh ring of light, trying to get a better look at the guy. Maybe he was just another Dumpster diver, who, without the comradeship of the Grannies, had gotten lost along the way.
Nick took another wary step and sneezed again. “We’re just looking for some…tasty raw vegetable ingredients? For our curry?” he told the guy, feeling stupid.
“Hey!” The flashlight swung toward him. “Get the hell away from me!” The stranger’s voice was throaty and vicious. “Leave me alone!”
“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Sheepish and terrified, Nick backed away. “Guys, can you help me? I want to get out!” he called out to the Grannies. He didn’t care how many perfect pineapples he left behind. He jumped up and clawed helplessly at the Dumpster’s inner wall before toppling back inside it again.
“Get anything good?” Wills asked, dangling his arms inside the Dumpster. He spotted the flashlight, still pointed at the back of Nick’s frightened head. “Holy shit! Come on, man.” Wills flapped his hands at Nick urgently. “What the hell? Who is that?”
Nick grabbed his hands and Wills heaved him out of the Dumpster. The other two Grannies were still in their two-tiered Ringling Brothers formation, but the force of Will’s heaves and Nick’s extra weight sent them crashing.
“Aw, ya broke it! You broke my neck!