Story 618: Out With the Old, In With the Nothing

            (Friend 2 knocks on Friend 1’s condo door; after a few moments, Friend 1 opens the door wearing coveralls, a hat, and several layers of dust)

Friend 2: …I’m afraid to ask.

Friend 1: Too late – get in.  (Pulls Friend 2 by the wrist into the condo and locks the door shut behind them both, then looks at the other up-and-down) Where’s your protective gear?

Friend 2: (Gestures to self) You said “Dress for a mess” so these are the most worn-out clothes I have; although – (Also looks Friend 1 up-and-down) it seems I forgot to bring along my gas mask.

Friend 1: What?  Oh, forget it – too late for such trifles now!  Let’s go.  (Leads the way to the bedroom in the back of the unit and opens arms wide once through the doorway) Right!  Here’s how far I got so… far.

(Friend 2 takes in all the boxes, books, clothes, photo albums, files, stuff, stuff, and more stuff all over the floor, the bed, and partway up the walls)

Friend 2: Oh… wow….

Friend 1: I know, isn’t it hideous?  We always complain about accumulating junk we don’t need but we never truly realize how much of it we’ve shoved into our lives.  I haven’t even touched the upper shelves in the closet yet, if you can believe it.

Friend 2: (Nodding resignedly) Oh, I can.  And this is the only room you need to go through, yes, please?

Friend 1: (Starts moving piles of clothes into bigger piles on the bed) Yeah – the good thing about moving from your childhood home straight into a smaller space is that I never got a chance to collect mega-sized possessions.  Could you imagine if I tried to shove a table tennis table in here?

Friend 2: But you don’t play.

Friend 1: No, but if I had a huge house all to myself I’d probably start buying stuff like that just to fill it up.  Oh, the soul-crushing cycle of consumerism!

Friend 2: (Tosses away a dirty sock) Spare me.

Friend 1: Sure.  (Abruptly sits in a small cleared-out area on the floor) So: I need you to help me get rid of the paraphernalia.

Friend 2: (Sits nearby in another small cleared-out area on the floor) What, you mean like old school notebooks and broken trinkets and what-not?

Friend 1: Yes.

Friend 2: Don’t need me for that – you know what’s a keeper and what’s garbage.

Friend 1: That’s the thing: I’ll think they’re all keepers.  I need you here to be brutal.

Friend 2: Ah.

Friend 1: No matter how much I beg, plead, or complain, if it’s taking up space and is no longer needed in my life, it’s got – to – go.

Friend 2: If you say so.  Is this a New Year’s resolution thing?

Friend 1: Sort of, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.  I read in a few places recently that it’ll be so much easier to have all these knickknacks no one else’ll care about already gone, for those who’ll wind up having to clean out this place after I kick the bucket.

Friend 2: (Looks up from holding a half-used pencil at different angles) Ugh, morbid.

Friend 1: Hey, we all have to face reality at some point.

Friend 2: Yes, and you’re so good at that.

Friend 1: I’d resent that if it weren’t mostly true; this time though I’m actually being proactively thoughtful with my inevitable exit stage left.

Friend 2: And you realize that I’ll probably be the one cleaning out your stuff – in the far, far distant future, of course.

Friend 1: I doubt it: you’re nicer than I am, so the rule usually is that you’ll go to Heaven first and I’ll be stuck here for a much longer sentence.

Friend 2: Thanks, I think.  (Rummages through a nearby pile and pulls out an old toy car) OK, let’s start small with this: Keep, Donate, or Garbage?

Friend 1: (Takes the car with a smile) Aw, I remember getting this from my grandparents when I was 4 years old – I would zoom it all over the house on its never-ending race around the world!... Mom and Dad weren’t too happy about that.

Friend 2: I’ll bet.  So, Keep?

Friend 1: (Fiddles with the car for a few moments, then shakes head definitively and hands the toy back to Friend 2) No, this can go to the Donate pile: it’s time it made someone else happy.  I’ll always cherish the memories, right up until the moment dementia steals them.

Friend 2: Bleak.  (Clears another open space on the floor and sets down the car) This’ll be the Donate pile, then – you got a bag for Garbage?

Friend 1: (Holds up a contractor bag) Way ahead of you!

Friend 2: Good.  I guess the Keep items will go back into the closet or wherever, then.

Friend 1: Oh, that pile will be extremely small, don’t you worry.  (Winks)

Friend 2: Of course it will.  (Holds up a stuffed animal that is fraying at the seams) How about this one?

Friend 1: (Gasps) Wobbly!  (Grabs the stuffed animal out of Friend 2’s hand and hugs it close) I can’t believe I forgot all about you!  How thoughtless of me!

Friend 2: Uh-huh.  Donate to make someone else happy, then?

Friend 1: (Looks up guiltily) Uh – well – you can see the condition’s not exactly prime – I wouldn’t want to give someone a used stuffed companion –

Friend 2: So, Garbage?

Friend 1: (On an intake of breath) How-dare-you!

Friend 2: Mm-hm; Keep?

Friend 1: I should think so!  (Reaches up to the bed and props the stuffed animal against a pillow) A few stitches’ll fix you good as new, don’t you worry.

Friend 2: OK, moving along – (Holds up a file folder) This looks like class notes.

Friend 1: Really?  (Takes the folder and skims through the papers) Oh, Psych 101!  I needed that freshman year in college!

Friend 2: Yeah, I think everyone in freshman year in college had to take something like that.  Recycling rather than Garbage for those, then?

Friend 1: (Still skimming through the papers) Just a minute… this is really interesting… I practically blew off this class but now that I’m reading this it’s actually very insightful….

Friend 2: That class was over 20 years ago so most of the information is probably outdated.

Friend 1: (Hands back the folder) OK, Recycling.

Friend 2: (Clears another open space on the floor) Group #4.

Friend 1: What a side benefit to all this: we’re saving the Earth on top of everything else.

Friend 2: It’s very unlikely that we’re saving much of anything.  (Holds up a collage) Keep or Garbage?

Friend 1: (Stares at Friend 2) I’m shocked: do you not recognize your younger self with our high school chums in that display?

Friend 2: (Turns around the collage to look at it closely, then recoils in horror) Ah!  Garbage!  (Tries to shove it into the contractor bag)

Friend 1: (Grabs the collage and tosses it onto the bed) Yoink!

Friend 2: All right, but you’d better not post photos of that anywhere or I’ll never speak to you again.  (Holds up a trinket) Garbage or Donate?

Friend 1: Eh, Donate; should make someone’s day.

Friend 2: (Tosses it back over a shoulder and holds up a fancy pen) This looks used – Garbage?

Friend 1: Oh – that was from my first real job – it was kind of a memento – coming of age and all – but the ink’s probably dry –

Friend 2: Garbage.  (Flings it into the open contractor bag, then holds up a photo album) Keep?

Friend 1: Of course.

Friend 2: (Tosses it onto the bed, then holds up a video game cartridge) Donate?

Friend 1: If any system can actually play it now, sure – I kept losing on that one so I’ve no emotional attachment to it.

Friend 2: (Tosses it back over a shoulder, then holds up a diary) Keep or Garbage?

Friend 1: (Narrows eyes at it) Hm… read out the first page for me, please?

Friend 2: (Opens the diary and reads) “Dear Diary, No one understands me – ”

Friend 1: BURN IT!

(Several hours later, everything has been sorted into two towering groups of multiple mini-piles on the floor and one smaller pile on the bed, or put into several contractor bags; Friend 1 and Friend 2 creakily stand up and walk over to the door to admire their work)

Friend 2: Well, I have to say, I didn’t think you could bring yourself to clean out this much and this thoroughly, but you did, and I’m proud of you.

Friend 1: Aw, thanks!  You were a big help – I didn’t think I could’ve parted with as much if you weren’t here to force me.

Friend 2: Well, that’s what friends are for.

Friend 1: Great friend!

(They smile at each other, then stare at the organized mess for a few moments longer)

Friend 1: So, now I’ve got to haul all these to the garbage and recycling dumpsters and a donation center –

Friend 2: (Turns and leaves) Yeah, not that great a friend.

Story 312: Ghost of Garbage Past

            (On a park trail, Hiker is walking at a brisk pace and whistling a merry tune.  Finishing off a plastic water bottle, she tosses it over her shoulder into the bushes off to the side.  Pulling a newspaper out of her backpack, she reads it for a bit while walking and then crumples it up and pitches it overhand into the woods.  She then pulls a bunch of plastic bags out of the backpack, tosses the bundle back and forth between her hands, then lifts one leg to chuck the bag bunch underneath her knee and bank it off a tree.  She pauses in her stride and whistling when she sees a trail marker with a bag hanging on it – a bag obviously filled with animal waste)

            Hiker: (Shaking her head in disgust as she moves on) Dog walkers.

            (She continues on the trail, oblivious to the POV shot shakily watching her through the trees and bushes.  There are cracking branches, crackling leaves, and ominous music, signaling something approaching closer)

            Hiker: (Consulting a trail map) Ugh!  This must be out-of-date – there clearly is not a bridge for me to cross this pesky stream here anymore.  (Crushes the map and throws it into a hollow in a nearby tree, then hears the cracking and crackling as they get closer) Chipmunks must be antsy today.  (Starts walking again as the POV shot shakily and quickly zooms towards her – she finally turns around, widens her eyes, throws her arms out wide, and screams weirdly)

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            (At the trailhead at dusk, three park rangers and Hiker’s Relative assemble)

            Chief Ranger: (To the other rangers) Still no sign?

            Park Ranger 1: (Out of breath) No, and I did the black diamond trail twice.

            Hiker’s Relative: Why?  I told you she only does the blue square trail.

            Park Ranger 1: Oh right, I forgot.

           Park Ranger 2: Well, I did all three blue square trails, and nothing – however, this just lends credence to my argument that we need to install cameras along all the trails, especially since I just now found at least 10 bags of dog poop and they show up at the same time and in the same places each week –

            Chief Ranger: We are not discussing this again: there’s no money in the budget for cameras on all 15 miles of trails here.

            Park Ranger 2: Oh, but there’s money in the budget for all the antibiotics we have to take for infections and the biohazard suits we have to wear, then?!

            (There are rustling trees at the trailhead, indicating something is approaching)

            Hiker’s Relative: What’s that?

          (They all shine flashlights at the shaky POV shot heading closer to them, accompanied by ominous music)

            Chief Ranger: (Mutters) Wish there was enough in the budget for at least stun guns.

            (After a lot of noise, Hiker stumbles out of the woods and into the parking lot; she is covered head-to-toe in all sorts of dripping garbage)

            Hiker: Gross… gross….

            Park Ranger 2: Ghost?

            Park Ranger 1: Ghost!

         (They scream until Chief Ranger smacks them both upside the head; Hiker collapses into Relative’s arms)

            Hiker’s Relative: Gross.

            Chief Ranger: (To Hiker) What happened to you out there?

            Hiker: (Shivering) Unclean… monster… revenge…..

            Park Ranger 2: (Nodding encouragingly) Ghost?

            Chief Ranger: Unbelievable.  Why can’t we just have a normal mugger like every other public place out there?

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

(In a meeting room at the Ranger Station the next day)

Park Ranger 2: (Standing next to a projector screen that has a photo of trash all along a trail on it) And that is why our carry-in/carry-out policy clearly is not working.

Chief Ranger: We’re here to talk about last night’s ghost incident, not your ongoing campaign against the littering trailwalkers.

Park Ranger 2: I felt now was a good time to resurrect the issue, if you get my meaning.

Chief Ranger: I’d rather not; now sit down.  (Park Ranger 2 sits on a folding chair next to Park Ranger 1; Chief Ranger stands to address them) So, after the police interviewed that hiker last night, turns out there’s no actual description of a perp, no known motive, and no real damage done except needing to take a really long shower.

Park Ranger 1: Wait, no description?  She didn’t see the ghost that did it?

Chief Ranger: Well, she said it basically was – (Checks notebook) “A moving mass of garbage.”  Obviously can’t work off of that.

Park Ranger 2: (Shoots hand into the air) Oooh, oooh, I’ve got it!  Maybe it’s not a “ghost” per se: maybe it’s the woods itself attacking people who litter, using their own garbage against them as the perfect form of revenge!

Chief Ranger: …Nah, I like it being a ghost better.  Right – we’re going to spend today walking the trails and seeing if there are any remnants this weirdo spirit may have left behind.

Park Ranger 1: Shouldn’t the cops be doing that?  `Cause we’re not cops.

Chief Ranger: They are doing that, but they don’t know the trails like we do, with all the places people up to no good tend to hang out.  Figure the ghost’d go there, too.

Park Ranger 1: Yeah, I don’t really know all those, either.

Chief Ranger: For the love of – (Grabs a pamphlet titled “Undercover Trails” from a drawer and hands it to Park Ranger 1) Bring this with you and try to memorize at least some of it, please?  And if you two find anything suspicious, radio me and I’ll bring the police to your position.

Park Ranger 2: Does suspicious include –

Chief Ranger: Just if you find any humans, living or after-living, where they shouldn’t be.

Park Ranger 1: (Points to an area on the brochure) Heh-heh, I remember this spot from when I was in high school.

Chief Ranger: Yes, about 500 teenagers have gone there; none of you have any originality.

Park Ranger 1: Oh.  I thought it was special.

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

            (On the trail around where Hiker was garbaged)

            Park Ranger 2: (Wearing gloves and collecting trash into a large bag) Not enough money for cameras – I know it’s the same 27 people spreading their filth wherever they go, I just need to start following them or something.  (Stops suddenly, looking at the full bag) Let’s try this.  (Cringes, then upends the bag to spread the contents onto the middle of the trail; addressing the skies) OH MY.  LOOK WHAT JUST HAPPENED – ALL THESE POTATO CHIP BAGS AND CIGARETTE BUTTS AND WATER BOTTLES AND PLASTIC WRAPPERS AND TISSUES AND WHAT-NOT, JUST ALL OVER THE PLACE.  (Peers closer at the pile)  Are those condoms and tampons?!

           (POV shot shakily and quickly approaches to the sound of cracking branches, crackling leaves, and ominous music; Park Ranger 2 turns around)

            Park Ranger 2: (Eyes widen upon seeing a massive wall of garbage moving quickly closer) I KNEW IT!  (As Wall almost hits, Park Ranger 2 holds out hands) WAIT!  (Wall freezes; Park Ranger 2 quickly picks up all the pieces of garbage again and places them back into the bag) Are you the Ghost of Garbage Past, or are you the Spirit of the Woods, or are you Mother Nature herself?  (Wall shrugs) You know, I’ve been trying to tackle this problem of people tossing their stuff around here like the park is one giant trash bin for years, but there are so many acres and so few of us that it’s felt like a losing battle for some time now.  (Wall shrugs again) You also know, they’re gonna wind up pinning what you did on some unknown rando – I’d say keep on doing it, but no one’ll ever believe who you really are and mend their ways because of that, so what’s the point of you garbaging people?  (Wall marks the word “REVENGE” on the trail) True, but they’re still going to litter anyway, because they learn nothing.  Maybe I can sneak garbage cans onto next year’s budget and have some volunteers sweep through here more often?  (Wall shrugs, then leaves)  Thanks!  Maybe still get dump yourself on some of those jerks though, just to keep them on their toes, know what I mean?

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

            (Back at the Ranger Station)

            Chief Ranger: So none of us found anything?

           Park Ranger 1: Actually, I did find a pot garden and $14 in quarters, but I figured that’s not what you meant.

            Chief Ranger: (To Park Ranger 2) And you?

            Park Ranger 2: I think we won’t be having this problem anymore. (Winks broadly)

            Chief Ranger: What on Earth are you talking about?

           Park Ranger 2: Uh, actually, uh, no one else has reported anything unusual on the trails, and that Hiker called this afternoon saying she’s joining some nature organization that preserves open spaces and such, so… that, should be… that.

           Chief Ranger: What?!  Some freak human or freak inhuman could still be out there dumping garbage all over taxpayers, and you think it’s case closed?!

         Park Ranger 2: (Looks out the window at the gently swaying trees) We’ve come to an arrangement.

             Chief Ranger: Now that’s just creepy.

Story 283: The Moon Did Not Appreciate the Landing

(Approximately 13 billion Earth years after the Big Bang/1,969^th orbit of the Earth during the human Common Era)

Earth: Ahem.  Say there, Moon?

Moon: [Oh, bother me] Hey Earth, how is… everything… with you lately?

Earth: Not so good, and getting worse with each rotation.  As I’m sure you’ve guessed.

Moon: Oh, it’s not so bad; from here I can’t even tell anything’s wrong.  Much.

Earth: Well, it’s better you can’t tell how epically the sentient apex predator experiment on this planet has failed.  Which brings me to why I caught your attention earlier.

Moon: Yeah, sure thing, what’s happening?

Earth: So, you know all that junk that’s been stuck in orbit around me lately?

Moon: Oh, well, one doesn’t like to point out such things, but yeah.  I have been getting a bit concerned about the increasing volume of it, actually: are your inhabitants going to be cleaning all that up soon, then?

Earth: Far from it: I wanted to warn you that those apes-with-airs are planning to climb into some sort of container and shoot themselves right out of my gravity for the sole purpose of landing on you.

Moon: Heh-heh-heh – what?  Are you serious?

Earth: Sadly, yes.

Moon: But how – I don’t understand, that shouldn’t even be theoretically possible, we’re too far away from each other for them to get halfway here!

Earth: Unfortunately, they figured out how to warp my materials to make stuff that’ll carry them fast enough and far enough to get them to you and back here to me without utterly obliviating them.

Moon: I don’t believe it.

Earth: They figured out the math.

Moon: Noooo, not the math!  Earth, how could you let them do this?!

Earth: Don’t pin this on me; they’ve been slowly killing me and every other living creature here for ages now – I’ve been a bit busy trying to maintain homeostasis in the face of that while simultaneously trying to figure out how to wipe them all out with as minimal collateral damage as possible.  They also don’t listen to me much.

Moon: This is a nightmare!

Earth: Tell me about it – I first was hoping that the damage to the air, land, and sea would at least preserve the microbes and the cockroaches, but that’s taking too long so now I’m banking on their insistence upon manipulating their own genetic building blocks to create a virus that would at least sterilize their entire species.  It would fit my sense of justice.

Moon: Oh Earth, you just know if they make it over here, they’ll completely destroy me with their junk!  And they won’t stop with that; you know Mars will be next!

Mars: Huh?

Moon: Go back to sleep; you’ve at least got a few more decades of peace left.

Earth: I’ll tip you off when they point their monstrosity in your direction; all I can say when they begin to break free from me is “Brace yourself.”

Moon: Ohhh, I wish I were a comet on my way out of this solar system!

(After the Moon landing)

Earth: Whelp, the interlopers splashed back down on me, safe and sound.

Moon: Oh, goody for them.

Earth: So, what’s the damage?

Moon: Let’s see, shall we?  They left behind their huge lander, some random pole with a piece of cloth jammed onto my surface, their footprints just everywhere, a bunch of other random garbage, and oh yeah, their flippin’ bacteria!  Which all died in my not-quite atmosphere, but still.

Earth: Bummer.

Moon: And to top it all off, those freaks actually took some of my surface back with them!  They didn’t even ask!

Earth: Heh-heh, “ask.”

Moon: I tell ya, Earth, I don’t know how you’ve put up with those destroyers for as many rotations as you have – I think I would’ve cracked open my surface and swallowed them all up long before now!

Earth: It ain’t easy, and it’s getting worse; a tiny percentage have a clue what’s happening and are trying to make things better, but the rest either overrule them or don’t care.

Moon: Just please don’t tell me they’re planning another trip up here.

Earth: Well….

Moon: Aaaaaahhhh!!!!  I can still see the stuff they used to fly over here, floating for eternity in our orbits!  I swear, the next one of them I see coming my way, I’m breaking orbit and crashing right into you!

Earth: Umm –

Moon: It’s for our own good, Earth!  Problem permanently solved, and we can start over, with us forming a whole new planet!

Earth: See, the thing is, Moon – and it’s a great idea, I’m all for it – the thing is, your crashing into me would definitely put a damper on all life here now, and I have a sneaking suspicion it also would push me out of orbit and we just might – might, mind you – crash into one of our chums out here and/or, perhaps… the Sun?  I’m just thinking worst-case scenario.

Moon: Argh, you’re right.  Although, now that you mention it: hey, Sun!  Hellloooo, Suuuuuunnnnn???!!!

Sun: (Distantly) Oh hi, Earth’s Moon, how are you?

Moon: (Grumbles) Earth’s Moon.  (Yells) Any chance of you going supernova anytime soon?!

Venus: “Supernova?”  Did I hear “supernova???!!!”

Mercury: I heard “supernova!”  What gives, Sun?!

Sun: (Chuckles) No, no supernova destined for me, and right now I’m growing into a red giant that’ll probably swallow up all of you, but that won’t be for awhile – I am still in my prime, you know.

Moon: (Mutters) Spawn of a singularity – (Yells) never mind thank you!

Sun: I can whip up a flare or a prominence, if you like?

Moon: Nope, we’re good here, thanks!  (To Earth) All-powerful star and absolutely no use whatsoever.

Earth: What are we going to do, Moon?  They keep repurposing my elements and shooting them out into space more and more as the years go by, and they’re also planning to send some junk to spy on everything way out there and beyond – and that’s just the beginning, they know once they’ve pretty much killed me they’ll need to track down another rock to infest, what if they find out about –

Moon: Ssh, don’t let them hear you!

Earth: Right.  Maybe they’ll never find it?

Moon: From what we know of them, it’s inevitable they’ll find it.  Maybe we’ll luck out and that invasion force next solar system over will make its way here and take care of the whole problem for us.

Earth: Oh, that would be lovely.  Pluto’s heard that once those folks wipe out the dominant species, they’re super-accommodating to the host planet.