Solid Waste Disposal Site

Two friends form strong bonds and wax philosophically over anarchy and chaos in small town America.

 They had gathered up the necessary equipment already. One, two and one-half inch diameter pipe cutter. That was all. It was his father’s. The pipe cutter was hung up next to two others, one smaller and one larger, along with several other tools coalescing on the wall inside his father's tool shed.

   "It's about eleven pm now. Give it another half hour and we'll head down there," Dax said.

   "What do you think? It will take us thirty minutes or so to get there," Richard said.

  "Yeah, about that. Half hour down. Probably a little longer to get back. We'll be back by one am. No one will notice. They're already in bed anyway."

   "You're Dad got any that beer around," Richard asked.

   "Yeah, there's some in the cooler out back. Just don't take too many or my dad will notice."

   "Sure man. You want any?"

   "No, I'm good for now," Dax said.

   Around the corner of the house, Richard found the white and blue cooler and opened it. The cooler was filled with partially melted ice and Canadian Labatt Blue. A by-product of the party Dax's father had thrown a few hours earlier. Richard quickly popped open the can and chugged the beer. It was refreshing and odd tasting and he wasn't sure he liked it but as soon as he finished one he opened another. Tossing the empty can into the woods and walking back to the shed out front where Dax had been fiddling with some Styrofoam and a large bucket.

   "Hey, grab that gas can in the shed will you," Dax said.

   "Yeah, sure. What are you doing?"

   "Just get the can."

   Richard went into the shed and retrieved a five-gallon red plastic can, half-full with gasoline.

   "Here," Richard said to Dax as he handed him the can.

   "Ok, now hold the bucket while I pour," Dax said.

   Dax slowly started pouring the gasoline into a five-gallon white bucket which was filled with blocks of tv packing material and some of those non-biodegradable Styrofoam peanuts. The tv packing Styrofoam was broken down into smaller chunks so it would fit neatly into the bucket and the peanuts were poured over the top creating a collage of marshmallow Styrofoam. Next to the bucket laid a five-foot-long thin wooden pole and a few more pieces of Styrofoam.  

   As Dax poured, he paused every few seconds to stir the concoction of gasoline and Styrofoam, carefully working to create the perfect mixture. The gasoline fumes rose up out of the mixture and punctured Richard’s nose. The liquid quickly started breaking down the Styrofoam creating a gooey substance.

   "You want to stir," Dax asked.

   "Yeah, sure," said Richard as he grabbed the wood pole from Dax.

   "It's looking good isn't it," Richard said.

   "Yeah, nice and thick and sticky. Perfect for burning s**t," Dax replied.

   Dax stopped what he was doing and ran back into the shed where he grabbed a lid for the bucket.

   "Here, let me have that," Dax asked taking the stirring stick back. He then carefully cleaned it off by running it against the edge of the bucket.

   "We'll save this for later. When we get back," said Dax as he capped off the bucket with the lid.

   "You want to head there now," said Richard.

   "Yeah, let's do it."

 

   Walking down the two-lane blacktop of Crescent Lake road the two boys talked about life. Like Phaedrus and Socrates had done hundreds of years ago. They discussed good times and what it all meant. They questioned their existence and their feelings about reality and the irrationality of emotions. They talked about anarchy and chaos and what they would do to all the people they hated. Richard and Dax, two philosophers, friends.

   "The grass isn't always greener on the other side," Dax said.

   "I see your point, but if the grass isn't greener, then what are we chasing?"

   "Car," Richard said prompting the two to scurry off the road onto a narrow embankment.

   "Society tells us to chase. To reach for something. To have goals. But I don't see any goals and why have goals in the first place? Society is bullshit." said Richard.

   "Society is the chaos on which we thrive," said Dax.

   "Society is the chaos on which we thrive. Damn, I like that," Richard said.

   "Without chaos, there would be no order. Without goals, there would be no...," Dax paused for a moment, "...dirtbags."

   "Dirtbags like us, huh Dax."

   "Yeah Richy, dirtbags like us."

   "So what's the plan anyway," said Richard.

   "I'll cut it while you watch out for cars."

   "And what about when we get it cut. How do we get it back?" Richard asked.

   "We carry it dumbass," Dax replied, “we’ve gone over this already.”

   "Yeah, I know that. I mean there are lots of cars. How do we get it back to your house without getting caught?"

   "Oh, well we'll just take our time. Every time we see a car or hear a car anywhere close, we'll just throw the sign down in the bushes and keep walking past it. Just like we didn't even know it was there."

   "Oh, ok good. Thank makes sense. Solid plan," Richard replied hesitatingly.

   "I'm going to ask out Heather," said Dax.

   "Yeah?"

   "Yeah, next week. During lunch. You'll have to leave us alone while I'm doing it."

   "I guess. Just let me know when or before," said Richard, "good for you."

   Richard liked her Heather too, but he wasn't sure he liked her in that way. He hadn't had too many friends who were girls and he definitely hadn't had a girlfriend. He was always too scared to talk to girls. Dax, on the other hand, had already had a girlfriend. Last summer he told Richard he dated a girl for a few weeks. A friend of a friend from out of town. She had sucked his dick while his other friend was in the kitchen. Richard wondered what that might be like and the thought aroused him, giving him a half-chubby.

    Several moments passed before anyone said anything else. Richard stopped thinking about Heather or his dick, which thankfully quickly tampered itself down. The boys were about half-way when Richard spoke up again.

   "Silence is a strain on my most precious feelings,"

   "What," said Dax.

   "Silence is a strain on my most precious feelings. Something I'm working on. It's called Nature. I started writing it last night."

   "Yeah, what is it about?"

   "Well, I guess it's about nature or the reality of nature. I believe reality is a choose-your-own-adventure book. Things are laid out for you, but during particular points in your life you are given a choice to go one way or another. Each choice will lead you on a path you might not have otherwise gone. Take us for example. If I had not been friends with Kevin Boyd we would have never met. But it was that choice I made that changed everything," Richard continued, "I still hate that dude. But without him, we may never have become friends."

   "Interesting," said Dax.

   "Yeah, right? Anyway, I'm still working on it. I'll let you read it when I am done."

 

   "Alright, there it is," said Dax, "keep a look out for cars."

   "Hey dude, you know what I am going to do with that when I get a place of my own? I’m going to put it right above my toilet," said Richard, "wouldn't that be perfect?"

   Dax chuckled as he tightened the pipe cutters onto the large metal post holding the Solid Waste Disposal Site sign they both were looking forward to bringing back to Dax’s. They had been thinking about this operation all week, though it wasn't much different than the other signs they had stolen. This one was much farther away and much closer to town.

   Just a few hundred feet away, the town of Madison hummed with the movement of quiet country living. It was steady but slow. A few cars could be heard in the distance. And over the slight rolling road and down into the dwarfish valley men and women were going about small town business. Convenient store thrift shopping and wetting their pallets at the local watering hole or several watering holes, cheap beer and a few angry drunks, backroom karaoke, a family coming home from a quick road trip to the mall, w****s getting financed at the shady inn motel, good ole’ boys getting in little skirmishes and up on the hill, two teenagers wearing black hoodies and stealing road signs. The main grocery store in town was probably still open, Richard thought. He was thirsty, but that grocery store didn't carry Jolt Cola. The only store that did was a mile away on the other side of town.

   "Car," said Richard.

   Dax stopped what he was doing immediately and walked over to Richard who had been standing near the road attempting to act casual. The sign was tucked fifteen feet inside a driveway. Far enough away from traffic that if anyone stopped they wouldn't immediately notice anything was out of order, other than two guilty looking teenagers on the side of the road at the dead of night.

   The headlights of the car were getting close now and Richard began to feel uneasy, his palms began to sweat. His heart started racing. He attempted to start a half-conversation with Dax as a way to calm his nerves when the car slowed down upon approaching the boys. Richard could feel his heart pumping much faster now. The car was just a few feet away, he looked over it Dax with a look of fright and concern. Dax smiled but didn’t say anything. The car finally sped back up as it passed the boys and headed off and out of sight.

   "Whew, that was close. How much longer," said Richard.

   "It's taking a while to cut. Hard to get through this pipe," Dax replied.

   The next few moments were tense for Richard. Dax was hard at work turning the pipe cutters clock-wise around the two-inch diameter sign post. Richard was left to himself, watching patiently for cars but none were coming. A feeling which should have calmed him, just made him more anxious. He wasn’t cut out for this. Didn’t have the stones to be doing things like this. Richard knew he would never do this alone, but he also loved his friend. His brother. And he knew the two of them were connected.

   Richard felt like Dax had saved him. After his parents’ divorce it was Dax who invited him in and kept him safe. When he needed to leave home for a few days, Dax let him stay at his place. Dax and Richard spent countless lazy afternoons together after school, pirating software, burning music cd’s and playing Duke Nukem. But it was Dax who wanted to play harder. He got himself a copy of the Anarchist cookbook and suddenly their sessions of Duke Nukem turned into napalm and pipe bombs. Richard liked that all of course, but he was always fearful of getting caught. Dax never seemed to care about that.

   "Almost got it," Dax said.

   "Yeah?" Richard replied.

   "Yeah, come give me a hand."

   Richard walked over to Dax and the two boys tugged on the sign at the point where the pipe cutters had gashed open the pole. Immediately the sign came loose and fell to the ground. The enormous metal diamond gave off a pinging sound on the ground as it rustled and popped and eventually rested, but the pole continued to ring and Richard placed his hand on it to dampen the noise.

   "Any cars coming," said Dax.

   "Let me check, one sec."

   Richard walked back to the road, stood with his two feet pulled together and his legs tight like a flamingo drinking water. He peered down the road towards the town first and then the way back to Dax's house. The first part had been easy, they weren't guilty of anything before cutting the sign down, but now they were committing a crime and getting caught was not an option. Richard stressed thinking of the untold stories of capture on the larceny train where the punishment was swift and severe. No doubt his Dad and Mom would kill him. Not to mention possible jail time and dealing with the cops. Dax was much more lax about the whole thing. He just didn't seem to care anymore. Not that he really cared in the first place. For him, anarchy was life. It was what he was meant to do.

   "Any cars," said Dax.

   "No, let's go," Richard replied.

   "Grab that end, and I'll get this one," said Dax as he grabbed the business end of the pole. Richard grabbed the other end. With Dax in front, the two began the long march back to Dax's house, Solid Waste Disposal Site on their right and ready to be dumped at a moment’s notice.

 

   "Hey this is easy," Richard said, "I haven't seen a car yet and we're almost there."

   "Yeah, late at night there is no one around. Except maybe the drunks coming home from the bar. And what do they care anyway? They're just trying to get home like we are," said Dax.

   "Car," said Dax.

   "Spoke too soon," Richard replied.

   "Toss it in the bushes right here and let's keep walking."

   They boys tossed the road sign into the bushes on the side of the road and proceeded to walk forward while the car passed them. This time, the car didn't slow down and as soon as it passed the boys walked back to the sign, picked it out of the bushes and continued forward. Another car was spotted ahead of Dax just a hundred feet from where they last dropped the sign. The boys continued with the same procedure; toss the sign into the bushes, walk forward casually until the car passes. The car passed without notice.

   The next car to come along came about two-thirds of the way to Dax's house, this time from Richard's side.

   "S**t, toss it quick," said Richard.

   There weren't any bushes in the section of the road. Just someone's front yard and their house. The boys were careful to place the sign face down so the colored part did not reflect on the passing headlights of the approaching car. Dax and Richard started to walk up the road, without the sign. The boys didn't have much time to walk away from the sign this time, however. The car was right on them when it honked startling Richard causing him to jump. Someone yelled out from the car, f**k you suckers! The car then veered half into the other lane, passed the two boys on the left and sped away quickly.

   "F**k you a******s," Richard yelled out to the fading vehicle, "can you believe that s**t? Who were those fuckers anyway?"

   "I don't know. Probably someone we know from school. One of the jocks or someone like that."

   "Come on, let's go. We're almost there.”

Author's Note

I want to know how you feel about reading this story. What catches your attention? How do you feel about the two boys in the story? Does the story need more and would you want to hear more about these two characters?

Reviews

[Eleanor Whittaker]

It's a good story, would definitely want to hear more from the characters and what they plan to do. Some of the speech is not so realistic but nearly all of it is good, very well structured.