Suzie’s House 422 : Dumpster Diving Son

“Score!!!” While still standing in the dumpster, Jim opened the pizza box so his new buds could all see.

“Wow! A whole, perfectly good pizza. I told you Minnesota was the way to go.” Rick smiled with that smug look that made Jim want to pop him. But you don’t go punching the guy who owns the van.

“Too close to Wisconsin for me,” Jim muttered. After his dad dumped him in Des Moines, Jim couldn’t think of home without feeling the cut of rejection. If even Dad would do that, then for sure Mom and Emma would throw him out.

“Right. Let’s eat.” Bonny got her nose right up in the box, and completely ignoring Jim’s comment.

Jim slammed the lid down. She always did that, shoving her way to the front for a crack at anything good they found. If he didn’t do something, she’d take the first piece.

He didn’t really like Bonny all that much. He liked Cheyenne, but Cheyenne was Rick’s girl. For the moment. Cliff came trotting over from the end of the alley. So with Bonny, Cheyenne, Rick, and Cliff, that made the whole “Van Family” present and accounted for. Jim would have to eat fast to make sure he got at least two slices. He handed the box off to Rick.

“Any more in there?” Rick looked over the lip of the dumpster.

“No. It’s all… like… noxious or something.” Jim took Cliff’s hand and climbed out, ignoring Cliff’s labored breathing. “This is the only good stuff.” He landed on the concrete and bounced a couple of times.

“How can you tell when it’s all like haphazard?” Cheyenne clung to the edge of the dumpster and looked in.

“Haphazard. Hahah. Right.” Bonny acted like the word was a joke.

“Let’s all eat in the van then.” Rick carried the family sized pizza box to the end of the alley where the Technicolor Doodle Van waited for them. He held it like a king bearing his crown to his own coronation.

“Seriously, why can’t we head to L.A.? I bet there’s plenty of pizza there.”

“No, no. Not L.A.” Cliff shivered. “But I’m up for maybe San Diego. I hear it’s nice there.”

“I think we should go back to Portland.” Cheyenne opened the side door on the van and they all piled in on the mattress inside.

“Weren’t we going to Roanoke next? I want to go to Roanoke.”

“I don’t care.” Rick shrugged. He set the pizza right in the middle of the mattress as if it was his gift to them all. “As long as we’ve got something to fly on our signs when we go spanging tomorrow. We’re on empty again.”

“How about you, Big Jim? Where you want to go?” Bonny bumped him with a skinny shoulder.

“I don’t care. Just anywhere that isn’t close to Wisconsin.” He snagged the first slice.

There was a moment of silence. They were probably all thinking about how he’d been ditched. He’d told them everything except about the money his father left for him. It gave him a feeling of solidarity. They all understood him. They all felt the same.

“Right. So as soon as we’ve got some gas we’re getting out of here. I don’t even care where anymore.” Bonny glanced at Rick, waiting for his agreement.

“Yep. We’ll flip a coin. Roanoke or San Diego. Doesn’t matter where, so long as it isn’t here.”

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