Jostling between an empty Almond Milk and a half-eaten bodega sushi, she found two uneaten slices, a jug and what she thought was an iPhone charger. But the cable was frayed, so back it went into the garbage can.
“Thank God, winter was almost over,” Tali thought. She blew on her ragged, fridged hands, then wiped off the remnants of an unfinished burger with her clean-up kit. Afterwards, the bags were strapped down and it was on to the next block.
Her cart squeaked as she wheeled it down the sidewalk and it made Talia smile. The Donkey, she called it. But that seemed mean now. It was reliable, sure, but it was the sound of the wheels that brought her comfort. They sang. And it made the cold nights a bit less lonely.
Turning onto the next block, she shrugged. Lots of cans but usually meager rewards, and the most dog owners on her route. She thought to skip it then the brake-squeal of an inattentive driver just missing a delivery bike ahead seemed a sign to carry on.
Digging through her essentials bag, she put on her dog gloves. They had an earthy stench of condiments, dog shit and ice cream. Talia’d learned long ago to douse them in a pint or two when she had the chance. It made them just bearable.
The first cans were disappointing, as expected. She stopped at the fourth, though, staring at a jumble of photos. Each was torn in half, showing a young, blond guy on a beach somewhere.
It took her back to the memory of a life she’d almost forgotten. Of happy smiles over cheap wine in a tiny apartment they’d found together. Horror movies on the couch after all-night study sessions, followed by awkward sex she’d really enjoyed. She missed that girl.
As she tossed open the lid on the eighth can, the building door opened and two well-groomed gay men stepped out. Seeing her, they went quiet and gave her the usual “We’re okay with your poverty” smile before hurrying into their waiting Uber.
Two of the next cans were empty. Out-of-town.
On to one of the last and she noticed it was unusually full.
She lifted out the trash bag and set it on the street, curious. Too light for food, but not heavy enough for furniture.
Inside, rubbish covered the top, but underneath was a second bag. She pulled that one out and opened it. Her eyes went wide as she saw a thick, beautifully-lined, teal winter coat. The left sleeve was torn, hanging by a patch of fabric, and the front had a large dark stain. Lifting it up, she knew immediately it was her size.
Tempering her excitement, she brought the stain to her mouth, and gave a scientific lick. Red wine.
She discarded the flannel coat she was wearing and put it on. It was a perfect fit.
Touching the jacket, she closed her eyes and prayed: please, let me still have them.
Talia pulled the black bag she kept in the bottom of her cart open and plunged her hands in it. Her eyes darted left and right as she navigated the contents, then she smiled, and pulled out a bag of powdered white crystals.
Yes! A three-day soak and the red wine’s gone!
Then it was back into the bag, but the hope faded from her face as she rejected find after find. Her fingers, half frozen, slowed.
Then a spark in her eyes and a toothy laugh.
Got it!
Her hand withdrew holding a tiny sewing kit. She hugged the coat tight around herself then sat on the curb, smiling. It made her feel alive again and she didn’t feel the cold or smell the garbage. She felt happy, she felt pretty. She felt like she’d found an old friend that she thought she’d lost.
And blue was her favorite color.