After eating their fill and another long walk, the two of them reached the outer confines of a warehouse. The flimsy door was held with a sophisticated lock that looked stronger than the hinges it was precariously dangling from. Once the door swung open with a mighty squeak, the Garbage Woman revealed the contents of her holdings. The insides were filled with hundreds if not thousands of piles of precariously balanced abandoned pieces of useless clothing, furniture, empty containers and bottles that produced a toxic smell far more overwhelming than the Girl’s body odor.
“What’s that pile over there?”, she asked, pointing at the tower of smelly glass barrels containing oddly-coloured objects that looked disturbingly familiar.
“Those are my cut hair, fingernails, skin flakes and pee. I figure they might come in handy someday. If I ever need to provide an urine sample, I’ll be ready.”
“Has anyone ever asked?”
“No, but it’s only a matter of time. Waste not, want not.”
That certainly explained the Garbage Woman’s odd behavior in the bathroom. Somehow, despite only bringing a single lunch with her, she wound up coming out with more than when she came in.
After adding the day’s contents into their respective piles, she dug into a random bottle of fingernails and pulled out a single cuticle indistinguishable from all the others. “I remember the trouble I had with this one. It was a muggy day, and this was poking through my gloves, and I couldn’t remove it, lest I be seen slacking off. I thought breaktime would never come.”
The Garbage Woman continued: “But I shouldn’t complain. I have to keep working so I can afford to keep all these, otherwise, they’ll come and take it all away.”
“And this whole warehouse is yours?”
“No, the whole block. This is the least crowded one, though I’m starting to run out of room again. I may need to get another warehouse soon.”
The Girl looked around. There still seemed to be plenty of room. “Can I crash here for a few days?”
The Garbage Woman looked a little uncomfortable. “You could, but...”
“I won’t disturb your collection much. I just need a soft place to lie down.”
“Actually, I was going to suggest you come over at my place.”
This was a welcome suggestion, since the Garbage Woman wasn’t among the crowded lineup waiting outside the Factory this morning. Instead, she showed up later, which suggested that she lived somewhere nearby. If the Girl could stay with her, she could avoid sleeping outside, and join her on the way to work.
As it turned out, her place wasn’t too far away from the Warehouse. In fact, it was inside one of the Warehouses. A quick U-turn and unlocking later revealed a tiny alcove that’d been dug out from the debris of multiple collections that was constantly teetering on the danger of collapse.
“Be careful. I don’t want you to get trapped,” the Garbage Woman said, leading the way down a tunnel of carefully laid trash with protrusions jutting out from every corner. There were multiple series of tunnels leading in multiple directions, which would make it easy to get lost.
It was a wonder she knew exactly where everything was. According to legend (the symbols on a map), several of the paths were dead ends, loops or boobytrapped. Apparently, there was a hidden signal embedded in the lining that only the Garbage Woman could see. Anybody else traversing this maze would only be a new addition to her ever-growing collection.
When they finally made it through into a clearing, the Girl was surprised. There was a front entrance that seemed out of place in this mish-mash collection of refuse.
“This is my old house. I’ve never thrown anything away.”
Somehow, the Garbage Woman had managed to pilfer in the remains of her house inside the Warehouse. And there was still cluttered remains on the tables, beds and chairs. Before getting in, she pointed to the welcome mat at the front door.
“Wipe your feet. I don’t want you getting the place all dirty.”
This was laughable. The whole place was nothing but dirty. It was like the Garbage Woman didn’t even see the amount of intrusive stuff surrounding her in the first place.
“Please excuse the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.” And she went about, moving excess junk in another location to make room for her guest.
While the Garbage Woman’s offer was generous, the Girl half-wished she’d stayed at the other warehouse. It was roomier there than here. In fact, the only item not completely encrusted with dirt was a hanged award citing a Certificate of Cleanliness. And that was because it was laminated in dust-free wrapping.
Moving further in, they made their way to one of the less cluttered rooms, which didn’t mean much - just that there was slightly more space to stand. It was much cleaner than expected, considering the conditions. ‘Clean’, being a relative term, like saying a hairball is cleaner than a dustball because there are no flakes in it.
The Garbage Woman waved around with a flourish and proudly proclaimed, “All this you see here is the result of numerous renovations. I’ve had additional rooms added from multiple extensions and additions throughout the years.”
“So, how many rooms - ”
“I’ve got Thirty-Four Kitchens, Fifty-Five Dining Rooms, Thirteen Living Rooms, Twenty Family Rooms, Fifteen Bedrooms, A Hundred and Five Hallways, Fifty Offices, Sixty Closets, Seventeen Libraries, Five Panic Rooms, Seven-and-a-half Floors, Three Elevators, a Bathroom, Forty Chimneys, Forty-Seven Fireplaces and Thirty-Three Attics.”
“Only ONE Bathroom?”
“What do I need so many Bathrooms for? That seems excessive.”
There was a long period of silence where the two of them stared at each other, daring the other to speak out, surrounded by sharpened to pieces pencils that still had some lead in them, absolutely filthy rags with a tiny clean patch somewhere, broken glasses (both wearable and drinkable) and hundreds of assorted doodads and knicknacks that lined the confines of the confined room until the Garbage Woman broke the uneasy peace.
“I hardly ever have any visitors over.”
“Alright then”, the Girl said, throwing her hands up and rolling her eyes. “Where is it?”
“Oh, you can’t use it. It’s already filled up.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
You can use this”, the Garbage Woman said, handing over a filthy bucket. “It’s my second-favorite.”
“I’m honoured. What about your favorite bucket?”
“Oh no, I’m saving that for special occasions.”
As the Girl squatted down and teetered precariously over the crusted chamber pot with her pants drawn, she delicately asked, “Haven’t you ever considered throwing some of your stuff away?”
“I’ve tried. Oh How I have tried. But every time I go, I always wind up finding and bringing back more stuff than I started with.”
“How can you possibly live like this? Your place’s so crowded!”
“It’s not Completely full. There’s still room on the ceiling.”
As the Girl got up after relieving herself in the bucket, she didn’t feel particularly relieved. She wondered where the Garbage Woman was going to put her waste - everywhere else was already full. The Garbage Woman inspected the contents.
“Hmm. More liquid than I’d like. Oh well.” And she dumped the excess material in a stovetop that shot flames out upon emptying. “Now, it’s my turn”, and went to pour the remaining excrement she’d been carrying all this time. The Girl was worried about why she was still carrying a bottle of her crap despite not seeing a container, but she shouldn’t have been. It was a rough heating system devised to burn dry turds to heat the place up. The bathroom wasn’t available, but the excess waste could be put to better use here. It could also convert what couldn’t be burned into water, but the Girl would be loathe to drink that.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling pretty tired. Is there someplace I can lie down?”
“Of course. Let me make some room... oh, and you’re going to need a stuffed animal.”
From the Garbage Woman’s tone, she assumed she meant a cute little toy to cuddle as she slept. Instead, it was a fully grown animal that’d had its insides hollowed and replaced with sawdust to appear natural. The options was a deer looking soulfully with its unnaturally dead eyes, or a towering bear mounted in a threatening stance.
“Why do I need these?!”
“To protect you from the Serial Killer Dolls.”, she said, thumbing at the rack of disturbing figurines that had been camouflaged on the shelves with all the other junk.
“Why do you have those?!”
“No one else would take them in.”
The Girl looked around, trying to find a way out, and realized: “There’s no windows. How do you tell the time?”
“That’s easy. All the clocks are broken and have the wrong time. So whatever time it is, it’s probably going to be the wrong one. Either way, I’m going to be either early or late. After all, even a sundial is right once a year.”
As the Girl cautiously lay down in her new resting place, she was struck by how exhausted she was. The bed was better suited to her than she expected. In addition to being unseasonably soft all around, the underlying base allowed enough space to form for her now-expanding stomach. She greatly preferred sleeping on her face, and being unable to do so had been sheer torture, so being able to do this simple act was something of a relief.
However, the unsettling surroundings and claustrophobic atmosphere was overwhelming. The Girl was sure she wouldn’t sleep a wink all night long. Upon hitting the unnaturally soft mattress, she fell asleep almost instantly.
Two hours later, she was disturbed by a movement taking place in her belly. The parasite growing inside her had taken this moment of respite to disturb her slumber at her most vulnerable moment. She was continuously being kicked by complete strangers from inside or outside. Even all on her lonesome, she still couldn’t be left well enough alone.
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