Dolly's Trash & Treasures (A Story From the Dark Side) Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dolly's Trash and Treasures

  About The Author

  A Word About Ehrengraf

  Dolly’s Trash and Treasures

  Lawrence Block

  copyright 2011, © Lawrence Block

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by electronic, mechanical or other means, is forbidden without written permission of the author.

  A Story From The Dark Side, by Lawrence Block

  “Mrs. Saugerties?”

  A nod.

  “That would be Dorothy Saugerties? And did I pronounce that correctly? Like the Hudson River town?”

  Another nod.

  “Well, Mrs. Saugerties, I’m Baird Lewis, and this is my colleague, Rita Raschman. We’re with Child Protective Services.”

  No response.

  “One of your neighbors called to express concern over the living conditions here, and how they might impact upon your children.”

  “Haven’t got any.”

  “I beg your pardon? According to our records, you have four children, three girls and a boy, and—”

  “Haven’t got neighbors. This here’s mine, from the road back to the creek. Then there’s state land on that side. Nearest neighbors would be a quarter mile from here.”

  “Well, one of them—”

  “Might be more like a half mile. If it matters.”

  “Baird, may I? Mrs. Saugerties, you do have four children, don’t you?”

  “Did.”

  “They’re not living here now?”

  “Not anymore. Tricia, Calder, Maxine, and Little Debby. Moved away and left me here.”

  “When was this, Mrs. Saugerties?”

  “Hard for me to keep track of time.”

  “I see.”

  “He moved out, see, and—”

  “That would be your son, Calder?”

  “My husband. It got so he couldn’t take it, you know, so he moved out.”

  “Does he live nearby?”

  “Don’t know where he took himself off to. But he left, and then the children.”

  “They just left?”

  “Here one day and gone the next.”

  “But how could—”

  “Rita, if I may? Mrs. Saugerties, let me make sure I have the names right. Patricia, Calder, Maxine, and Deborah, is that right?”

  “Tricia.”

  “That’s her actual name? Good, Tricia.”

  “And not Deborah. Little Debby.”

  “Debby.”

  “Little Debby. Like the cakes.”

  “Like—?”

  “The cakes.”

  “It’s a brand of cupcake, Baird. You can find them next to the Twinkies.”

  “My life is ever the richer for knowing that, Rita. They just left, Mrs. Saugerties?”

  “Might be they went with their father.”

  “I was wondering if that might be a possibility.”

  “Because, see, they just hated it here, same as he did. On account of there’s no room in the house anymore. On account of my stuff.”

  “Your stuff. I can’t help noticing there’s a pile of trash on either side of the porch glider. Is that the sort of stuff you mean?”

  “Ain’t trash. ‘Smy stuff.”

  “I see.”

  “I like to have things, and then I like to keep ‘em. Other people, they don’t care for it.”

  “Like your husband.”

  “And the children. Their rooms filled up, along with everything else, and there was no place for them to play. But you know, there’s the whole yard. It’s our property clear back to the creek.”

  “Yes. Do you suppose I could use your bathroom, Mrs. Saugerties?”

  “Don’t work.”

  “I see. Well, let me just go in and get myself a glass of water.”

  “That don’t work either. Oh, I guess he didn’t hear me. He wasn’t really supposed to go into the house.”

  “I’m sure Baird won’t disturb anything, Mrs. Saugerties.”

  “It’s just such a mess, you know. No room for a body to get around. And the animals mess in the house. I don’t know why I can’t keep up with their messes.”

  “Animals?”

  “Well, dogs and cats.”

  “How many do you have?”

  “I don’t know. There’s different ones, and they come and they go.”

  “Like the children.”

  “Except all they did was go. I wish they’d come back, but I don’t think they will.”

  “Well—”

  “And there was a raccoon. Besides the dogs and cats, I mean. But I ain’t seen him in I don’t know how long. They don’t belong in a house anyhow, you know. Raccoons, I mean. They’ll make a godawful mess.”

  “I’m sure that’s true. Baird, are you all right?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “You look like you saw a raccoon.”

  “I look like what?”

  “I just said—”

  “Never mind. I have never seen the like.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “No, Rita, I don’t think you can. How anyone can live like this is quite beyond me. No children, so we can wash our hands of it, and I’ll tell you, right now mine could use washing. We’ll refer it, of course. And I don’t envy the poor bastards at APS who draw this one. Mrs. Saugerties? I think we’ll be going now. Uh, some other people may be in touch. They’ll be able to give you a good deal of assistance.”

  Help? Don’t want help.

  Got all I need, right here where I am. Got my stuff right where I can put my hands on it. A whole house full of my things, and the cellar and attic, too.

  Oh, I know this is no way to live. I’m not crazy. I’m not stupid, either. I don’t talk much. Better if you don’t. What’s it they say? A fish’d never get hisself caught if he just kept his mouth shut.

  That’s unless they come with a net.

  “Mrs. Saugerties? How do you do, ma’am? My name is Thelma Weider and this is my associate, John Ruddy. And may I call you Dorothy?”

  “I guess.”

  “Dorothy, John and I are with Adult Protective Services of Lantenango County, and we’re here to provide you with some assistance, and—”

  “Don’t need it.”

  “Well, I believe you’ll find—”

  “Who’re them two?”

  “The tall gentleman is Mark, and his partner is Clayton. They’re with the Sheriff’s Office, and they’ve come along on the chance that they might be needed, but I’m sure we’ll be able to work this out without bringing them into it. Now before we go inside—”

  “Not going inside.”

  “Ah. Dorothy, I believe I see bedding and a pillow on the porch glider. Is that where you’ve been sleeping?”

  “Nice sleeping in the fresh air.”

  “I’m sure it was comfortable this summer, but it’s autumn now, isn’t it? The trees are starting to drop their leaves. The nights are getting cold.”

  “Ain’t too bad.”

  “And winter’s coming, and then it will be really cold.”

  “Got lots of blankets.”

  “But you’ve got a big house. What do you have, four or five bedrooms?”

  “About.”

  “And you’re all by your
self here.”

  “With my stuff.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard about your stuff. Rooms filled almost to the ceiling, isn’t that what Baird and Rita told us?”

  “What Thelma’s getting at, Dorothy, is that we could help you be a lot more comfortable.”

  “Dolly.”

  “I’m sorry, do you want a doll? I don’t—”

  “What to call me. Dolly. Not Dorothy, nobody calls me Dorothy.”

  “Ah, I see. Dolly, why don’t we go inside and have a look around your house? Maybe you can point out some of your most treasured things for us.”

  “No.”

  “I’m afraid we have a warrant, Dolly, that empowers us to enter and search the premises, and Mark and Clayton are here to guarantee your compliance. So I’m going in. Would you like to come with me, or would you prefer to stay out here with Thelma?”

  It’s embarrassing, having people go through your house and look at your things. Knowing they’re judging you, feeling the thoughts they’re thinking as sure as if they were saying them out loud.

  What a pig, what a slob, how could a woman let herself go this way, how could she let her house get away from her like this? Blah blah blah. All this junk, all this rubbish, why would anyone want to live with these broken dolls and old newspapers? And look at the plates, the food still encrusted on them, rotting there. Blah blah blah. And the smell, who could stay in a house with such a smell in every room? Blah blah blah.

  Someday I might read the newspapers. There’s plenty of interesting articles in them, if I ever get around to it. No reason not to hang onto them for when the time comes. Same with the books and magazines. I don’t read much these days, but it’s something I might get back to, and when I do the books will be there for me, and the magazines, and the newspapers.

  And yes, a lot of the dolls are broken, but they could be fixed. Why, there’s doll hospitals that do nothing but repair broken dolls, because they recognize the importance of preserving treasured memories. Even as they are, the dolls and other toys bring back memories. I bought the Raggedy Ann for Tricia, the Storybook dolls for Maxine. And there were Barbies, so many of them, that I bought for all three of the girls. And Chatty Cathy, how Little Debby loved that doll! Of course the voice is gone, and there’s no string to pull, but Cathy’s still there, and if you pick her up and look at her you can almost hear her little voice again, almost hear Little Debby parroting the phrases right back at her.

  And some of my stuff is worth money. All those Jim Beam decanters, they’re scattered all over the house, but they’re here somewhere, and a few of them are genuinely rare, and worth good money to a collector. The Colorado Centennial one? You think that’s easy to find? Or cheap to buy when you do find it? Walter was a Scotch drinker, but he was a good enough sport to switch to bourbon when they came out with those decanters, and in a sense they never cost me a cent, because he had to drink something and he said it might as well be bourbon. And didn’t he say he’d got to prefer Jim Beam to the Cutty Sark he used to drink?

  What’s he drinking nowadays, wherever he is? Did he go back to Scotch? Or did he stay with Jim Beam?

  What’s it they say? One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Just ‘cause it’s trash to you don’t make it wrong for me to cherish it. But it’s all empty bottles as far as these two are concerned, John and Thelma, all empty Pepsi cans and beer bottles.

  Trash and treasures. If I ever opened a shop, that’s what I’d call it. Dolly’s Trash & Treasures. Which is which? Well, that’s up to you, isn’t it?

  And then there’s the bottle caps, and don’t ask me how many of those I’ve got. I decided I could make earrings for the girls, they’d be cute and cost next to nothing, so I started saving bottle caps, and I bought a box of the posts you mount the caps on, and got the right kind of quick-setting glue, and no, I haven’t actually made any earrings yet, but who’s to say I won’t one of these days? With the girls run off there’s not much point in making earrings now, but who’s to say they won’t come back?

  Nehi Orange, that was always Little Debby’s favorite. And somewhere I know I’ve got a pair of orange bottle caps set aside, and wouldn’t they make perfect earrings for Little Debby?

  “I’m just not getting through to her. What do we have to do, throw her in the back of the Sheriff’s car and haul her off to the nuthouse?”

  “John!”

  “I know, I didn’t mean to use the word. I find this stressful, I admit it. I’m sorry.”

  “John, let me try. Dolly, at this point you only have two choices, and—”

  “Dorothy.”

  “I thought you said people call you Dolly.”

  “My friends call me Dolly.”

  “Ouch. I gather you don’t think we’re your friends.”

  “If you were my friends you wouldn’t be trying to force me out of my own house and home.”

  “Oh, I love it. A home? It’s a home to vermin and unidentifiable rodents, not to a human being.”

  “John—”

  “And it won’t even be a house much longer either, with the structural damage you’ve got going on there.”

  “John, this isn’t helping.”

  “Sorry.”

  “If you could just allow me to—”

  “I know, I know. I won’t say anything more.”

  “Now Dolly, as I was saying, you’ve got two choices, and you’re the one who has to make the decision. The first possibility is that you allow us to relocate you to a really beautiful county facility for assisted living.”

  “A nuthouse.”

  “No, Dolly, and if John used that expression it was a mistake.”

  “A loony bin.”

  “Not at all. The people are perfectly nice and the staff is wonderful. My own mother is there, as it happens, and she’s truly happy. Would I let my mother go there if it wasn’t a good place?”

  “My children moved away and left me all alone, but at least they never put me in a loony bin.”

  “Oh, Christ.”

  “John! The other choice you have, Dolly, is to allow us to clean your house. We’ll get a crew in here to clean it top to bottom.”

  “And throw out all my things.”

  “A lot of what you’ve got here is trash, Dolly. We know that and you know that. Old newspapers, empty pizza boxes, paper plates with food on them—”

  “I guess some of it’s trash.”

  “See? If it wasn’t such an overwhelming chore, you’d throw out a lot of it yourself.”

  “There’s times I’ve wanted to. But I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  “Well, that’s where we’ll be able to help you. We’ll bring in a full crew of trained professionals who’ve been through all this more times than you could imagine. They’ll know where to start and they’ll be able to see it through to the finish.”

  “It sort of got away from me, you know. It wasn’t like this when I moved in.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t.”

  “And I didn’t set out to make it like this. But, you know, I like things, and I don’t want to part with my memories. And throwing out useful things is wasteful.”

  “Well, that’s true, isn’t it?”

  “And if these men start throwing away all of my good things—”

  “Dolly, you’ll be here the whole time. The things you want to keep, you just say so, and they’ll be put in boxes to be saved. Or if it’s too tiring, we can make some of the decisions for you. And before you know it you’ll have a clean house, a home you can take pride in.”

  “It’s not so bad the way it is. And I have some wonderful things here.”

  “Oh, Christ.”

  “John—”

  “I mean, it’s my house. I’m the only one here. Why can’t you all just leave me be?”

  “Dolly, let me explain it one more time...”

  All these people. There must be twenty men, all dressed alike with royal blue shirts and navy blue slacks. Their first names
are embroidered in gold braid on their shirt pockets. The only names I’ve managed to read are Harry and Ben. I keep reading those two names over and over, Harry and Ben, Harry and Ben. Maybe there are ten Harrys and ten Bens, or maybe I just keep seeing the same two young men over and over. They all look the same anyway, with those white masks covering their noses and mouths. Like the air in here would kill them.

  Going through my things. Picking up a Little Debby cake box or a book with the cover missing, holding it out, rolling their eyes. They don’t think I notice what they’re doing.

  They’ll throw out some things I’d like to keep. I know that. I do what I can, I tell them no, I want to save this, put it in a box to be saved. And sometimes the woman talks me out of saving it, or else she agrees and they put it in a box, but how do I know what will happen to all those boxes? If I let them, they’d take everything I own and cart it to the landfill.

  When your house is clean again, the woman tells me, you’ll have a much richer life. Richer without things than with them? You’ll have space, she says. And who knows? Maybe your children will come back, when they have a decent clean place to live, when they can have their own rooms again.

  It would be so nice to believe that. And maybe it’s true. Maybe Calder will come back, and Tricia, and Maxine. And Little Debby. Oh what I’d give to see my Little Debby again!

  “I don’t believe this.”

  “You’ve never had a case like this before?”

  “Never anything like this. I mean, I read about the Collyer brothers, but I thought they were the only people in the world who ever lived like this.”

  “It’s more common than anyone realizes, John. I’ve heard estimates that one percent of the population has a problem with compulsive hoarding.”

  “That sounds crazy. That’d be what, three million people?”

  “I know. The thing is, most of the time it’s invisible. The people seem completely normal until you get inside their homes.”

  “Not our Dolly. Spend thirty seconds with her and you know you’re dealing with a fruitcake.”

  “John!”

  “She can’t hear me, she’s in the kitchen explaining why an empty Peter Pan peanut butter jar is a priceless treasure. See, it’s glass, and nowadays they make them out of plastic, so who’d be crazy enough to throw it out?”