flew straight up in the air among the towering skyscrapers. Pete stood next to Garbage in the flying bin, which now seemed to be empty. Squeak was in the top pocket of his jacket. Soon they were higher than the highest tower block in the city, and then even the biggest buildings seemed like little anthills, barely visible through a blanket of smog.
“Wow … The sky’s so blue!” exclaimed Pete. “And the sun!” He felt as if his problems had suddenly become as small as the buildings far below them.
Squeak stared in disbelief. “The world’s so big!”
“Being up here does tend to change the way you look at things a bit,” said Garbage. “So, who’s hungry?”
He ducked down into the bin and produced a rounded tray, which he clipped to the bin’s edge. Like a stage magician pulling rabbits from his hat, he started to produce all kinds of nice things from down below: peppered ham, salami, sliced roast beef, pork pies and fruit salad with pineapple, passion fruit and litchis. And, for the grand finale, there was a big bottle of sparkling orange juice to wash everything down.
Never before had Pete eaten such a meal. Garbage wolfed down most of the food. Squeak nibbled a bit at the salad, and when Garbage asked him if there was anything else he would like, he whispered in his ear. Garbage then produced a big jar of crunchy peanut butter. Squeak was on cloud nine.
When everyone had had enough, Garbage put the leftovers somewhere in the emptiness of the dustbin.
“Hold on, we’re going for a ride. YEE-HA!” he shouted.
Pete grabbed the edge of the bin, and the next moment they were in free fall. The city and its skyscrapers rushed up at them; in no time they were back in the concrete jungle. Garbage steered his bin at the speed of white light among the buildings, first dodging a satellite dish and then the façade of a bank. He dropped to just above street level.
“Hey, you just went through a red light!” shouted Squeak, clinging for dear life to the hem of Pete’s pocket. Garbage didn’t seem to hear him.
Within a few minutes, they landed with a thump in an alley among a lot of other dustbins. Pete recognised the building as the station. He climbed out of the bin.
“Where’s your friend?” Squeak wanted to know.
“He usually hangs around somewhere here,” Garbage answered. “We may have to search a bit. Let’s go to the main hall and start there. We’re looking for a short, fat dwarf.”
Since it was late on a Sunday afternoon there were very few commuters about in the station’s main hall. Pete pulled the dustbin, which was placed on his skateboard, by its handle. Garbage peeked from under the bin’s lid and whispered instructions to Pete: “Left!” or, “Go to the pizza place!” or, “Let’s try the bookshop!”
They couldn’t find the dwarf. When they reached the coffee shop, Vusi spotted Pete.
“Hey, Pete! New job clearing the garbage, hey?” he shouted.
“Hi! The bin belongs to a friend. How’re you?”
It was a mistake to ask Vusi how he was. He had an extended family, and started talking about his Aunt Jemima’s bunions, his cousin’s brush with the long arm of the law, his brother’s forthcoming wedding and the problems his brother-in-law was having with his taxi’s gearbox. And of course somebody had died and had to be buried, and his shop’s rent had gone up again and he had to pay tax. When he got to the appendix operation that he had had three years before, the dustbin jumped and hit the floor with a bang. A small wisp of smoke came from under the lid. Pete got the message, and he interrupted Vusi’s monologue.
“Have you seen a dwarf around here?” he asked.
“You mean Percy the Midget? Everyone knows him. He does that three-card con. I skinned him for a stack of dough about a week ago.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Haven’t seen him for a week. He’s probably moved to greener pastures.”
Before Vusi could start speaking again, Pete thanked him and disappeared around the corner with the dustbin in tow.
“What now?” Squeak asked Garbage. “We can’t search for your friend for ever.”
“I’ll call him,” Garbage answered. He produced a cellphone, and punched in a number.
“Hey, Percy! You were supposed to meet me on your turf, man!” The conversation was short. Garbage looked a bit embarrassed when he returned the phone to his bin. “He’s moved to the bus terminal. Hop in, guys!”
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