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Reggie.”
    “Well you know what they say…”
    “To each his own,” Lorene replied.  “To each his own.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 8
     
     
    Today was Saturday and that meant Trevor could spend the whole day in the Box.  He got a shower and then headed downstairs.  Uncle Gary was sitting at the kitchen table drinking his coffee, probably nursing another hangover.  “Hey, you pick up anything good lately?” he asked.
    Trevor took a can of pop out of the fridge.  “Uh, not really…but Frank told me about this house where this rich lady lived.  She had to move into a nursing home and I guess they’re cleaning out her house.  Getting rid of good stuff every week.  It’s in Lowell and I think trash day is Tuesday.”
    “Shit, Frank doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground.  You better get on it.  It’s been a while since you brought me anything worth a damn.”
    Uncle Gary didn’t like Frank, probably because Frank was a nice guy with a wife and a family.  Trevor met Frank two years ago when he was out scouting the streets.  He drove past a kid’s bike that looked salvageable, but by the time he turned around and parked the pickup, the garbage truck was there.  One of the garbage men was getting ready to throw it in the truck when Trevor yelled from across the street, “Hey!  Wait!”
    Holding the bike up in a mid-throw stance, the garbage man halted and waited for him to cross.  The man looked at him curiously, “Can I help you kid?”
    Trevor knew he sounded pathetic but he didn’t care.  He wanted that bike.  “Don’t throw it away.  Can I have it?”
    The man looked at the bike’s cracked frame, “You sure you want it?”
    “Yeah, I’m sure.”  The bike did look like a piece of crap, but Trevor was convinced he could fix it.
    The garbage man shrugged his shoulders and tossed the bike to him, “Suit yourself.”
    As Trevor turned to leave, a thought came to him.  “Hey!  Is this your route every Wednesday, at the same time?”
    “Yeah pretty much.  Why?”
    Feeling like he had to prove something, Trevor said loudly, “Okay.  I’ll be here next week with this bike, and it will look brand new!”
    “Yeah, whatever kid.”  The garbage man was shaking his head as he jumped on the back of the truck.  “Got to go!”
    Another idea immediately popped into Trevor’s head.  It might be beneficial to have a friend in the garbage business.  Maybe he could get an inside track to the good stuff.  Maybe, they could even make some kind of deal.  “Hey!  What’s your name?” he yelled after the man.
    “Frank!” the man yelled back as the truck drove away.
    Trevor waved, “See you next week Frank!”
    And it was right there, standing among a slew of empty garbage cans, where Trevor first had the idea about the Box.  He could turn that old garage into a workshop.  He could fix more than just appliances, and motors, and all the other junk Uncle Gary wanted.  He could fix things like toys and furniture.   He had a broken bike, a deadline, and most important, he had a purpose.
    “Piss-ant, did you hear me?”  Uncle Gary broke up his thoughts.  “I said you need to do some laundry today.   Don’t go hiding in that garage all day.”
    The only thing Trevor hated more than cleaning up after that pig—which was disgusting enough—was doing his laundry.  He would not wish that job on his worst enemy.  In order to survive it, he had learned the art of breathing through the mouth perfectly.
    “Yeah okay, I’ll get to it today,” and Trevor was out the back door.
    When he got in the Box he immediately felt better.  Home. He walked over to his work station and started setting up the table saw.  Before he knew it, his thoughts turned to Bea.  It had only been one day, but he really wanted to see her again.  He couldn’t decide if he should call her now or wait until tonight.  Would he seem too desperate?  He decided to text her instead; it