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    Garbage Day: A Novella
    Garbage Day: A Novella
    Garbage Day: A Novella
    Ebook85 pages1 hour

    Garbage Day: A Novella

    By Mark S. R. Peterson

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Life is a routine for Frank McDonald.
    But when he discovers his garbage wasn't taken and the school bus didn't come by to pick up his kids, he finds his daily routine has been thrown for a loop.
    And that is just the beginning . . .

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMark S. R. Peterson
    Release dateDec 19, 2018
    ISBN9780463663707
    Garbage Day: A Novella
    Author

    Mark S. R. Peterson

    Born in small-town northwestern Minnesota, Mark S. R. Peterson knew he had a love of writing as far back as 2nd grade.His genre interests are as expansive as his musical tastes–from classics like Mozart and Beethoven to heavy metal like Poison and Metallica. He writes thrillers, horror, science fiction, and fantasy, and even dabbles into nonfiction and inspirational.He is a graduate of Bemidji State University, majoring in criminal justice and psychology. He wrote his first book between homework and achieving his 2nd Dan black belt in Tae Kwon Do. He has over 15 years of law enforcement experience and currently lives, according to a Washington Post article, in the “ugliest county” in the United States.BEHOLDER’S EYE is his first published thriller novel, the first in his Central Division Series. KILLZONE is the first in his Shadowkill trilogy.

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      Book preview

      Garbage Day - Mark S. R. Peterson

      Garbage Day

      By

      Mark S. R. Peterson

      Copyright 2018 © Mark S. R. Peterson

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold

      or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,

      please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did

      not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to

      the vendor and purchase your own copy.

      Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      DEDICATION

      For my children,

      Whose imaginations are vast

      And encouragement always welcome.

      For the latest news on upcoming publications, consider joining my mailing list: Author Mark S. R. Peterson

      Want more to read? For a list of all my books by your favorite retailer, please click on this link for a complete listing.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

      I.

      It wasn’t until Frank McDonald spotted his neighbor’s garbage cans out by the road that he knew he was going to be in trouble.

      He had missed garbage day before. And his wife Debbie made sure he remembered that mistake ever since.

      You guys almost ready? he asked, cupping his hands toward the stairs. The school bus was due to arrive in less than five minutes.

      And that’s if it was right on schedule.

      Almost! both kids replied back.

      Courtney and Michael soon bounded down the stairs, dragging their bulging backpacks behind them, thumping solidly with each step.

      Ever since they moved in, Frank set out the garbage the night before garbage day. The garbage crew came by every Tuesday between seven thirty and seven forty. Like clockwork. Then, last October, he awoke in the middle of the night to a steady knocking on the front door. He lived in a small enough community that he trusted his neighbors, but that didn’t mean he kept his doors unlocked.

      With an aluminum baseball bat situated by the door, he grabbed it, held it behind him, and peeked out the window. He almost fell over when a round face, with a purple hoodie covering his head, stared back at him.

      Mr. McDonald, Eddie Coffman said, his voice muffled. He lived a block away. To say he was a bit on the slow side was an understatement.

      But he was as harmless as they came.

      Frank unlocked the door, and opened it a crack. Crisp air pooled around his feet.

      Your garbage, Mr. McDonald, Eddie said. His glasses were thick and the warmth from inside fogged them up. He didn’t seem to notice. A skunk got into your garbage.

      A what? Frank asked.

      A skunk, Eddie said. But it ran away when I was walking by. Into the culvert. I’m sure it’ll be back. Better pick up the garbage or else the garbage men won’t pick it up.

      It certainly couldn’t be that bad. It was the risk he ran having the garbage out by the road. He’s had dogs get into it from time to time, but nothing too major.

      Thanks, Eddie, I appreciate you telling me, Frank said.

      Should get one of those new plastic cans, Eddie said. They seal up nice and tight. Bought one at Hardware Hank. I think they’re on sale this week.

      That’s okay, I’ll take care of it.

      And with that, Eddie turned and walked away.

      The next morning, right when the kids were getting ready for school, he heard the rumble of the garbage truck coming down the road toward the house. That was when he spotted the mess. Eddie wasn’t joking. Garbage was everywhere!

      To make matters worse, there was a skunk still eating the garbage strewn about the lawn.

      There was a local ordinance against shooting firearms within the city limits, and that included air rifles. But that didn’t stop Frank from grabbing his lever-action Daisy BB gun. He racked the lever, and marched outside.

      All the BB was capable of was annoyance--he had it since he was eight or nine, so what did he expect? He had shot at mice before, with the tiny rodents a few inches from the barrel, and it still took him three to four shots to kill them. But he had no choice. If he ran out there, flailing his arms around, he’d run the risk of the skunk spraying him.

      That would be bad.

      Four shots sent the skunk trotting off into the culvert. Armed with a box of mothballs, he dumped what was left by the entrance. Then, as the garbage truck was only two blocks away, he quickly picked up what he could and stuffed it in the cans.

      Maybe Eddie was right. He should get a new plastic can. The one he used didn’t have a cover. It blew away in a storm a while back. He never bothered to replace it.

      But that was last October and he was still using the same can. Ever since that day, he waited until Tuesday morning to set out the garbage.

      What perturbed him the most was the fact that his neighbor across the

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