There is one person who visits The Sack on a weekly basis. He's either the last vestige of a bygone era or a new breed of street entrepreneur.
***
Eddie is a wisp of man who is somewhere in his mid-forties.
He's barely over five feet and has deeply tanned, weather-beaten skin. There is a faint hint of a moustache under his nose. Eddie also likes to wear an old Civil War hat. And he rolls his own cigarettes.
A strong wind would likely send Eddie airborne. He is that thin.
***
Garbage day in The Sack is on Friday. To Eddie, garbage is a very serious business indeed.
He roams his territory in the old town in search of recycleable bottles and cans. These items are redeemable for five cents each. On a good day, Eddie tells me he can make over a hundred dollars.
Twice a week, Eddie follows his route on foot. He says he walks over twenty kilometres each day. And he does this while pushing a grocery cart that's buried under large plastic bags, filled with cans and bottles. The bags are piled impossibly high. There are bags tied to the cart, as well.
If you've ever seen How the Grinch Stole Christmas, you'll know what I mean. (The old cartoon version, not the movie.)
***
Another interesting thing about Eddie: He wears a thick, leather tool-belt around his waist. It's laden with screwdrivers, pliers, wire cutters, and even a hammer.
There is no bag, box or bale that can keep Eddie out.
***
The first time I saw Eddie was on a very foggy day in The Sack. While putting my garbage at the curb, I suddenly noticed what appeared to be a man with a donkey cart emerging from the fog. As he got closer, he seemed more like a wild nomad from some futuristic, post-nuclear war society.
Either way, he was a bit startling to see for the first time.
***
I once asked Eddie if I could push his cart for a moment, just to gauge its weight. I'm not a very big man myself, but beside Eddie, I look like the governor of California. I could push the cart with effort, but couldn't imagine the stamina needed to cover the distance he does.
***
Oscar, of course, is very well-acquainted with Eddie. He and I have discussed old Eddie on a number of occasions.
We've agreed that Eddie should enjoy most favoured status among those who seek out recycleable goods in The Sack. This may sound condescending, but the collection of recycleable material is part of a ferocious underground economy in the old town.
This competitive hunt begins on Thursday evenings, when many Sack residents have put their garbage outside. Pick-up trucks, vans and even the dreaded SUV will drive slowly through the street. The backs of these vehicles are often stuffed with bags of bottles and cans.
Blue bags will be emptied of any redeemable can or bottle. Anything made of metal will be taken in mere seconds.
***
Oscar once put an old rusted barbeque at the curb for collection. He'd barely put it down before a pick-up truck carted it away. Oscar was fine with this.
He says that's exactly how he got the barbeque in the first place.
A few years ago, Mrs. Wonder's and I put an old couch out on the curb. I went back into the house to get the removeable legs. When I got back to the curb, I saw the couch disappearing down The Sack in the back of a truck.
I stood in the street, awkwardly waving the legs, but to no avail.
***
So here is Eddie's story: He's on social assistance. He hasn't worked in a regular job for over fifteen years. This is because of his bad back.
Watching him push his cart around, one might have doubts about this.
Watching him push his cart around, one might have doubts about this.
***
According to Oscar, Eddie admits that he's an alcoholic.
If this is true, he is certainly a very organized one. He says he uses his recycling income strictly for beer, tobacco and the occasional restaurant meal. Social assistance covers everything else. He claims that he has only missed one day of collecting (other than storm days) in the last seven years. That was after his brother died.
Eddie says he was very drunk that day.
***
Oscar says he's seen Eddie drink the remnants from discarded beer cans. I've never seen this myself, but I think it's true. Oscar will sometimes put a few full cans of beers in his blue bag for Eddie.
I'm uncertain about and touched by this action.
***
So Oscar, myself and several other Sack residents reserve our redeemable cans and bottles for Eddie. Curiously, we seem to be the ones most accustomed to drink. This is a definite advantage for Eddie.
It is common for Oscar to prolong an evening by invoking Eddie's name: "Let's have one more, so Eddie will have a good week."
It's a very successful ploy.
***
Reserving our cans and bottles for Eddie is not a simple matter. Most of us leave our blue bags on the porch for him. He knows that it's okay to pick them up there. This doesn't, of course, stop other collectors from taking the bags.
This has lead to several confrontations with collectors who arrive in vehicles. From our perspective, these folks have the money to drive, so they mustn't need the money as badly as Eddie.
Several collectors have had nasty run-ins with Elizabeth. Elizabeth is a staunch backer of Eddie. Interestly, she has never spoken to him. In fact, she seems almost frightened by him.
But she knows his story and this means something to her.
***
Oscar sees Eddie as some kind of street philosopher.
I'm not so sure about that. But Eddie does like nothing better than to stop, talk and smoke for awhile. There have been times where I've talked with Eddie for over half an hour, before he resumes his route.
When Eddie's in The Sack, Oscar makes a point of taking the blue bag right out to him. They'll talk for a bit and Oscar's laugh will echo through The Sack. It's like a regular part of the week for both of them.
Our streets probably need more of this kind of social contact. In fact, this is one thing I am pretty certain about.
***
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