Love, Longing, and Dumspters

Jude likes dumpsters. He has them memorized, which ones are where, what color they are, what numbers are on the side.  A trip to the park begins with a run to the alley side, through the fence, and a dumpster announcement. "It's a BLUE one! And it's FRIENDLY!" We have never encountered an unfriendly dumpster, and hopefully never will.

Dumpster spotting is easy from the el, Jude announces them all along the Red Line. Sheridan, Addison, Belmont, we know where they are, they can't hide from us. We shout them out so everyone can hear.

Yesterday we went on a dumpster tour of Uptown. Down Wilson, over to Hazel, Eastwood. We approach the Habitat for Humanity townhouses next to the free clinic. The kids playing out front stop and stare. "Can we look at your dumpsters?" I ask, trying not to look creepy. The kids look at Jude, who is flapping and giggling with excitement, and back to me. They nod slowly, and then book it into the house.

As we  stand in the parking lot, Jude patting the dumpster like a beloved pet, I see the curtains flutter in the upstairs window and realize mom has been informed of Weird People on the Premises. I give a little wave, and the curtains close. Time to go.

There is one last dumpster we must see, but we cannot touch it, it lies behind a gate that only opens when the nice cars of the condominium owners, the brave but fearful pioneers that come with gentrification arrive home from work. This is the unattainable, the Holy Grail, and Jude presses his face against the bars with unrequited love and longing. I press my face against the bars. too, trying to see what he sees, with longing not for the dumpster but for my son, this mystery that unfolds far too slowly for my taste, a little piece at a time.

"Why do you like it so much?" I ask, not expecting an answer. "It's beautiful," says Jude.

An SUV honks and we step aside. The gate closes and we turn and head towards home, willing to let some things remain a mystery for now, but someday we will get to touch that dumpster. Until then, we will be patient, and admire the beauty from afar.