Eddie Calls Home
The Puente Waste Management plant was a oval-shaped pod that could be seen high from the sky. It was a silver rosary in the sand, a glittering icon among the shifting dust.
As the ship descended, Eddie spotted rows upon rows of squares lined up outside the plant.
Cardboard.
Plastic.
Bales of them.
The rows were longer than when he left.
He smiled. Alma and the girls must have been hard at work. Alma could drive a front-end loader with a speed and accuracy that rivaled any man, and his cousin Josefina could fly in a forklift.
He counted the rows and did quick mental math.
Macalestern would buy the cardboard—they always needed recycled supplies for things like office projects and cubicles.
Recycled glass was precious and sold for good money. They had a separate plant that processed the glass. Off in the distance, he spotted mountains of glittering glass.
Paper wasn’t the family’s favorite—no one read books anymore—but they developed a steady stream of income selling to schools and manufacturers.
There was probably several million in gross sales down there right about now. After profits…maybe another fifth of a percentage point toward the mortgage after everyone was paid and Macalestern took its cut.
The family had several satellite recycling plants—six on Refugio and three more strategically placed around the galaxy. Along with garbage runs, which planetary governments paid annually for, recycling classes and education, eco-tourism to the planet, and waste management consulting, the Puente family took a loan that many claimed to be predatory, and they turned it into one of the most entrepreneurial success stories in the history of humankind.
“It’s the only way to pay,” his grandfather once joked, “One dime at a time.”
No one expected Benito Puente to get into the garbage business. But he filled a desperate need, and, well, someone had to do it.
But the family was not rich by any means. All their money went toward the mortgage. A single shared purpose. Financial freedom.
Eddie remembered the days on Traverse II, under the Zachary Empire, when having money was just a dream, and they worked you until your body was raw.
He liked Refugio much better even though he still worked until he was raw. At least he had his humanity.
As he neared the plant, he opened up the radio and called home.
His abuela, Antonia, answered in her usual decrepit but fiery voice.
“Bueno.”
“Mama Tonia, it’s me,” Eddie said. “Que pasó?”
“Oh, it’s you, mijo? Thank the Lord. I saw the news about the Argus invasion. Los cerdos are going to kill us all.”
Eddie chuckled.
“Nah, they’re just a bunch of pigs,” he said.
“They have guns, mijo,” Mama Tonia said. Eddie could tell that she was frowning. “Just yesterday, Angel was flying near Provenance and he saw one.”
“Angel?” Eddie asked. “Who’s that?”
“You remember Angel,” Mama Tonia said, annoyed. “Your cousin. On your grandfather’s side. He was at your sixth grade birthday party that one time, remember? His mother used to come see us on Traverse II.”
“Oh. I don’t remember.”
“Yes, you do. Anyway, he was on his way home from work and an Argus ship shot at him. His mother called me crying. Can you believe that? What a way to go—turned into bacon by bacon itself. It’s not right. It’s not right, and I’ve told your father he needs to man up and march into GALPOL and tell them to get their act together. It’s just not right.”
“No,” Eddie said, sighing. “It’s not right, Mama Tonia.”
He wasn’t going to shut his grandmother down. She was just concerned for his well-being. Fiesty as it was, it was coming from a good place.
“Are you hungry, mijo?” Mama Tonia asked after a moment of silence.
“Very hungry. Alma there?”
“She’s chasing your child around. I told her to discipline that boy more. The way he runs around this house, you’d think he had no parents.”
“Okay, okay. And Papá?”
“Reading the news,” Mama Tonia said.
“Mama Tonia, how are you feeling?” Eddie asked softly. “Good?”
“No one in this house pays attention to me. I’m going to fall down someday and they’re all going to miss me when I’m gone. Who else is going to cook them tortillas and carnitas, eh? And your abuelo, he…oh, never mind. ”
Her voice brightened.
“Now that you’re home…”
“What’s wrong with abuelo?” Eddie asked.
“Está bien,” Mama Tonia said.
Eddie sighed. His abuelo must not have been doing well. Each day was a struggle or a success.
“Come home and eat,” Mama Tonia said. “And did you bring home the fifteen quadrillion dollars like I asked you to?”
Eddie laughed. If he did that, the mortgage would be paid in full.
“Not yet,” Eddie said. “But I’m working on it.”
***
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