Numbskull

A garbage man finds a shrunken head that does more than meets the eye.

         3rd to 8th. 8th to Shirley. Shirley to Maddison. Maddison to 19th. 19th to Krogen. Krogen to yatty yatty yada so on and so forth down the stupid trash route. I'd seen the map every day of my working life and by now it's been burned into my memory banks. Working in garbage disposal wasn't my first choice of career. But hey, take what you're dealt and mosey on forward.
         "Alright, we'll just hit a few more and we'll be done with this crap shoot," Daryl said. Daryl was my right hand man on the truck. We'd both fallen into a rhythm over the years when garbage collecting. I couldn't even describe it anymore. It was just routine for us, like breathing at that point. Imagine working in trash so long that it just seemed to appear in the back of that truck, that's how mindless we both were. You'd come back from a daze from a whiff of something nasty and you'd be stopped, ready to load the next dumpster. The worrying thing was that you were the one driving the whole time.
         And that's just what happened that day. I woke up behind the wheel, stopped and ready to load the next dumpster. I soon then found myself staring down into this dumpster and noticing something amiss about it. On the top of all the trash bags sat a mason jar, filled to the brim with some yellowish brown liquid. But what really caught my attention was what floated within the liquid. It was like it came from out of those books you sometimes come across in the library. At least, that's the only way I knew what it was. It was a severed head, eyes and mouth sewn shut, hair tied into a knot, the whole works. I was now holding the jar and examining the head inside. It wobbled with my twists of the jar, lagging slowly behind each twist until it faced me again.
         "Hey, we gotta go," Daryl said.
         "Looky here! It's one o' them heads inna jar!"
         Daryl stared at me blankly. "Well, are you done? We gotta load this and bounce."
         "Alright, suit yourself, sourpuss..." I muttered under my breath. I felt compelled to take the head in a jar with me. It wasn't dirty or anything because it was just sitting there, and... I mean, c'mon, it was a fricken head in a jar, for Christ's sake! And I was a sucker for gross out stuff like that. You have to be one of those guys to really not go crazy working trash, obviously. We loaded the dumpster contents into the truck and I hopped into the passenger seat to put the head in a jar on the dash. Daryl didn't comment on it the whole ride back to the dump, which meant to me that he was just trying to flat out ignore it.
         We eventually clocked out for the day and went our separate ways, as we did. I still had the head in a jar with me as I drove back to my place in the city. After getting back home and unwinding, I was finally able to place the head in a jar on my shelf of goodies. It had all kinds of stuff: neat shirt pins, baseballs, cool rocks, really anything I found interesting. It was a hobby of mine to snag neat stuff when I found it. And I thought a head in a jar qualified. It looked at home on the shelf, really brought the whole thing together.
         I made my way to the kitchen and fixed myself a sandwich for dinner. I also decided to tune into the news tonight and see what was new in the world. Bank robbery on 7th and Midilen, lettuce on ham, baseball scores, spreading the mayonnaise, money jargon, side of chips. I ate and watched, enjoying my night.
         "Psst, hey."
         I chewed slower and turned down the TV. Nothing. Weird.
         "Hey, numbskull."
         I turned the TV off and set down my sandwich. I turned towards the shelf, the head in the jar turned in my direction.
         "Yes, you, the only person in this place."
         "Are... are you..."
         "What do you think, numbskull? Of course I'm talking to you!"
         The head's lips were sewn shut and unmoving. It floated motionlessly in the jar, but it was unmistakably talking to me.
         "...What?"
         "Look, are you going to blabber like an idiot or are you going to get a grip? I'm trying to have a conversation here."
         "You're a head in a jar."
         "Yeah, and you're a numbskull eating sandwich. Now, are you gonna listen to me or not?"
         The voice was a bit higher pitched, not like a child, but more like one of those 80's villains. It had a sarcastic tone with each word, and wasn't pulling punches.
         "Uhh... sure? I'm just-"
         "Having a hard time believing this. Yeah, I get it. What else is new? Just listen to me alright? I need you to go downstairs to the lobby of this apartment, wait for the guy in white to pass you, pick up the twenty dollar bill, then come back here. Got it?"
         I was speechless. Who did this head in a jar think he was?
         "What? No, what does that even mean?"
         "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you understood English, numbskull. Were you paying attention or do we have to waste more time babbling like idiots? Just do exactly what I said, you don't have much time."
         I pondered this for a moment. This was clearly a dream, I'd probably passed out on the couch or something and it was just a seamless transition to here. So, really, what was the harm?
         "Alright, I guess I'll be back then..." I eyed the head in a jar as I got up and walked downstairs and into the lobby. I stood and waited, and sure enough a man walked in wearing an all white suit. I couldn't believe my eyes. He walked right past me, and as he did, he fumbled for his wallet in his pocket. Sure enough, as he pulled out the wallet, a loose twenty dollar bill fell right at my feet. I said nothing as I bent over to retrieve the bill, watching as the man in white bought a newspaper from a nearby rack. I hurriedly made my way back up to my apartment and greeted the head in a jar again.
         "Okay, what the hell."
         "Eh? Eh?! Cool party trick, ain't it?! Now you're twenty dollars richer, how 'bout that!"
         "Right, but how did you know that was going to happen?"
         "Oh, let's not get into the details, numbskull. Let's just focus on the future, here! Think of all the possibilities! With my intellect and your... well, your humanness, we can make more money than we can even fathom."
         "Well, I mean, yeah, but-"
         "Ah ah ah! No 'buts'. Are you in or are you out? No takebacksies."
         I thought. Then I thought some more. "Fine sure yeah I'm in."
         "Excellent choice! Now, this arrangement does include you listening to what I have to say and doing as I say to do, yah? I'm the head in the jar here, I can't do much except tell you what to do. So you gotta work with me here."
         "That's... yeah, fine that's good and all. Where... where do we even start?"
         "Well, for starters, I'd suggest throwing a plate out of your window."
         I turned and saw my window open, but when he said throw it, I pondered why that would ever help me. There was another building right across from mine, and if I threw the plate out of the window, it would just shatter into pieces on the brick wall it'd hit.
         "I don't see how that helps at all."
         "Well I do. So grab a plate and give it a chuck!"
         I mean, it worked the first time, so let's see what happens this time then. I grabbed a porcelain plate from a cupboard and gave it a hefty throw out of my open window. Sure enough, it shattered from impact against the neighboring wall. The shards fell away from view and probably landed in the alleyway beneath.
         "Okay so that happened, how does that make money?"
         "Well, on its own it doesn't, but you'll also have to throw that plant out of the window too."
         "My potted plant?"
         "That's what I said, numbskull."
         I sighed and grabbed my small potted plant I bought at a flea market a few weeks ago. In accordance with the head's instructions, I threw it out of the window. I saw it shatter as shards of the pot and dirt fell to the floor of the alleyway.
         "Alright, that's two of my possessions gone."
         "Oh, cheer up, you'll be able to buy new ones soon enough. Now, from this point forth, you have no idea where those plate shards or smashed potted plant came from, got it? That's a very important part to all of this. So, 'excuse me sir, where did those shards of plate come from?'."
         "Uhh... nowhere? I don't know," I said with my best acting chops.
         "Ehhhh... it'll do. The important part is that you deny it from here on out. Now go wrangle that priest on the street and call him over to the alleyway."
         "The priest?"
         "Go see for yourself, numbskull!"
         I made my way back downstairs and out onto the sidewalk, and there he was: the priest. He was fully clothed in his priest clothes and probably making his way home. I got his attention.
         "Um... excuse me, Father?"
         "Yes, sir?"
         "I think you should come to the alleyway."
         The priest looked confused. "Why, my son?"
         "Uhh... it's... better if I show you?"
         The priest seemed convinced enough to follow me to the alleyway, which was shocking to me, but whatever. We both made our way into the darkness of the alleyway before we both saw the shattered plate and potted plant.
         The priest appeared dumbfounded as we both could clearly see a portrait of Jesus H Christ constructed out of the shards and dirt.
         "Oh my Heavenly Father above... did you make this sir?"
         "Me? No no I-I found it here and I thought you should see it." I did my best to play along.
         "My holy Lord, this is a miracle, my son! The Lord has revealed himself to you! I need to call the ministry about this... Here, how much for it?"
         "How much?"
         "Yes, well I'd like to buy the rights to this gift from the good Lord above! The people of the Church would be ever grateful to see such a miracle on their own city streets. How much for it?"
         "Um... two thousand dollars," I uttered, not sure how much a miracle of God should cost.
         "Two thousand... two thousand... Here, take a check." The priest took out a check book and began to scribble on it. Sure enough, he handed me a blank check for two thousand dollars and zero cents. "Just write your name on it, my son. God bless this man!" he said to no one in particular.
         "Right, well I'm going to go now..."
         "Yes yes, and thank you, my son, for this glorious gift from above."
         "Yeah, no problem."
         I returned yet again to my apartment as I heard the distant hoots and hollers of an excited priest on the phone with as many people as he could call. I held the blank check for two thousand dollars close to me as I made my way back into my apartment.
         "So, how'd it go?"
         "He gave me a check for two thousand dollars!" I said, holding it up excitedly.
         "Woohoo! Super score!" I did the happy dance as the head in a jar exclaimed his approval of my work. "Alright, another win under the belt. Are you ready to take it to the next level?"
         "Yeah, sure, let's go! We're gonna be rich!"
         "That we will be, my friend! That we will be..."