Friday, March 12, 2021

Chapter 25. read my fridge - Sick Sacraments

 25. read my fridge


Relishing the moment, lying in her bedroom alone, sunlight beaming  

in, the cream white lace curtains occasionally moving on a wisp of a  

breeze, she remembered. Her senses being heightened by passion. The  

way his generic menthol cigarette protruded from his pursed lips when  

they watched reruns of cartoons on television. The mysterious hair  

growth he had found on her body. The warmth of a man sleeping next to  

her. The sticky fingers, the bald head. The occasional sexual faux  

pas. The smell of petunia oil on her sheets. The small change that  

had fallen out of his pants pockets as he undressed.

Usually she was drawn to guys like Bill from the pool cleaning  

service, always in swim gear and ready to ’take a dip,’ or men, like  

her first husband Kurt, in uniform and ’ready to shoot.’ This one was  

different. For one thing, he was a living artist, good storyteller  

and funny. He was also somehow good-looking in a sickly sort of way.  

He was more desert rat than artist rogue in her opinion, but she did  

not mind. Most importantly, he was thoughtful and he took his time  

when giving her pleasure.

She had warned him about her Spotting, a Jack Russell bred to hyper- 

sensitivity, who attacked anyone who got close to her. After the  

initial spasm of yelping and sneak attacks, nipping at shins, the  

artist type did manage to calm down the household beast. He put the  

dog in a trance by sticking his fingers in his ears, and then letting  

Spotting lick up his own earwax. This act won her heart as well as  

Spotting’s and the dog allowed himself to be coerced into solitary  

laundry room confinement.

Spotting had, however, managed more than once to free himself and  

arrive unexpectedly during their romps of foreplay. What at first was  

annoying later became hilarious, especially for her. Finally,  

Spotting got his way and forced the two to barricade themselves in  

the privacy of her love chamber.

She chuckled when she remembered his reaction to the destruction of  

his clothing this morning. During the night, Spotting had ripped them  

to pieces and hidden them around the condo. Not only were the clothes  

gone but only a few bits and shreds could testify to their previous  

existence. She was lucky to have had enough remnants of male clothing  

to replace the loss. Unfortunately, even his shoes had not been  

spared. Luckily, the desert rat made light of his lack of footwear,  

shrugging it off and stating that it was not the first time he had  

been shoeless.

She slowly elevated herself to a sitting position and fluffed up the  

pillows. She studied the space around her, noting its composition.  

The bedroom had been torn apart in the heat of passion. Clothes,  

sheets and blankets lay strewn about. Her refrigerator had been read,  

and empty food containers dotted the floor around her bed. Beer cans  

and a half-full green bottle of Gallon Blush Chablis were to the  

right. A carton of Ben and Skippy’s gourmet vanilla ice cream with  

spoon attached lay to the left. There were cellophane bags from  

natural and hot ’n spicy potato chips and little brown plastic puffs  

from the wrappings of bite-size Honey Nut bars randomly scattered  

throughout the room. There was a box of Sarah Bee cheesecake with  

crumbs trailing onto the red oriental throw rug, and on the  

nightstand to her left a jar of peanut butter with a banana peel  

carefully folded and placed on the top. Across the room, a pair of  

altar candles continued to glimmer on the High Boy Commode, trying to  

go out, almost consumed by their own wax. A modern still life, she  

thought, cherishing the moment. Indeed, for a brief moment she was in  

paradise.

This was her private life, a side of her life that few knew. A side  

so long, she craved for it to be surveyed more than once every other  

eclipse. She felt tinges of envy at the freedom he portrayed, and was  

comforted by the thought that at least someone had guts enough to  

preserve a lifestyle that had definition and purpose. She longed to  

express herself creatively, as he did seemingly instinctively.

At the beginning of her life she had not been blessed. Born to  

diametrically opposed human beings with whom she never shared a  

communal existence. Her early life consisted of being shuttled  

between hippie mother and christian right father. She married a man  

of the military at a tender age and successfully spited both her  

parental units with one blow. She left her man at the air force base  

where he had taken her and moved back to sacramento. Her alimony  

entitled her to a higher education but she was forced to work on the  

side as a topless go-go dancer at Club 40 while getting her degree in  

the humanities at a local city college.

As luck would have it, she later landed a job with the The Chosen  

Ones when her cousin Sally, one of the singers in The Chosen Ones,  

had suddenly changed her ways and publicly embraced the positive and  

fun-loving california lifestyle. A replacement was needed quickly.  

The Chosen Ones had been scheduled to appear at the Church of  

Opportunity and were going to be broadcast statewide, an opportunity  

not to be missed. Without much thought, she gave up her career  

gyrating and pulsated instead to the missionary beat.

Of course, those who knew her were amazed at the transformation and  

that she played the part so well. Having been dragged to religious  

inoculations when visiting her father, she knew what to say and when  

to say it, even occasionally quoting scriptures. She camouflaged her  

sunlines with dabs of flesh-colored body paint and taped her boobs to  

give them the illusion of first budding adolescence.

Subjectively, the life she entered was a mirror image of the one she  

had left. Yet aspects of this new world of simplified superficiality  

gave her the impression that somewhere a strain of deep-seated  

perversity lurked. It did not take long before she had sniffed out  

who stunk the most.

It seemed her boss had somehow gotten word of her former trade and  

understood what women in her position had to do in order to survive.  

Preacher Dan’s offers of guidance and salvation were of constant  

annoyance to her. She was forever searching for ways to avoid his  

direct intervention. Until now, she had been successful at keeping  

him and his circle of similarly perverted male disciples at bay, but  

she knew that, with or without her, sooner or later the truth would  

be made public.

The thrill of performing before throngs of enthusiastic christians  

had worn off. She was tired of the grueling schedule of appearances  

up and down the valley, and dreamed of a sunday free from work. She  

loathed playing the dumb tragic figure who had been around, and had  

grown weary of pubescent babble about menstrual cycles and virginity.  

She was sick of offering condolences to those who needed to know that  

someone was worse off than they themselves.

The whimpering of her dog outside the bedroom door interrupted her  

self-contented thoughts. Deciding to finally venture outside her  

temple of pleasure, she slowly extended her legs out from beneath the  

sheets. After pointing her toes, she touched the floor and got out of  

bed. She stretched, rubbed her head and yawned so deeply that her  

upper body slumped to the floor. She remained bent over for a few  

moments letting the blood rush to her head. She slowly inhaled, rose  

to her tip-toes and repeated the action two more times as the dog  

continued to launch himself against the door.

She wrapped herself in an over-sized baby blue chenille bathrobe and  

opened the door. Spotting jumped up onto her yapping with glee on  

being reunited with his mistress, but his love was short-lived. His  

attention turned immediately to the bedroom, and he ran in to search  

frantically for any enemy material that might have polluted his  

territory.

With Spotting occupied for a moment, she casually strolled through  

the condominium, kicking food wrappings and shreds of clothing to the  

side. In the making of The Chosen Ones, she had saved enough coins to  

buy whatever she wanted, even though a considerable amount of money  

was siphoned off by the reverend himself for devotional purposes.

She smiled at the accumulated success around her. A scattering of new  

toys, where before there had been none. Lava lamps, fluffy couch,  

oriental rugs, a home entertainment center in the living room, a  

Jacuzzi in the bath, electric salad spinner, solar-powered carving  

knife, and combination bread-maker and convection crockpot in the  

kitchen. She found it hard to want more.

Spotting came running behind her with a torn green T-shirt clutched  

in his mouth but, before she could retrieve it, had darted through  

the kitchen and was out the doggy latch built into the back door. She  

had momentarily hoped to save at least one article of clothing from  

her artist friend but, alas, her male dog did still maintain a degree  

of control over her life.

In previous apartments, Spotting had attacked neighbors, postal  

workers, gardeners and pedestrians, making her an undesirable renter.  

She loved her dog but living with Spotting had been a social  

deterrent. It had gotten so bad that she was unable to invite a  

single person to her home for fear that Spotting would maim.

Spotting was a victim of man’s neurotic world of fences and  

automobiles. His inbreeding made him incapable of adapting to the  

constant vibrations of modern life. Being over-trained as a puppy, as  

a pet psychic on television had said, did not help a dog’s psyche.  

Spotting, she had learned, probably suffered from what is called post- 

dramatic stress disorder, even though she had previously thought that  

this was exclusively a returning soldier’s condition. She allowed  

herself to be convinced that it also occurred among domestic animals  

and subscribed to monthly treatments. To her astonishment, the  

medication actually did control the dog’s dramatic mood swings and  

she was able to regain a tiny bit of life beyond Spotting’s vibrant  

personality.

She opened the screen door and stepped out onto her patio. She made 

a brief survey of the potted plants there, noting which needed watering  

by sticking her finger into the soil. She carefully avoided eye  

contact with her neighbors, most of whom had been victims of Spotting  

before his affliction was diagnosed and medicated. She had even, on  

more than one occasion, had to beg angry neighbors not to call the  

pound to take her dog away. Those were the days before Doggy Downers.

She circled the condominium unit, walking barefoot across the lawn,  

carefully avoiding the patches of crabgrass. At the mailbox, she  

peered out through the mirage of heat waves emanating from the black- 

tarred street running in front of the property. The daylight was  

intense and she wished she had worn her sunglasses. She pulled out  

the deposited junk and lowered the red metal flag of the american- 

style mailbox. “Spotting!” she yelled in a faked english accent,  

hence the name.

Her dog came racing around the unit at a torrential speed carrying a  

green plastic garden hose nozzle. He did not stand still but ran  

around in circles, until he finally dropped the object of his frenzy  

at her feet and ran off. She picked it up, wondered which neighbor he  

had nipped the nozzle from, and hoped that they would not  

come knocking at her door looking for the stolen garden utensil. She  

decided to leave it where it was and threw it onto the lawn.  

Suddenly, almost out of nowhere, Spotting reappeared, picked it up  

and ran quickly away in the opposite direction.

“Spotting!” she anglicized. “Spotting. You come right here, right  

away!” But the mad dog paid no attention.

She returned to her condo and its air-conditioned comfort through the  

front door, left unlocked after the desert rat had left. While  

sorting the junk from the mail, she pulled out a postcard from her  

mother. As usual, it contained little information other than the tree  

motif on the front and a sketch of a candle with strokes emanating  

from the flame representing heat on the back. She placed the mail art  

piece on the fireplace mantel along with the others she had received.

Spotting came back in through the pet outlet in the kitchen and ran  

through the house whimpering to be fed. Though frustrated by being  

manipulated by her dog’s such primitive survival instincts, she threw  

the pile of mail onto the fireplace mantle and went into the kitchen.

She opened the refrigerator and noticed that the can of Ruffina Dog  

Chow was missing. Closing the refrigerator, she looked about the  

kitchen and spotted a pink and green-labelled can near the microwave  

that she knew to be empty. Spotting started darting between her legs  

thus annoying her further. Lethargically, she went through the  

cupboards hoping to find something that would temporarily appease her  

penis substitute. In the hunt for dog food, she herself grew hungry  

and went off on a tangent searching for bagels and cream cheese.

Spotting, instinctively knowing that food was soon to be lowered to  

him, could not contain his excitement and started jumping from one  

side of the kitchen to the other, barking out his insistence that his  

meal be delivered immediately. She temporarily appeased herself and  

her pet with bits of a spicy italian pepper sausage that she found  

lying on the kitchen counter.

Finally, she remembered where she had put her recently purchased  

groceries, still unpacked in plastic bags in the laundry room. She  

retrieved the fresh supply of Ruffina and opened the meal with the  

combo-electric can opener, knife sharpener and four-band radio. She  

slopped the doggy chow into his bowl and inserted a Doggy Downer in  

the middle of the processed animal by-product as the final flourish.  

Her hungry pet had, in the meantime, become occupied with his burning  

mouth and ran about, lapping up water from his food tray, shaking his  

head and sneezing in order to rid himself of the pain.

She put the bowl on the floor while speaking to Spotting in no more  

than five syllable sentences. She petted her Jack Russell as he bit into  

the slimy luke-warm meat mass, almost searching for the one hard bit  

that would bring joy to his world. Soon, her Spotting would be fast  

asleep, his belly full, and with her help, leading an effective and  

happy little life.

Standing up too fast, she became dizzy and leaned on the kitchen wall  

for a moment to regain her equilibrium. When the spell had passed,  

she went over to the kitchen counter to prepare herself a decent  

breakfast. She nibbled on a dried bread stick while heating milk over  

the electric range and waiting for the espresso to perk. When all was  

done and whipped, she poured the brew into an oversized ceramic  

coffee cup and dusted the milk froth with cinnamon and powdered  

chocolate. Into a mixing bowl, she dumped a fourth of a box of  

Special K-Lite, topped it with banana slices, and soaked it all with  

a generous amount of fat free soya milk poured from a gallon-size  

plastic container.

She placed her breakfast on a small plastic tray and, just as she was  

about to re-enter her love chamber, she remembered the newspaper. 

She put the tray down on a vinyl footrest next to the fluffy living room  

sofa and darted outside once more. She found the morning edition of  

the Sacramento Bee lying underneath the Camellia bush with ants  

crawling over the newsprint. She brushed off the dirt and bugs from  

the Bee, gave it an extra whack on the railing to make sure it was  

insect free and went inside.

Breakfast in bed on a lazy weekday morning in summer. The sound of  

blue jays and leaf blowers, the smell of grizzling bacon from the  

neighbors’ kitchen and the scent of the blossoming orange trees  

outside her bedroom window wafted through the air. She fluffed up the  

pillows and repositioned herself in her throne.

As she spooned her breakfast into her mouth, she dreamed of the  

moment when she would accidentally meet up again with the creative  

artist type. He had not left a number where he could be reached,  

explaining his situation as being out of touch with the world and  

wanting to keep it that way. He mentioned that he lived in a Galaxy,  

parked in the Grid, and gave a vague address of a friend with whom he  

had occasional contact.

Perhaps soon, she would have a reason to go downtown and visit one of  

those seedy cafes where drug addicts sat, and wannabe criminal  

delinquents spoke coded english and exchanged hand signals. They  

would sit outside underneath a Zitlantro umbrella, zinc oxide on  

their noses, sipping freshly roasted Eritrean espresso in tiny  

ceramic cups, served with a lemon peel twist. He would tell one of  

his fabulous stories about nothing and everything, and they would  

occasionally throw their heads back in unguarded laughter.

Her thoughts continued to linger on the artist rogue, a mysterious  

type he was. He had given her meaningful looks as if he wanted to say  

more than he was able. Perhaps he was in love with her. Perhaps she  

was falling in love with him. She took a long pause in her thoughts  

to sense her inner vibrations, but an icy ball of reality suddenly  

knotted in her stomach.

I don’t know nothin’ about that love thang, she confessed to herself.  

It’s just so crazy: women chasing men, men chasing women. As soon as  

they catch up to what they want, they don’t want it anymore. I’m  

either one step behind or one step ahead. Life would be easier, she  

concluded, if I was born without hormones.

She distracted herself from her negative thoughts by humming the  

words of a tune she was currently rehearsing. Thoughts of fame and  

fortune started to percolate in her mind. She thought about her  

future, about singing its tribulations and joys in the hits that she  

would write.

Her time as a Chosen One was measured by the mediocre success she 

had attained among certain men littered throughout the valley. Her fan  

mail testified to the fact. She often received marriage proposals in  

exchange for singing the faith and, as tempting as some of these rich  

right wing christian male supremacists’ exhortations were, she knew  

that they were really the same ones for whom she had shaken her booty  

at Club 40.

Dubious thoughts often crossed her mind about how she could create a  

scandal by denouncing the Church of Opportunity, First Christian as a  

hoax, thought up long ago by some fast talker to capitalize on the  

lack of spirituality that permeated the valleys. She knew sex had to  

be involved somewhere, but with whom and to what degree she was still  

unsure, for the decisive moment had not yet presented itself. She was  

convinced that a scandal of a sexual nature would certainly be the  

manipulative spring that would bounce her to national stardom. She  

felt proud of herself for being so cunning.

While sipping her cappuccino, she mapped her career through its peaks  

and valleys. She fantasized about taking the road of fate with the  

artist type, who she would employ as her assistant and lover. This  

thought caused her libido to tingle. But her road trip came to an end  

when she realized again that he had departed practically without a  

trace, except for that one vague location somewhere in the Grid. In  

short, she had no way of getting in touch with him and it would be  

only through chance that they would ever meet again.

We must meet again, she thought, and heard the barks of Spotting  

approaching.

“Is anybody home?” It was her distant cousin, Sally, who was living  

with her while she was in sacramento, just returning from a few days  

in fresno.

“I’m in the bedroom.” Spotting appeared at her bed, scattering his  

energy throughout the room.

“Hey, Crystal.” She appeared at the bedroom door and gave a wave.  

“Well all right girl, you sure do look cozy. What happened here?” she  

examined the still life and asked.

“Yeah.” She smiled. “I had a run in with a desert rat.”

“Me, too. Except mine was an auto mechanic a couple of nights ago.”

“I’m kinda glad that you weren’t here. It would of been embarrassing.”

“Yeah. Well. What can I say?” She shrugged her shoulders and held her  

palms upward. “Your uncle says hello. I ran into him at a café in  

downtown Fresno. Ain’t that a coincidence. Hey. There’s money on the  

floor.” She bent over, picked up a penny and threw it onto Crystal’s  

bed. “Look, I didn’t catch much sleep last night and I’m beat from  

driving. I’m going to take a nap before I start writing the next  

column for the Weekly. You mind if I take a shower first?”

“No. It’s okay. I’ll catch you when you wake up.”

Her cousin limped off to the spare bedroom and Spotting disappeared  

along with her. Crystal sat for a good long moment feeling content,  

wishing it could stay this way. Once again, she was distracted by  

shouts of discouragement coming from a neighbor, who she suspected  

was about to be attacked by her Jack Russell.

“Spotting!” she yelled in her faked english accent, “You come here  

right away. Spotting. Spotting.”

“Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!” came the chants from the studio audience as  

the camera panned them standing and shaking their upraised fists,  

before swinging over to the talkshow host entering the studio.  

Crystal had programmed her entertainment center to turn on  

automatically when her favorite talk show was scheduled. She propped  

herself up in bed and took a sip of coffee.

“Good life. Good life. Good life,” she sang out loud and made herself  

comfortable to watch the televised verbal assault.





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