37. set me on fire
Martin had decided to spend the day at home. He mentioned that he
wanted to take a look around the house and make an inventory of stuff
to be hauled to the dump. She could not figure out why Martin was
suddenly interested in the house and its contents. She felt invaded
by his rare presence and took a Valium to compensate for her anxiety.
While Martin puttered, she checked her emails and read the invitation
>from Cal-Tex. He had asked if she would accompany him to the closing
gala of the convention he was attending in Fresno. If she accepted it
would be her first public appearance with the man with whom she was
having an affair, and for whom she was seriously considering leaving
Martin. With a decision of this magnitude, she needed time to
calculate her next move.
She carried the aluminium ironing board into the living room and
snapped it open in front of the television. She went into the pantry
again and returned with a basket full of the christmas linens that
she was finally getting around to ironing. She plugged in the
Sunbeam, spun around, changed channels and turned up the volume of
the monitor. She recognized Preacher Dan’s voice before seeing
his face.
„… ever since that day, I have been preaching the Lord’s work. It has
been a battle all the way, Brothers and Sisters! It took thirty-three
years to get this far and I am prepared to go another 33, 66 or 99
years, however long the Lord keeps me on this planet. Because,
Brothers and Sisters, I don’t think it is gettin’ any better. I
constantly ask myself, what is this world coming to?”
“We, the people, have become a nation rebelling against the
Lord, shame-faced with sin, indifferent to him. These are evil times with evil
people. Rebels who call themselves Americans continue their evil
ways, stubbornly putting their fingers in their ears to keep them
from hearing God’s word. These people are bored and relentlessly
attack the religious morals that make up the framework of this once
blessed county.”
In tune with the times, Dee was keeping abreast. It was the Preacher
Dan Inspirational Hour, live on channel 58. There were times when Dee
could not get enough of Preacher Dan. He brought her the message and
gave her the answers she was lacking to the questions for which she
was still waiting.
“May the God above,” Dee said making the sign of the cross, “bless
this man’s soul!” and retrieved a napkin from the basket.
“In the years I have been preaching about offenses against God, what
has struck me the hardest was when this country, the greatest country
in the world, let one godless woman pull prayer out of the schools
allowing appalling atheists to make this once Godly nation into a
heathen nation hell bound.”
“There’s free sex, free drugs, and free Rock ’n Roll, now-a-days.
Can’t get away from it and can’t understand a word they’re saying.
They jump around like dancing apes, screaming at the top of their
lungs. The radio waves are crammed full of this sinister music.
„They are so bored and have nothing to do. Their brains and veins are
filled with drugs galore. The streets are filled with power-hungry
egomaniacs, who want it all and will stop at nothing to attain their
desire. They swear and lie and kill and steal. They are all striving
for their individuality, climbing up over the weak and injured to get
to the top.”
“Why, because of this filth, we can’t go into the streets or live
safely in our homes without fear and danger to our lives. They
stagger in drunkenness, partying their lives away. Standing numb,
naked in all their nudity and pornography, exploiting their bodies
and selling their souls to the Devil for a can of coke. It is no big
thing for them to jump in bed and fornicate with whomever they
please, married or single. Diseases and deadly consequences don’t
even stop their reckless desires. Homosexuals and lesbians burn with
uncontrollable passionate lust for each other, fearing diseases more
than fearing the God Almighty!”
Dee hooted her approval to the divine words of Preacher Dan. Even
though she herself could be included in the sins that Preacher Dan
had just listed. For she was committing adultery, still enjoyed
smoking cigarettes, and had given birth to a homosexual. She reasoned
herself excluded simply by being part of the middle class, the true
torch-bearers of a decent society.
She recognized the moral perversion being flaunted all around her.
She thought about her hairdresser at the Whipcurl Beauty Salon who
she suspected. Thin, limp wrists, spoke with a lisp and constantly
smoked Lucky Puffs 100’s. Although Dee found his endearments amusing,
’Darling’ this and ’Darling’ that, after a while they got on her
nerves. She dared not ask, he dared not tell. She was forever
wondering but only her hairdresser could know for sure.
“Just walk on by!” The camera slowly drew back from Preacher Dan’s
sweating face and panned the congregation. A rich male voice
announced that the Preacher Dan Inspirational Hour would return after
a few words from their sponsor. She pressed the steam button to get
an extra sharp crease and heard the famous jingle of Realife.
She looked out the living room window and watched Martin. It had
dawned on Dee how pathetic their marriage was. In her relaxed mood
she wondered if the time was right to break her decision to Martin.
Although Cal-Tex had not proposed, he had offered his farm. She could
separate at any moment. She felt more in control of her deck than she
had ever been in her life.
“Welcome back to you viewers at home and welcome to those who have
just joined us, a big welcome from the Lord,” the TV announcer
crooned. “We have all been so wonderfully touched by the powerful
sermon that Preacher Dan and his ministry are bestowing upon us. We
have been called together to celebrate with the Reverend his 33rd
year as a preacher of God’s word.
“Earlier in the program, Preacher Dan enlightened us as to how he
received his calling, the sign from God that inspired his religious
crusade. For those of you who were not with us to hear the message he
received from the Divine Himself.”
Dee pricked up her ears, and retrieved another napkin from the
laundry basket, “Preacher Dan heard his calling on his way to set up
camp in Colingus for the Church of the Secret Learn. He crashed his
car and spent the next forty days wandering through the valley. It
was the power of Christ that saved him and brought him here to be
with us today.”
“Oh shoot. I would of loved to have heard his story.” Dee stomped her
foot and walked around the ironing board to let off her frustration.
“Upon reaching the mountain top, he immediately set about writing his
testament for the people, ‘Beyond Inner Hope,’ now, in its 13th
edition. If you would like a copy of this book, or would like to find
out more about the hopes and workings of our pastor, just dial
our toll free 24-hour information hotline and we will direct you to a
lending ear. That number is 1-800-PREACHER. Once again,
1-800-P-R-E-A-C-H-E-R
or email us at: Preacherdan@newchristian.com. Or you can
always visit the First Christian website, that’s www.opportunists.com.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Preacher Dan is approaching the pulpit.” The
voice faded as the sound of the choir singing the last refrains of
‘Did We Damn Ourselves?’ rang out. Dee heard Preacher Dan clear his
throat and she picked up the iron as he started to speak.
“Brothers and Sisters, Wasn’t that heavenly? Let us thank them with
the instruments that the Lord gave us to praise those who bring us
joy.” Preacher Dan raised his hands and started to clap and his
congregation joined in. Moments later, the choir broke out with the
refrain of ‘When Opportunity Comes Marchin’ In,’ and the thunderous
applause became rhythmic.
“I would like to thank this choir,” Preacher Dan bellowed above the
rapture of music, “from the bottom of my heart and soul for their
angelic voices that bring us closer to salvation.”
Dee lost herself in the ecstasy of the music.
“Brothers and Sisters,” he thundered while wiping away the joyful
tears that had overtaken him. “I would like to introduce to you the
group of men with me today.” He choked. “Men who have put their lives
on the line for this country to keep it a holy place. These men have
made their journey all the way from McCarthy Air Force Base in Orange
County to talk with us about a grave situation in our world today.”
“The problem is the religious terrorism that exists in America’s
closest allies across the ocean, at America’s doorstep and even in
America itself. Brothers and Sisters, you’d be surprised that there
are sleepers even in our most Christian communities who assimilate by
adopting our orthodox behavior. These assimilationists are
well organized
and we must learn how to spot them. So with a big round of applause,
let us welcome our distinguished guests from the McCarthy Brotherhood
of Christian Militia.”
The audience gave a hearty welcoming round of applause and Dee
stopped ironing and joined in clapping at home. A gaggle of gray-
haired men in blue military uniforms greeted Preacher Dan with a firm
handshake and moved over to the speaker’s pulpit. The oldest in the
middle adjusted the microphone to his mouth and started to speak.
“It is my pleasure to be among such distinguished guests and the
followers of the Church of Opportunity, First Christian.” He turned
to Preacher Dan. “I want to thank you, Preacher Dan, for inviting us
to speak today on the thirty-third anniversary of your mission. God
Bless you, Brother.”
Another wave of applause followed. Preacher Dan had to stand up, take
a bow and calm the audience with arms extended, palms pushing down
for silence before he could retake his seat.
The general cleared his throat and began to beg: “Fellow Americans,
we are here today to make a plea for survival for those unfortunate
souls that do not have the freedoms that we do enjoy here in America,
God Bless Her.” He bowed his head and put his hand to his heart. “As
Preacher Dan has said, our forefathers built this nation on Godly
principles and protected them with the Bill of Rights. One of them
states the right to worship, the right to religious freedom. Yet
there are these fanatics, these pagan antilogs who want to put an end
to this freedom of worship.”
Dee was caught off guard by the use of a totally unfamiliar word. She
repeated the word in her head to try to make some sense of it but
before she could, the general had already moved on to another topic.
“Imagine your children having to pay taxes on the lifestyle you lead
today. Suppose they have to pay back the debts that you incurred,
living the high life, getting sick and living off welfare. Imagine
how you would feel having to pay the debts from your parents. I have
an even more frightening example.”
“We have passed through some turbulent times. The war is over and we
have won. Yet perverse idealism is thriving in the hearts of the
evil, who want to crush free enterprise. We must guarantee the
fundamental economic rights of trade and commerce, so that all who
participate can reap the rewards. Yet, even at America’s doorstep,
suppression and restrictions on free enterprise still exist. Their
ugly heads are springing up everywhere, even within the borders of
our glorious country. We must be prepared to fight this form of anti-
social behavior and set it on its ears.”
“There can be no such thing as a socialized state. When they talk
about free education, free medication, free food, free housing, free
love, we know as God-loving people, that nothing comes for free and
somebody always has to pick up the tab.”
A middle-aged couple, and a pretty female with puffed hair and glossy
lips who were sitting in the audience were caught on camera shaking
their heads in agreement.
“You know Preacher Dan.” The camera closed in on the reverend, also
nodding in approval. “Our bombs hit our targets and we can really
focus in nowadays on reducing the number of civilian casualties.”
“That is good to know.” Preacher Dan seemed to lip.
“We, the God fearing and God loving individuals of society,” the
general announced, sweat beads causing his toupee to peel back from
his hair line, “know the price of an honest day’s work and the rewards
it brings spiritually as well as financially. And we want to protect
your rights, our rights. How dare they demand social justice, when
they go torturing their own people, ignoring human rights?”
“But didn’t we teach them to do that?” Dee asked with freak lucidity
and picked up the iron, pressed the steam button to get a burst of
vapor, and continued ironing a tablecloth.
“It disgusts me that we are giving money to those who should not have
been practicing their free love at every carnival stand. These people
are freaks and, as I witness their death, I know it is a demand from
God!”
“I testify,” a shout came from the audience. The camera flashed onto
a man standing with his right hand raised high in the air. Others
began to stand and scream out their support. The camera panned the
entire congregation, groups of people standing, their arms raised,
ready to soak up every word of the christian general’s appeal.
The voice of the general continued, his talking head reappearing on
Dee’s television screen. “No one, in their right mind would lay down
two bits, let alone trust in leaders that advocate commune living.”
The camera jerked over to the other uniformed men with pouting lower
lips and square chins, all nodding in unison.
“That is why we are here today.”
“So you’re saying that the money goes for munitions?” Preacher Dan
interjected.
“Yes, that’s right. We are campaigning for peace. But before you can
enter into diplomacy, you’ve got to have the defense, the upper hand,
the bargaining power to make your point clear. Every house wife knows
that.”
Dee nodded in approval, back to bovine and mesmerized by the words.
“That is why for a quarter of a million, we can buy a Lockheed
missile. For ten, a Boeing helicopter. We are asking this for your
children, so they won’t have to pay for our mistakes.”
Dee put the iron aside and scrambled over to the beige Formica
breakfast nook. For liberty, I’ll help! Dee thought as she carefully
noted the details that flashed on the screen. She went to her brown
Todd’s handbag hanging on the back of a kitchen stool and pulled out
her checkbook. She made out a check for fifty dollars to the McCarthy
Brotherhood of Christian Militia and wrote ’Bomb’ in the memo space
on the check. The doorbell rang and Dee put down her pen and walked
over to the front door.
“Howdy,” a deliveryman said, and looked at the package label. “Mrs.
Griess. We’ve got a package for you. Just sign here.”
She took the SET pad while reading the nametag sewn onto his brown
overalls. “Mr. Sellers, I know you. Didn’t you use to be a salesman?
You’re the one who sold me my carpet. I even think I still have your
card somewhere.”
“Yeah Dee. I’m the one.” He tipped his visor. “I didn’t think you
would’ve remembered me.”
“Well, of course I would. Goodness, it has been along time. So how
have you been?”
“Doing well. I’ve been working for UPS for years now. I had to get
another job when the carpet company was sued by a woman who had
developed skin cancer. She says it was from the carpet.”
“Well,” a bit taken aback by his last statement, “no one in our family
has gotten sick from the carpet except maybe the cat.” She stepped
back to let the former carpet salesman take a look at the hi-low shag
while signing the SET pad.
“Well, if that be.” He poked his head into the house. “Looks like it
is in good shape.” He took the pad and handed Dee the package.
“It’s been through two kids and a lot of pacing, and it still looks
good.” She took the package and shook it. “What’s this?”
“It looks like a Floobee. I’ve been delivering a lot of them lately.
I even got one myself.” He took off his visor and rubbed his head.
“What’s a Floobee?”
“It’s for cutting hair. Didn’t you order it?”
“I don’t remember.” She shook the box. “Maybe I did.”
“Well. Happy that you’re still content with the rug,” he said,
stepping back, and adjusting his brown visor with corporate logo.
“You have a nice day, Dee. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”
Dee waved, closed and locked the front door and walked through the
house to the backyard, examining the box as she moved. “Hey Martin.”
She sat down on a designer plastic garden lounge chair. “Look what
just came in the mail.” She began to peel away the package’s wrapping
paper. “Did you order something?”
“Are you asking me something?” came Martin’s voice from behind a
Camellia bush.
“I got a package in the mail.” Dee shook the unwrapped box. “What is
this?”
“Open it up and see for yourself.” Martin peered out from behind the
bushes.
She freed the object from the protective foam and held up the strange
electrical contraption. “Martin. Did you order this?”
“I dunno, hun.”
“It’s a Floobee. The UPS man said it was a Floobee.” She looked at
the box and read the label. “You bought me a Floobee.
What’s a Floobee?”
“I didn’t buy you a Floobee,” he said mildly peeved by his wife’s nerving
questions, “Maybe Bianca ordered it for you.”
Martin meandered back to the bushes and Dee stood for a moment
thinking. There had been another reason why she wanted to come
outside but she could not remember. She took a last puff, put out her
cigarette, collected the Floobee packaging and went into the garage.
“Martin, now that you’ve got the company car, what are we going to do
about the Lima?” she asked returning from the garage and lighting a
cigarette. “Why don’t you get your friend who owns that used car lot
up on Folsum to take it and give you the money, like you did with the
Galaxy. Or we could give it to Denver.” She knew her last suggestion
would elicit a reply.
“We’re not givin’ the Lima to Denver. You know he doesn’t want to
have a car.”
“I thought if he had it, he would at least use it.”
“You know darn well he’d trash it or make an art piece out of it.”
“I suppose if he had it, he might come and visit once in awhile.
Martin!” She finally remembered what she had wanted to ask, “Martin,
do you know anything about antilogs?” She took a drag from her
cigarette. “
“What, Hun?” he asked, “What do you want to do about the tree on the
side of the property. I want to have it cut down.”
“Call the city and tell them it’s bug infested, and see if they’ll
come and remove it. Tell ’em the bugs are coming into our house.
Martin, I asked you a question. Do you know anything about antilogs?”
Dee put out her cigarette in the real clam ashtray.
“You know the city won’t pay for it. It costs a fortune to have a
tree removed.”
“Martin.” She paused and let the next sentence slip out of her mouth.
“I don’t know if I want to stay in this house too much longer.”
“What Hun?”
“I said, this house,” slightly raising her voice. “I think it’s time
to move.”
“Funny you should say that, Dee.”
Dee heard the thud of the garden statue as it plopped down on the
green lawn near the bushes. “I have been thinking, Martin, that maybe
we should …”
“Ouch! Mother of mercy, holy ghost!” Gosh darn mother of a bee-eye-
eee-hive!” Martin moaned.
“Martin? Did you hurt yourself?” She paused to listen. “Are you all
right?”
“Fine. Fine. Madonna just fell down. The hose got wrapped around her
again.”
“Martin?” she asked and stood to see if her husband needed help,
while continuing to prattle. “I think our son is a pagan antilog. I
think that is why he never picks up the phone when I call. Plus he
smokes that pot that makes him stoned.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s his life and he can go to hell
if he wants. I damn nearly smashed my foot untangling the hose from
Madonna.”
“Be more careful.”
“Careful. Schmerful.” Martin circled Madonna, looking for the best
position from which to heave the statue back up into position. “Can
you try not to wrap the hose around Madonna anymore, and tell the
gardeners when they cut the grass, to throw the clippings away in the
trash can and not dump them behind the oleander bushes anymore. It’s
an eye sore and it smells like a barn.” He circled once more.
“But they use it as mulch, Martin.”
“Smulch, mulch! The garden is overgrown as it is.” He waved his
hands. “We don’t need any more mulch. The next house is going to have
a cement backyard. Then we won’t have to do any watering.
Oh Madonna, this thing is heavy!” He grabbed the statue around the
neck and gave a tug.
“This is California. Get real Martin. Everything grows,” Dee said,
taking a few steps off the patio. “Martin. I want to talk about
something. Martin.” Dee heard Martin panting as he tried to lift
Madonna upright and was nearly successful, but then grunted out loud.
“Be careful not to strain yourself.”
“Oh my mother of Carp!” He released the statue to have it once again
thud to the ground. “Dee! Dee!” he said breathing heavily. “I think I
hurt myself. I felt something rip inside my groin.”
“Martin. Martin. I told you,”she said and watched as he tripped over the
fallen queen while grasping his belly.
“Martin!” Dee walked briskly over and knelt by her fallen husband.
“Martin. Oh my God! What did you do?”
“It’s, oh god, my her-ni-a. I felt something rip.” He grimaced,
clutching his gut. “You’ve got to drive me out,” he sneezed, “to
Mercy now. Get the car. I’ll meet you somehow.”
“Here, let me help you get up,” Dee said, and nervously flapped her
arms. “I’ll call Bud to help us.”
“Yeah.” He panted for air. “Do that. Oooh, this hurts. Get Bud now,
go on,” he drew out his words in pain.
Dee quickly scuttled around the house, furry slippers scuffling, to
go get their neighbor.
Martin could hear her screams of ‘Bud’ echoing around the cul-de-sac.
In the meantime, he tried ever so slowly to pull himself in the
direction of the garage.
“Dag nab it Martin,” an exasperated male voice called from in front
of the house. “You hurt yourself again?”
“Bud. Bud. I’m over here.’
“Here he is,” Dee said, running up from behind.
“Can you walk?”
“No. My legs are numb.”
“Here, let me help ya’.” Bud grabbed Martin under the shoulders and
tried to pull him up from behind.
Martin screamed in agony. “No! Don’t touch me. I’ll do it myself,” he
said wiggling himself free from Bud’s grip.
“Dag nab it, Martin. I know it hurts,” Bud said, his hands propped on
his hips. “I was walking around with a hernia for six months,
complaining about stomach pains all the time. They might have to
operate on you, you know?”
Dee laughed nervously and Bud bent over and took Martin from behind
again, this time succeeding in bringing him to his feet.
“Oooh. Mother bless me. This hurts like hell. Oooh. Oooh.” Martin
could barely keep steady.
“C’mon, Martin. I know. I know,” Bud sympathized, and he dragged
Martin past the patio. “Geez, you’re getting heavy. I’m going to have
to take a break,” and propped Martin up in a lounge chair.
“You want something to drink, Bud?”
“No Dee, I’ll be all right in a sec’. It’s just a few more feet. Go
open the backdoor of the car.”
“I don’t have the keys,” Dee whined.
“Where are they?”
“They’re in Martin’s pocket.”
Bud reached in, grabbed the keys and handed them to Dee. „Go open the car.”
„I’ll just grab my bag and meet you there.”
“You’ve put on a few more pounds since the last time I carried you,
Martin.”
Martin looked up, holding back a sneeze. He nearly blacked out as Bud
took him in his arms again and dragged him into the garage. A
piercing pain shot through Martin’s lower extremities, causing his
canvas boat shoes to twitch in shock and bounce on the concrete
pavement. Bud completed his haul and laid his cargo in the back seat
of Martin’s new Saturn Io.
“Get in Dee. I’ll drive.” He took the keys, started the car, and
music blasted them.
Butterflies are free at the zoo
Butterflies are free at the zoo
“How do you turn off the radio?” Bud asked, fumbling with the control
panel.
“It’s programmed to Martin’s voice,” Dee yelled. “Martin, speak. Turn
down the radio!”
The surpressed memory of oral sex with Mike Mueller suddenly
overwhelmed Martin with disgust. It took all the energy he could
muster between fits of coughing to command the radio to silence.
“Hun. Turn … Off. Hun. De …activate. Hun … Stop!”
No comments:
Post a Comment