Tuesday, March 9, 2021

Chapter 50. let’s go shopping - Sick Sacraments

 50. let’s go shopping


“That was a really good action you did in Burger Queen. I never would  

of thought of pulling that trick with yesterday’s numbers. That was  

really clever.” She opened the passenger door and slammed before 

she  ran.

“Yeah,” he said as he ran after Freedom towards the entrance of the  

thrift center splashing all the way. “I’ve been wanting to do it for  

some time now. Have you ever seen anybody really win the lottery?”  

They both stopped underneath the building’s awning to shake off  

excess water. “I mean, what does a person do when they win?”

Freedom shook her head.

“I did the firecrackers because I am a pyromaniac and, besides, they  

say that firecrackers get rid of evil spirits, and I sure felt that  

there were a lot of them hangin’ around the eatery.”

“You said it. Fast food places are weird. A conglomeration of all  

walks of life with a couple of aliens thrown in.” She pushed open the  

swinging glass door of the thrift center. “Ah. The Thrift Center. So,  

you were driving to Fresno and you heard a voice on the radio.”

“Yeah. You know what’s even better. I dropped the ticket at the  

entrance. Some dumb bloke is going to pick it up, or maybe they’ll  

collectively spot it and there might be a fight afterwards.”

“You are wicked. So tell me more about the Gogo experience?”

“Back to that. Okay. Like I was sayin’ in the car. My friend Denver  

and I had landed in a parking lot and were havin’ a snack, and out of  

nowhere we get this station and on it is this woman’s voice. She  

keeps on singin’ and talkin’. It must’ve been around Modesto just  

when it started to rain.”

“You know, not many people have actually heard her speak. She lives  

on a commune and doesn’t communicate very much.” She stopped 

to take  air into her lungs. “The smell of second hand, let’s go shopping.”

“Yeah. It didn’t last too long. But she said some pretty wild things.  

Most of them I agree with, except for the lesbian part. Then she gave  

us the alien code or confirmed it ‘cause I already had it.”

“Huh?” she asked and walked into the nearest aisle.

“Yeah. The code to talk to the aliens, egypt. I was tellin’ you about  

it at the B. Queen.”

“Oh yeah egypt,” she commented nonchalantly, and stopped in the  

middle of the aisle. “I heard of that before. Did she mention the  

light bulb? I particularly like that concept.”

“No. Oh yeah. She’s connected to that lightbulb. My friend was  

tellin’ me about that.”

“Yeah. You know. You both are pretty lucky. She doesn’t speak often  

and only speaks to those who listen.”

“Like the aliens.”

“So where are you staying?” She stopped where the aisles intersected  

in order to get her bearings.

“I’m livin’ in a Galaxy for a year, part of a time, slash, concept  

piece. I’m livin’ for the moment and documentin’ the shit out of it.”

“So what are we looking for?” She twirled slowly around.

“I dunno. Let’s just shop.”

“So what are you doing in Fresno?” she asked and started with a row  

of colored blouses.

“What? Like I already told you, sister. I drove here with a friend  

’cause his parents’ house burned down and nobody knew where they  

were. When we got to Fresno, I dropped him off at a café downtown. 

He  needed some time alone before dealin’ with family things. I didn’t  

feel like hangin’ around, so I decided to explore Fresno in the dark,  

this bein’ my first time here and all.”

“You’re from Sacramento and you’ve never been here before?” She  

fingered her blouse after another until they turned into dresses.

“Yeah, well, like, there’s so many things to do in Sacramento.” He  

gave a fake laugh. “Besides, my car broke down and the people were  

nice. So, I decided to stay.”

“I know that joke. They still say that there?” She checked a  

selection of faded terry cloth bathrobes on the rack opposite.

“I say it. So anyway, before I crash in the Galaxy I figured, I’d go  

out and take a look at the charred remains, but I forgot to ask my  

friend Denver the address of his parents’ house. So, I check the  

phone book and there’s like maybe, five Griesses in the phone book. 

I thought I’d get a pretty good picture of what Fresno was all about if  

I took a tour of the Griess homes, and at the first one. Bingo. House  

with hole in roof and family in tragedy.”

She threw him an oversized white robe.

“By this time.” He paused to untangle the sash from the bathrobe  

before trying it on, “It’s early mornin’ but it’s still dark ’cause  

it’s winter and it’s rainin’, and I’m getting’ a little beat myself.  

So I park my car across the street, chill out, smoke a joint and am  

just about passin’ out in the back of the Galaxy when I notice some  

lights and a car pulls into the driveway.”

“This woman gets out of the car, I guess, ‘cause the electric garage  

door opener ain’t workin’. She first tries to open the garage door  

manually but it doesn’t budge. So mom goes to the front door.” He  

took off the robe, held it up for a last check and tossed it back  

over the rack. “I don’t think so. Come over here,” Icky said and  

turned a corner. “There’s a lot of groovy stuff on this side.”

Freedom casually made her way down the aisle to follow Icky and his  

story.

“Anyway, so I can see that she doesn’t know. I’m lookin’ from across  

the street and I can see the hole in the roof. So, when she gets to  

the corner of the house, she sees that there’s no door and sees the  

charred remains of her livin’ room.”

“How come you knew about the house and she didn’t?”

“My friend got a phone call from his sister. She knew the house was  

burnt, but somehow she couldn’t find her parents. Icky, sensing that  

her concentration was temporarily lost in contemplating a pair of  

woman’s racing pants, asked, “You know why they didn’t know?”

She stopped shopping and looked up at Icky.

“She didn’t know ’cause she was with her husband in the emergency  

ward. My friend Denver told me when we had java this afternoon that  

he had some sort of accident and pulled a stomach muscle. They were  

just comin’ home from the hospital when I saw them.”

She nodded and shopped further. “Hey, did you get interviewed?”

“Yeah. I …” Icky was thrown for a second, “… I told you. I proclaimed  

myself the First Go-Go dancer of the Eureka Republic. I’m dancin’ on  

my platform for a healthier society.”

“What language do you speak?”

“Sacramentian. Why?”

“’Cause you sometimes say things so poetically.” She moved over to  

the lady’s jeans rack. “I lied and told them I was from La La Land  

and that southern california is great.”

“You said that! Traitor.”

“Yeah. I wanted to give them what they wanted to hear.” She pulled  

out a few items for further inspection. “So, how did your story end?”

“It didn’t.” Icky pulled out a couple of pairs of slacks that met his  

approval. “Mom was really freaked out. She started screamin’ and ran  

back to the car where her husband was still sittin’. She started  

poundin’ on the windshield and yellin’. I guess tellin’ him that the  

house burned down.”

“You saw all this?” she asked holding up a white pair of overalls.

“Yeah. Like I said. I saw the whole reality through the window of my  

Galaxy.”

“I think I found something I could probably dye. What do you think?”  

She held the overalls up to her body for his opinion. “Do you think  

they’ll fit?”

Icky nodded.

“So what did she do?”

“Well get this. All of a sudden, practically out of nowhere this  

other woman appears. That was the strangest thing because it took 

me awhile to figure out who she was. I kept askin’ myself where she’d  

come from.”

“Hold on a second. Hold these.” Freedom went to the front of the  

store and returned shortly with a shopping cart. “What? So she, like,  

appeared out of nowhere?” She took the overalls from Icky and placed  

them into the metal basket. Leaving the shopping cart in the middle  

of the aisle, she turned her back on Icky, and wandered away.

“Kind of like that.” He followed casually increasing or decreasing  

his voice according to his distance from Freedom. “I thought she had  

to be a relative or a good friend or somethin’ ’cause she hugged mom,  

then got her into the back seat and ran to this other car. That’s  

when I figured it out she must’ve been hidin’ out in the pink  

Cadillac that was parked in front of the house next door the whole  

time I was there.”

“I can’t believe you saw all this.” She surveyed the potpourri of  

useless objects laid out on top of the clothing racks.

“But mom escapes. She goes off runnin’ into the house and when  

daughter gets back from the Cadillac, she jumps into mom’s car,  

starts the car and backs up, and then realizes that mom’s not there.  

She slams on the brakes, sits there for a couple of minutes, then gets  

out of the car and runs into the burnt house. They both come out  

carryin’ a whole bunch of shit that mom simply drops on the front  

lawn, and goes back once more.”

“I wanna look for some shoes. Where’s the shoe department?” Freedom  

asked and pointed out a portable popcorn maker on a shelf filled with  

household items slashed for quick sale.

Icky followed Freedom and grabbed a red crayon from a cigar box full  

of children’s drawing supplies along the way. “ I think it’s over  

here. All thrift stores are the same.”

“So daughter puts her stuff in the car and then starts pickin’ up the  

stuff on the lawn that her mother dropped. She keeps on doin’ this  

until she gets fed up, I suppose ’cause it’s rainin’ and not exactly  

warm, and then she goes inside and searches for mom.”

“I don’t understand. How do you know that they’re mother and  

daughter?” She stopped for a moment to take a closer look at a sheer  

purple chiffon blouse displayed on a mannequin. “Should I get it?”

“It looks nice. How much is it?”

“Oh look.” Freedom showed him the price tag. “They know what women  

want to buy.”

“That’s still not a bad price. Let me see it.” Icky undressed the  

mannequin and handed Freedom the blouse.

“It’s my size and it’s tailored a bit. It’s got a yellow price tag.  

What does that mean?”

“They double the price and round it off by three.”

“I think I’m going to get it.” She draped it over her arm. “So  

where’s a mirror. I want to try it on.”

“Probably also in the back.”

“So how did you know that the two women were related?”

“I didn’t know. I was just guessin’. Well, not really because later  

on, like I said, I met my friend Denver. So I was right ’bout who  

they were.”

“Oh my gawd. Look at these.” She ran over to the shoe rack and  

grabbed a pair of gold painted ankle boots before anyone else dared.  

“I hope they fit.” She sat down on a metal shoe-fitting stool and  

untied her now soaked black suede ankle boots.

“Anyway. Sister gets fed up and goes to get mom who’s now haulin’ out  

what looks like the family entertainment unit, and sister stops her,  

makes her leave it and practically pushes her into the car. I could  

see mom flailin’ in the back seat but sister manages to speed off  

before she can escape again.”

“So what did you do when the drama subsided?” She removed her wet boots.

“Well, of course I’m all awake after witnessin’ this family tragedy.  

So, as soon as they left, I decided to explore. You know, too bad the  

fire happened before all the rain. But then again, I wouldn’t have a  

story to tell.”

“Attention Thrifty Center shoppers,” a female voice announced over  

the loudspeakers, “I would like to remind you of today’s shopping  

specials. Ten percent discount on all blue-ticketed items. Thirty  

percent discount on all red-ticketed items and fifty percent discount  

on all yellow-ticketed items. Plus, a shopping special. For the next  

hour fifty percent off on all book and magazine items.”

“Wow! Fifty percent off that blouse. What a deal! I love shopping.”

“Hey. Do you want to check the books out?” Icky inquired. “Where’s  

the book department?”

“I don’t know. Look upstairs.” she replied, busy examining her new  

boots.

“Let’s go have a check. I once found ten dollars in an encyclopedia  

>from the turn of the century.”

“Naw. I don’t want to go searching for money in encyclopedias. Were  

you finished with your story?” She tucked her right foot into the boot.

“Oh yeah. Now where was I? S.T.M.L. Short term memory loss.” Icky  

said, tapping his forehead with his left index finger. “Happens when  

I smoke too much dope.”

“In the house.”

“Right. So I’m in someone else’s house and that’s already kind of  

weird, and I’m lyin’ on their burnt couch and starin’ out the hole in  

the livin’ room, listenin’ to the rain drops comin’ into the house.”

“They fit.” She stood up, walked up the nearest aisle and made a  

sharp turn to accentuate her glittery footwear.

“The next thing I remember is hearin’ another car pullin’ in the  

driveway and see its headlights shinin’ into the house. So, I panic a  

little, ’cause, I’m thinkin’, whoever it is, is goin’ to think I was  

the one who burned down the house.”

“These boots are great. They were made for walkin’,” she said and  

took another quick prance up and down the aisle. “Aren’t you going to  

get anything?”

“I haven’t really been lookin’. Besides, I don’t buy. I receive. My  

friend’s got this fireman’s jacket that I gave him when I worked for  

Dorothea Puete.” He casually glanced at the row of used shoes. “Quite  

a story, but I’ll tell you another time.”

“So what do you think?” She sat down and pointed her toes.

“Great. They look great.” He watched Freedom unzip her boots. “So  

anyway, I sneak into the bedroom and hide under the master bed. The  

whole house stinks of smoke and it’s rainin’ inside, plus these  

sounds. It starts to really freak me out. I hear the refrigerator  

open and this person is drinkin’ a beer or some other beverage  

because I recognize the sound of the aluminum can bein’ opened. Then  

this person sits down for what seems like half an hour.

“Oh my gawd. Look at the price. They’re a steal.” She held up the  

boot for Icky to read the price on the sole.

“Then I hear this belch and I figure, I am dealin’ with a man.”

“Did you get out?”

“Listen. I’m under the bed and I don’t hear any more sounds so I  

decide to move a little. I turn on my little pocket flashlight and  

like wow! Everything that should be under the bed is. There’s a half  

empty bottle of whiskey, a half a pack of cigs, some porno, some  

strange dildo device still in its box, a used tube of KY. Shoes.  

Shoes! Look at these.” Icky held up a pair of white Pierre Darwin  

dancing shoes. “I got it made.” His excitement bubbled over his  

amazing find.

“Hey, great! Oh! They’re fantastic!” Freedom stood up to take a  

better look at Icky’s find. “I don’t know though. They look kind of  

narrow.”

She moved out of the way as Icky approached, sat down on the shoe- 

fitting stool and kicked off his beat black leather shoes. “Tell me  

more about what Gogo said on the radio.”

“Wait a minute. I’m not finished tellin’ the other story.” He slipped  

his right foot into the dancing shoe. “Don’t you want to know what I  

did?” He looked up at Freedom.

“Oh. I thought you were finished with shoes.”

“No. I’m still trapped under the bed and I’m hearin’ some rumblin’  

out in the kitchen and this man-thing starts walkin’ around.” He put  

on the shoes and stood to test his weight in them. “They fit.  

They’re great.” He sat down, took the red crayon and wrote a price on  

the sole of his old and wet shoes.

“Icky?”

Icky stood up after tying his shoes and caught the flash of her  

camera in the mirror. “Shoplifters in action.”

“I’m going to wear the boots.” She packed up the camera and sat down  

on the stool.

“Do you always have to have your camera with you?”

“Almost always. It’s my job. So, you’re still under the bed?”

“Yeah, anyway …” He took his old shoes and placed them in the empty  

space on the shoe rack. “… this goes on for a few minutes. In the  

meantime, I’ve taken a slug of whiskey and I am carefully turning the  

pages of the porno so that he can’t hear me. I hear him makin’ his  

way to the bedroom so I turn off my flashlight and take another slug  

of the whiskey.

“Let’s go look for some shirts for you. Here. Follow me.” Freedom  

walked towards the men’s clothing section, dropping her old shoes and  

the blouse into the shopping basket on the way, and stopping to  

rummage through the leggings bin.

“Try these on.” She sorted out a pair of white tights. “Here look at  

these.” She waved them at Icky. “Go on. Try them on.”

“No. I don’t do leggings. Is this story still interestin’?

“Yeah. Go on. I’m listening. I’m just shopping at the same time.”

Icky cleared his throat. “So. This man-thing comes into the bedroom  

and he’s got a big flashlight. He starts fumblin’ through the  

drawers, looks into the master bathroom. I’m glad as a devil in a  

whorehouse that I’m not hidin’ in the shower. Finally, he sits on the  

bed, lies back and gets comfortable.”

“Do you like this?” Freedom held up a polyester crocheted throw with  

fringe.

Icky signaled his distaste and she went over to a nearby mirror to  

make a personal judgment.

“Do you think, I should do the overalls,” and held them up for  

display, “or should I look for a slacks and sweater combo, however  

unpractical it might be?”

“Do the overalls. Go for convenience.”

“I’m sorry.” She smiled and walked up to Icky. “So what happens next?”

“Yeah. So great, this man’s made himself comfortable and before you  

know it, he’s snorin’.”

“So you’re like trapped?” She shuffled through the scarves and belts  

draped over a metal frame at the end of the aisle.

“Yeah. So like I do the only thing I can. I take a few slugs of  

whisky and that puts me out like a bug in a bonfire. Somehow I’m able  

to pass out under these horrible conditions.”

“I think I’m going to get this scarf.” She pulled out a yellow crepe  

scarf. “Well. How did you get out of there?”

“I woke up when I heard him rummagin’ through the highboy. By this  

time, I’m gettin’ tired of being trapped under the bed. So when he  

finally leaves the bedroom, I creep out, shake myself awake and  

almost get to the front door when I hear this crack. I turn around  

and see this seven-foot tall, two-hundred-pound man-thing comin’ out  

of the bathroom. So he says, ‘Excuse me, son,’ in this valley drawl  

and asks me if I know Dee Griess. I immediately shift into high gear  

’cause I loathe when anyone calls me son. So, I go and rattle off a  

few notes on social ethics and respect.”

“Boy. This is a lot of scarf,” she said while wrapping it around her  

neck. “It must be ten feet long and two feet wide. It could double as  

a sari.”

“He excuses all over himself and we start talkin’. He says he’s  

lookin’ for Dee Griess and shows me a picture of a woman sittin’ in a  

car dressed as a cow. We have a good laugh because there is no way in  

the world I would recognize anyone dressed as she was. I tell him  

about bein’ under the bed. I remember the whiskey and we bond,  

laughin’ all the way.”

“I’m ready.” She unwrapped the scarf from her neck, bundled it around  

her arm, and went to retrieve the shopping cart. “Do you still want  

to look at shirts?”

“Naw. I’m ready.” He followed Freedom, not missing a beat in his  

story. “So, I try to help this poor guy. I think that maybe he’s a  

friend or somethin’ and I tell him about the woman in the Cadillac  

and give him the list of the other Griess abodes in Fresno, and he’s  

really grateful. Never seen anyone splutter over himself with so much  

gratefulness. He kept askin’ if he could do somethin’ for me.”

Freedom rolled her shopping cart to the checkout counter and piled  

her finds on the counter.

“So I think fast and tell him that I can use some gas money and a  

bite to eat, and as quick as a wink, he reaches into his pocket and  

pulls out a crumpled up hundred dollar bill!”

“Oh my god. That’s great.”

“Yeah. Really fine. Can you believe it? I kinda did win the lottery.”

“Will that be all?” The cashier looked at Freedom.

“No, the shoes.”

Icky gulped and Freedom put her foot up onto the counter in order for  

the cashier to read the sole of her shoe.

“Yeah, the shoes.” He reached into his jeans pocket and tossed a few  

bills on the counter. “That’s okay.” He held a hand out to stop  

Freedom from rummaging in her purse. “I’ll pay.”

“Thanks man.” She smiled. “Look. C’mon. I’ll treat you to a coffee  

and cake. If you can believe it, there is a nice café downtown.”

“I think I know it. I think this must be a one café town.” Icky  

received his change and collected the paper grocery bag filled with  

Freedom’s new winter collection.

“We should have bought an umbrella,” Freedom said following Icky to  

the parked car. “By the looks of things, we should of bought a raft.”  

He unlocked the passenger side door as quickly as possible.

“Hey!” Freedom shouted over the hood of the Galaxy. “I’ve been  

meaning to ask you. How did you get the name Icky?”

“Funny you never asked,” he said and got into the Galaxy.

“’I know what it’s like. People ask me all the time about my name.”

“It’s another story. I’ll tell you at the café.” He stamped his feet  

on the floorboard. “I don’t think these shoes are very good for the  

rain.”

“Oh, you did steal them! I forgot you had them on.”

“Yeah right!” He raised his fist. “Shoplifters and Lesbians of the  

world, unite and take over.” He started the car and revved the engine.

“People to the power.”

He shifted into gear. “Damn! These shoes were not fair trade.”





No comments:

Post a Comment