Lifetime of Moratoriums
(By Rick Copper)
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Wordy title? Yes, but necessary. Let's get to the stories:
Lifetime of Moratoriums
What makes those normal, when faced with bizarre occurrences, feel the need to lay blame on those not like them without just cause? Is it simply fear or insanity overriding rationality?
Senior citizens are being stripped of dignity and clothing while being placed on public display in the sleepy suburb of Schaumburg, Illinois. They are found everywhere: median strips; recycling bins; elementary school playgrounds; dry cleaners; the comically economically grouped single Saturday events of a Civil War Reenactment, World War I Model Airplane Dogfight and Frisbeer Homecraft Brew and Frisbee Golf Festival.
Popular consensus lays blame on MrAld (emerald) Thausen. MrAld, upon the death of his mother, lives alone in her house with his pet Chinese turtle Mao. He works full-time as the main mall's shuttle bus driver, part-time as a counterperson at Maxi's Meat Shoppe. Given improper medication for anxiety after his mother's death, he was caught wearing nothing but sneakers as he walked his turtle. MrAld is different, but brilliantly organized.
MrAld is befriended by Dana, who's a deli worker, part-time crop duster and new butcher's aide. Intrigued by MrAld's quirkiness, she helps him expand his very limited horizons of work, home, turtle and his hang-out Icky's Diner. She teaches him how to cut up a chicken, and more importantly, how to lighten up.
Sheriff Todd "Chili" White's gut, as little of it there is, doesn't believe MrAld is the perpetrator. Only pressure forces him to continually question MrAld. As summer turns to fall and crimes continue, so does frustration. Only MrAld's organizational psyche, through growing confidence from Dana, finds the guilty party.
Camel
Monotony, people droning on and on about particular problems not that particular or unique at all drains any patient person.
Robert, aka “Norman,” has been through a multitude of spousal support drug addicts and alcohol abusers meetings with Amie, aka “Francine.” He’s sick and tired of hearing the same stories from the same people detailing their same problems over and over again.
This meeting was going on no different than the other dozen or so meetings he and Amie had attended. Cigarette smokes, all various varieties of Camels, ran roughshod through the small meeting room.
All attendees were subtly fighting to be the center of attention, most bemoaning their tribulations while breaking their hands patting themselves on the back for trivial successes. Doris was the exception. She recognized her hole and stepped aside it without tears. Most couldn’t get through a day without bawling like a baby.
Coffee came out as Robert started antagonizing some of the attendees by spouting facts. He couldn’t lie still and buy their fabrications. This night, a cold October night in Chicago, came to a head.
Robert needs to get out, and does with a certain level of panache.
Cerebral Cortez (Story number three)
How does a woman satisfy both her left and right hemispheres?
Ramon “Cerebral” Cortez, nicknamed by his friend Inez, lives on Pomplamoose, the Cortez family estate located in northern Mexico. He lives alone, childless and without spouse.
Inez is also childless. However, she’s married to another of their friends, Alejandro. Alejandro and Inez run taquerias where their signature dish is Tacos Al Pastor. Created by Alejandro, they are carnitas soft corn tacos seasoned with spices and Pomplamoose’s grapefruit juices.
Along with three grapefruit trees, Pomplamoose has organic gardens, ducks, horses, a burro and a herd of goats. One of the goats helped make Cerebral wealthy. Working on a new popcorn popper, an insanely curious goat stole his prototype. Left in the sun, the popper worked using solar power. It sold like crazy.
She romances Ramon “Cerebral” Cortez’ visions, throwing flowery praise at him as he humbly deflects his ingenuity. Inez needs no protector. Independent as she is feisty, she is the leader. As such, she takes what she wants when she wants it, using guile and a touch of soft-hearted femininity.
The Rain Fell (final story)
A single day, a Monday in February, ground is frozen and it’s raining. A lot. 100 hours of rain. Nowhere to go, rain seeks its level in Libertyville, Illinois. River floods, streets flood, evacuations proceed.
Ben Emmers works two jobs. He’s an assistant manager in food service at Libertyville’s Holiday Inn as he works his way up in EMT training as a paramedic’s assistant. Single, living alone after his girlfriend leaves him, he lives day-to-day.
There’s a party… of sorts. Drug addicts in the basement of the Fair Oaks Apartments, a destination for those first out from under their parents comfort. Heroin is shot by the five guys and one girl. Everyone brings something to the get-together. The female, Bobbi, brings her body. She backs out on her end of the deal, fleeing to her new apartment on floor 3.
After working his shift at the Holiday Inn, Ben rests, does some cocaine and gets ready to take on his shift at the fire department. He fills his time with cards and novellas until the department gets a call.
She’s in the semi-frozen mud, lying just off the sidewalk beside craggy brick making up Fair Oaks Apartments. Salvation within him becomes manifested by her.”
