Thursday, February 7, 2013

Yesteryou Chapter 27


Molly disliked most of the people she called “normal.”  So much indifference and stupidity, such unthinking conformity to norms, it disgusted and scared her.  That's how she was raised, by parents who felt the same way felt about normal people.  But, she also had problems with the people she nicknamed "artists," people like her who rejected religion and mass-produced ideals and traditional gender roles.  The problem she saw with most of these fellow artists was a lack of passion.  There was no fight in them, like how liberal politicians always let themselves be bullied by conservatives.  Molly responded to the world as though making bullies aware that she could not be taken advantage of, and commonplace unfairnesses were experienced as personal affronts not to be accepted.  It turned out that Vivienne and Tess were unfairness vigilantes too.  When one of the two EMT's who came to pick up Rosie's body was hoisting her up by the shoulders to lift her onto the gurney, he said to the other EMT, who held Rosie by her stiff legs, "Hey Frank, how much you want to bet she was a whore?"
Tess yelled, "Are you kidding me, talking like that about her?  You respect her.”
"Okay, okay, It's not an insult ma'am, just a fact.  She probably was a whore.  I wasn’t trying to start nothing.  Do you know the deceased’s…” but Vivienne interrupted, "It's not what you said, it's your nonchalance that's bothering her.  And you could say ‘prostitute,’ you don’t have to say “whore” like that.  You’re the whore, handling death without letting it mean anything to you, just going through the motions.  Yes, we all knew the deceased.  She was our fucking soul sister." 
"Yeah!” boomed Molly, and she kicked the side of the ambulance. 
“Assholes!,” joined Tess, and she kicked the truck as well.  Vivienne watched them and laughed.  “Fuck you guys,” she said to the irritated men, and then she took Tess and Molly by their hands and led them running and laughing down the street, an ultimately unsuccessful attempt to feel free and stronger than sadness, but fun while it lasted.  

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