People in Trouble (28 page)

Molly ran up to Fabian, deep in negotiation at the front of the crowd.

"How did this happen?"

"Molly, good, Bob needs you to help by the poultry counter."

Fabian was fully decked out in leather cutouts, chaps, boots with spurs and a series of bandannas in a variety of colors.

"How did all these people get here?"

"Mario and Roger went out last night leafleting the welfare hotels and the Third Street men's shelter.
 
People were lining up hours before we got here, just wanting to see what would happen.

It's scary when you put out the call and the people actually show up.

If we don't deliver, this crowd is going to be real pissed off."

"So ?"

"So, go help out Bob.
 
He's got chicken cutlets coming out of his ears."

Sam went around to check out the back and Molly made her way through the men.
 
It was mostly men.
 
Young men.
 
There were some women and they had kids with them but most of the men came alone.
 
Some smelled so badly she retched.
 
She almost threw up from the smell.
 
Someone asked her for money, she said no.
 
Some people were all right, but some people stank of urine.

Bob had his hands full with papers and a disoriented Pathmark staff.

He was easy to spot, being so tall and silver in a Stetson and a red and white checked shirt with silver-rimmed pearl snaps.

"Molly, this is Mario.
 
This is Don.
 
They are our Chineseand Spanish-language interpreters.
 
We're expecting a whole Chinatown contingent any minute and we have extra take-home wagons available for families who have to walk long distances."

They all shook hands.

"I'm afraid we're in a slight state of chaos here.
 
So, Molly, figure out a way to get people to line up so they can get in touch with the appropriate translator."

The three of them went back into the crowd and Molly tried yelling, "Line up, line up," but that didn't work.

"That's not going to work," Mario said.

Right then the Chinese contingent arrived, mostly older women with stacks of empty shopping bags.
 
Don yelled something out in Chinese.

"What did you say?"
 
Molly asked.

"I said, `Line up, line up."

"Didn't work," Mario said.

Finally Bob stood up on the back of a delivery truck and yelled through a bullhorn.
 
"If you want free food be quiet now!"

That worked.

"Okay," Bob said.
 
"The following food is available for free: meat, fish, chicken, all protein, cheese, eggs, dairy, beans, flour, rice, fresh fruit, vegetables, good bread, real juice, nuts, peanut butter, spice, oils and other whole foods.
 
Also vitamins.
 
And remember this supermarket sweepstakes is brought to you by none other than the friendly faggots and dykes of Justice."

Then Mario and Don did quick translations.

The crowd became unexpectedly attentive and well behaved, although there was a definite undercurrent of "wait and see" about all of it.

Molly remembered Sam and then found out she was right there beside her.

"The closest thing I've ever seen to this before," Sam said, "was waiting on line for five hours in the cold to get ten pounds of that goddamn cheese the government was giving away.
 
Remember?
 
It wasn't even good cheese.
 
It was that orange waxy kind."

"When you get to the checkout counter," Bob continued, "and the hardworking woman at the machine asks you how you intend to pay, just tell her `Charge it."
 
Repeat after me: `Charge it!"
 
And everybody did.

"There we go, a little more group spirit can never hurt.
 
Then, I'll put your bill on these American Express cards.
 
The actual owners of these cards are unable to be with us today because they are in the hospital.
 
But they send their love and authorization to all of you.

Okay, easy does it.
 
Now, let's go."

Fortunately Mario, Molly, Don, Sam, Bob and Fabian all had the same thought at the same moment, which was to get the hell out of the way, because the men and women came bursting through the front doors with such fury that the shatterproof plateglass windows shuddered in their frames.

The Justice boys and girls took turn running like crazy up and down the checkout lines shuffling plastic back and forth.

- "Don't leave home without it," Fabian said, every time their paths crossed.

People went straight for the meat, of course.
 
But once they had it in their baskets they allowed themselves some long-agoforgotten pleasures like peaches.
 
Or ice cream.
 
There is food that fills you up and then there is food that tastes so good in the mouth it makes a person feel human again.
 
It brings back memories.
 
It reminds a guy of other things.

After half an hour, Bob came panting over to where the girls were handing out credit slips.

"We're almost all out of everything of nutritional value," he gasped.

"All that's left is junk."

"There are still people coming in the door," Sam called over her shoulder.

-"Well, we can't be unduly moralistic," Don said.
 
"Let people take whatever they want, even if it is Fritos and Diet Coke.
 
I -mean, when you need to eat, you need to eat."

So Don and Mario and Bob got back on the megaphone and that set off another rush, only this time for frozen pizza, Spam, hot dogs and Cool Whip.

"Now what?"
 
Molly asked when Fabian ran up with a worried expression.

"People who only got fresh meat and good vegetables are complaining," he said.
 
"Because they really wanted Twinkies."
 
After an emergency consultation the crew decided they had no right to tell people what to eat.
 
They could only make suggestions and immediate happiness was not a negligible goal, so they let the first-timers go through again for their sugar fix.
 
Bob couldn't let go completely though, so he sat by the freezer section yelling out "Haagen-Dazs, Haagen-Dazs!"
 
hoping to have some influence.

"This is an issue we have to seriously consider in the future," Mario said.
 
"This cannot be denied."

When the last bottle of Thousand Island dressing was taken and the last can of pork and beans and the last jar of Fluff was packed into a carrier bag, Bob handed over one of the well-worn credit cards to a guy who had only gotten a six-pack of Good `N Plenty.

"Do something truly inspired with this card," Bob said, totally exhausted.
 
"Do something fabulous."

When the last person left and the Pathmark staff had crashed on each of the checkout-line conveyor belts, the men and women of Justice stood, together, silently holding on to one another and looking over the empty white cavern, watching the fluorescent lights ricochet off the empty shelves.

"It kind of looks like a monstrous, empty refrigerator," Fabian said.

"We're doing something real important," Don said.
 
"We're making a difference today and it's not as hard as I thought it would be."

"Yeah, well," Mario said.
 
"It seems like a big deal right now but tomorrow it will be over.
 
I've been in politics a long time and little actions like this only work if they inspire people on to bigger ones."

On the way to the subway Don and Molly started to chat it up a bit because this was Don's first political experience and he was excited no matter what Mario said.
 
Besides, they had seen each other at lots of meetings but had never gotten a chance to talk before.

"So, do you have a boyfriend?"
 
Molly asked.

"My boyfriend died four years ago," Don said.
 
"I've had a hard time getting another one because no one wants to get emotionally involved with someone who might die.
 
But I don't want to take that stupid test, so every time I'm on a date I have to decide whether to tell them or not."

They put their tokens into the slots and gave coins to a musician, even though they couldn't hear a thing over the subway roar.
 
Sam was there too but she didn't say much.

"Look at all the people on this train," Don said.
 
"Think any of them will hear about what we've done?"

"Some.
 
A few.
 
A couple probably."

"Which ones?"

"The ones who read page ten of the Daily News."

He was drinking juice out of a carton and offered her some.

She took it.

"So, do you think I should get the test?
 
What do you think, Molly?"

"How will you feel if you're positive?"

"Depressed."

"How will you feel if you don't know?"

"I feel fine, really."

"It's up to you.
 
I mean, if you find someone who really cares about you, it probably won't matter if you take it or not."

"I think I'll wait.
 
I don't feel like being hysterical for the next three years."

"Good idea."' When Don got off the train Molly sat back quietly with her hand in Sam's lap.

"Why did you drink out of his carton when he might have AIDS?"

"It's a rite of passage.
 
People who may be HIV positive inevitably offer you a drink out of their glass.
 
It's a test of loyalty to see if you're prejudiced or not, to see if you are informed enough to know that you can't get it that way."

"That roommate I told you about?"
 
Sam said.
 
"The one who -died?"

"Yeah."

"He shit all over himself and I had to clean it up.
 
He was too sick to move so he had to lie in it until I got home."

Molly put her arm around Sam and buried her face in her neck.

"Sam, are you afraid?"

"I don't know," she said.
 
"I don't know what I feel."

That night Shelley sat next to Peter in an audience.
 
She looked beautiful.
 
She was charming with the people they met and she held her hand discreetly on his thigh throughout the entire third act.

Afterward he took her backstage and showed her what a gel frame looks like, and a color wheel.
 
He took her up into the booth and showed her how a dimmer board works.
 
He explained how to cross-fade, how to sneak one in.
 
He briefly mentioned plugging and showed a trick way to wrap a cable.
 
She wasn't afraid to go up on the catwalk.
 
In fact, she loved it.

"Maybe I can get you a job on a new production.
 
That would be more fun than working at a Xerox store, don't you think?
 
You can be an electrician."

-"Pete, how could I do that?
 
I don't know anything about electricity."

"It's easy.
 
I'll teach you.
 
I'll teach you in a week."' I could make her life so much more exciting, he thought.
 
I could teach her so many things.
 
Maybe she'll get really good and we can work together until she becomes a designer on her own.

It felt great having Shelly in his bed.
 
She absolutely belonged there.

Her hair looked beautiful so long and full against the sheets.

"Look at those books on your night table," she said.
 
"Derrida, yuch.

I tried to read that for semiotics, sophomore year."

"You took semiotics?"

"I dropped it.
 
Then I took women's studies instead.
 
Bataille?

IYuch.
 
I tried to read that, the one about the eye.
 
All he kept talking about was cramming, ramming and stuffing his cock inside some woman.
 
Is this what you read before you go to bed?

Well, it's a good way to fall asleep."

"Somebody's got to keep the university presses in business," he chuckled.
 
"And somebody's got to keep intellectuals off the streets.

Besides, it gives me deconstructed dreams."
 
He laughed aloud.

"Are you teasing me?"

Her breasts were mostly nipple, long thin pink ones.

"It's not that difficult, really.
 
Do you want me to explain it to you?"