Lauren’s hero had an androgynous look, but as soon as he opened his mouth, she could immediately tell he was male. At first sight she liked his green eyes, aquiline nose, red hair, and gentle voice. She liked the sound of his name. They loved romances and admired the same actors and musicians. For a few seconds she imagined she was in love with Josh, who repeated his name a lot in no time. Did he think she was deaf or was he so in love with his own name that he loved to hear it? By the time they reached the apartment where he lived, Josh went from ten to zero on her chart.
Then Josh's tongue got twisted, and all the good qualities she had neatly packaged and labeled became defective. He became critical of ‘those fat slobs across the river.’ He called himself a purist who believed his own words to be the foundation for his faith. His hatred of obese people ran deep. He saw them as evil because they used up most of the world's resources. They disgusted him and he thought they should be reduced, reshaped, and reformed.
He spoke like an orator conscious of an invisible audience. He sure wasn’t talking to her. He cried out how criminal the 'ignorant troglodytes' of Fat City were and how they killed animals by shooting them in the head. Then they gutted them, skinned them, cut them up and ground them into meat. Lauren didn’t want to hear any gory details, but Josh went on as if he were lecturing. ‘Those fat monsters’ tore the livers out of live geese to make pâté. The Chinese splayed live dogs on boards as they yelped for a quick death. The Koreans lopped off the top of monkey heads and ate pulsating brains out of their skulls. Josh was full of information. He was dedicated to a cause against 'murdering carnivores!' He expressed a passionate sorrow for bears, tigers, whales, seals, and he even felt great concern for ants, spiders, and worms. He almost sounded like a Buddhist, except that he loved the sound of his own voice.
The image of compassionate Josh hit the dirt when he elaborated on a program his movement was creating to make the world a better place. They would capture all the Amy MacGregors and fry them to see how it felt to be a piece of deep fried chicken. And soon doctors would trim the fat off their bodies to fit them to government specifications.
Lauren thought of Amy and her kind friends, and realized they were to become victims of a maniacal organization. There was no way she could ever marry a heartless beast even if he were of a heroic nature. Why had this thought even crossed her mind? How could he think that an ant was of a higher value than the woman who had cared for her? Suddenly, Amy was achieving sainthood. Lauren equated her to Gandhi, Jesus, Buddha, Mother Teresa and Albert Schweitzer, whom her dad had mentioned more than once. Josh was now at the bottom of the food chain.
Lauren pulled her hand out of his sweaty fist and stopped dead in her tracks. Josh turned to her with a cruciferous expression, which looked unhealthy.
"What's wrong? Are you all right?" he asked in the most genteel way she'd ever heard a young man express himself.
For a second, she felt like erasing his image as dictator of Fat City, but she, too, had principles, which were based on love. That's all! Love, not some laws to regulate people's diets so they could conform to the government specifications of what men, women, and children should weigh. But she kept her tongue safely tucked away and asked, "Where are you taking me?"
"To be a part of our Utopia!" he said with passion.
Instead of agreeing or disagreeing with him, she followed in his footsteps. She added to her list of unfavorable features: Josh talks too much. He is bossy! She couldn't stand people who wouldn't allow her to express herself.
If she had mentioned how kind and gentle the women in Fat City had been, he wouldn't have taken her seriously. Josh had all people pegged in round holes. They had to fit his meaning of the world perfectly, because he was perfect.
Josh led Lauren inside a well-lit building. The walls had murals of birds, forests, fish and sea mammals, painted to remind the inhabitants of this very minuscule microcosm that everything was fragile.
Josh opened the door and ran to the TV to see himself on the screen pulling Lauren away from the 'cannibalistic hordes of Fat City!' His name was mentioned as the savior of 'one of his own.'
The news of Lauren's arrival preceded her without introduction. She stood like a poorly manufactured puppet without much of a role in a living room where no one was concerned with her presence. Everyone was more interested in seeing news than paying attention to her. As they watched their battle against the axis of evil from Fat City, Lauren observed them. The young and older women were wearing green clothing, while Josh and what appeared to be his father were wearing carrot-colored pants and shirts. All of them were wearing flags of the New World imposed on a green and blue earth to show their love for all living beings. The motto 'Love all as they love you' surrounded the globe.
Once the news was over, Josh pointed to Lauren as if she were a stray cat he'd just rescued from the jaws of a Pomeranian. She was glad she hadn't invested any of her emotions on a narcissistic carrot!
"You're so lucky, dear. If it hadn’t been for Josh, those monstrous-looking women, if you can even call those creatures women, would have eaten you alive. I just hope they didn't force you to perform any indecent acts. They sometimes come across the river and capture our girls to pervert them. It's horrifying to hear what they've done in the past. I can't even repeat any of it!"
The woman couldn't stop talking and didn't seem aware of the words cascading out of her mouth without meaning. She was stuck in a pattern, repeating what she heard and saw for the sake of giving a sense of greater goodness that could only belong to her. So, she repeated, "Last week alone three of our teen girls were kidnapped and force-fed bloody raw beef until they were so sick and so toxic they almost died. The girls were lucky to escape with their figures undamaged. Our faith sustains us all. We purged their bodies, but it was hard for our shamans to purify their minds!
“Our police force now patrols our shores with greater vigilance. We keep an eye on our boys and girls. Yet, we have, I admit, problems. We are perfect, but some of us have impure minds and souls, not Josh though. But some of those nasty boys sneak across and gorge on meat. God only knows what else they do with the fat women they encounter! Or what the fat does to their minds! Fat City is the city of perversion on our peninsula.
“Last month Charles, a friend of Josh, came home so drunk on beef, he smelled like a foul heifer. It took days for us to make sense of what he was saying. He kept commenting that he was in love with a woman who had more love in her heart than any of our women. How could he betray our own sex and fall for a woman three times his size? I don't want to appear prejudiced, but it's a fact that such obscene women are contaminated with pesticides, hormones and other toxic chemicals, not to mention sinful intentions! There is a lot of truth to the saying, 'You are what you eat!'
“It took over two weeks to detoxify his body. His mind may be lost forever. We pray for him daily, but apparently nothing will bring him back to us.
“We visit him at the asylum, but he looks more depressed in spite of the drugs he is taking. Why can't every boy be like Josh?" the woman's voice trailed into the void.
The carrot-looking man on the couch munched on carrots, sitting as silently as a snake, burrowed in his own skin. He had nothing to say or add to his wife's speeches.
"I'm Lauren," Lauren said to him as she put out her hand to shake his.
"We know!" he said, interrupting his munching, but didn't proffer his hand and omitted the mention of his name.
"We don't shake hands here,” continued the woman. “It isn't polite to spread germs, dear. You never know what you can catch from the most perfect strangers. And right now we have an anti-kissing campaign going. God, the diseases you can spread with your lips! Still, young people and some old ones too, who should know better, kiss even in public!
“I have to smell Doreen's lips on a daily basis. Josh is the only one who obeys all our rules. Well, enough of my sermonizing.
“If you decide to live on this side of the river, you will have to obey all rules to be free. Do you have any questions? No. Then, let's eat!" the broccoli woman said.
Lauren decided the woman's hair was green because of all the vegetables she ate.
"I hope you ARE a Vegan!" the woman said, her teeth as green as spinach.
"Yes," Lauren said, hoping the broccoli woman liked at least one more color than just green.
Lauren had no intention of turning green, when she heard the woman exclaim, "Dinner is served!" She looked at the table set with five large jars, three filled with a green liquid, and two with carrot-colored juice.
"Sit next to me," the woman said to Lauren.
"Why do they get carrot juice and we get green stuff?"
"Picky, picky, Lauren. There are no choices in our free world. We are, however, free of choice. The Health Bureau of Vegans tested foods for years, and they came to the scientific conclusion that women and men are different. Our mineral needs also vary. We need more iron, men more carotene. Therefore, the green and carrot drinks. It's delish! Ask Doreen. See how fast she drank hers! Drink up, and you girls can play together or talk if you'd like."
Doreen licked her lips and said, "You'll get used to it, but it's not the end of the world!" She left the table and went to her room.
Josh and the man finished their carrot drinks. They belched several times and laughed along with the broccoli woman. She, too, had finished her drink. Lauren wondered why they were laughing so hard. Were they making fun of her because she hadn't touched hers?
"Drink up, dear!" the woman said, in a suddenly unfriendly voice.
To avoid confrontation with the skin-covered skeleton with broccoli hair, Lauren drank the green goop in one gulp.
"Good girl! You can go now! Doreen will tell you how things work here! If you get hungry, feel free to eat whatever we have in the fridge. Pleasant dreams, dear."
"Good-night," Lauren said, politely apprehensive.
Josh and the man who passed for his father didn't respond.
Lauren went to Doreen's room, where she was greeted warmly and with great enthusiasm. Doreen hugged and kissed her on both cheeks several times like a large puppy dog starving for love and attention. Lauren was overwhelmed with anxiety. Had the green drink turned Doreen into a lesbian?
"I'm so glad you're here. That woman in there is not my mother. They placed me in this home so she can keep an eye on me. You don't know how happy I am you're here with me."
"So, what rules am I supposed to follow?"
"None."
"What?"
"Follow the rules when they're watching you, and break them when they're asleep."
"How do you do that?"
To prove her point, Doreen rolled up the rug next to the bed, lifted several boards from the floor, and like a resistance fighter, pulled out several bags of chips and two containers of onion sour cream dip! Doreen dove into her Doritos like a pelican filling its gullet with fruits of the sea.
Lauren was as hungry as Doreen for the exotic, which she was being denied. She waited in silence for Doreen to come to her senses, which she did after several fistfuls of chips. Having satisfied her taste buds, Doreen handed her a bag of chips and a container of dip and said, "Knock yourself out!"
Lauren opened a fresh bag, and was about to take hold of a chip and dip it into the onion and cream, when she stopped short of putting it inside her mouth.
'What if this is a trap? What if Doreen is just pretending, to find out how much of a Vegan I am?'
"Don't you love chips?" Doreen asked.
"Yes, and I'm hungry."
"What are you afraid of?"
"I don't want that green-headed skeleton to smell my breath!"
"Is that all? I've got spinach breath freshener! Don't worry so much. Eat! Or it's that green shit for breakfast!"
"What?"
"Three meals of green puke, Lauren."
"Why?"
"Because adults think it's good for young people. This green crap is supposed to make us live to be over a hundred. Can you imagine that?"
"And eat that crap for another 85 years? Jesus, I'd rather die."
"That's what I'm saying, Lauren. Death looks more appetizing to my friends than that green, disgusting crap!"
"What's it made of?" Lauren asked, not like she wanted to know, but since she had drunk of the nameless, brand-less liquid, she wanted to be sure of the uncertain.
"You don't wanna know!" Doreen responded.
"Why?"
"Because I don't know and don't care."
"Where do you get these chips?"
"Some of us sneak to Fat City and buy contraband from some of our fat friends."
"Don't parents notice some of you are gaining weight?"
"I gain weight everyday, but I have friends on the other side of the river who give me clothes that fit me. Do you think I'm getting too fat? Really, tell me. I don't want to get too fat, but I sure as hell don't want to look like that skeleton in there!"
"I don't think you're fat at all," Lauren said as she finished off the entire bag of chips along with the onion dip.
Lauren looked inside the bag, even though she was full. She still felt hungry. Aware that she might be perceived as heavy by the broccoli-headed skeleton in the morning, she refrained from asking Doreen if she had any more food stashed away.
Without saying a word to Lauren, Doreen opened the window and stepped out.
"Where are you going?" Lauren asked, afraid of being left alone.
"Come with me. I'm going across to see my friends. We're going out for burgers and beers. They're much more tolerant than the people on this side, Lauren. Then, we'll go out dancing and watch movies. Com'on!"
"No. That's all right," she answered, afraid she might be found missing by the broccoli-headed skeleton, who would force her to drink barrels of that green liquid to purify her mind, body, and soul.
Doreen disappeared in the dark and wouldn't return until morning, which was as dark as night.
Lauren remained alone in the room. She sat on the bed without light and wondered why she had suddenly become so apprehensive and indecisive. She should have left with Doreen and gone across the river to eat, drink and be merry. Or she could have returned to Fat City and looked for Amy MacGregor, which would have been an almost impossible feat with the existence of so many Amy MacGregors. Or she could have taken off on another road, if she had been daring enough to leave this room. And perhaps she could have sneaked into one of the rowboats, and flowed down river until she met decent people who were neither fat nor skeletal and who had their heads screwed on right.
Lauren was incapable of making a choice. She thought the green concoction had been spiked with a mind-altering chemical. She sat still, aware of her own thoughts. She told the Other to get up, which she did. She continued to command the Other to walk to the door, grab the doorknob, walk into the living room and ask if she could perhaps use a computer or watch TV, which the Other did. Even though she had performed everything according to her will, she was certain her drink had been spiked. If it hadn't been, she would have walked out the window with Doreen and gone back to Fat City to continue her quest from there.
Lauren felt as if she were in limbo, neither here nor there, not even in the living room, where she now stood in front of the smiling broccoli woman, whose name was still unknown to her. It was strange that Josh and Doreen had a name, while the adults hadn't had the courtesy to introduce themselves.
"Can't sleep, dear? You should do like Doreen and Josh. . . ." she said.
"What's that?" Lauren interrupted on a sudden wave of emotions, but bit her tongue.
Lauren smiled as wide a smile as she could simulate, and the broccoli head showed her teeth in return.
"They pray, dear. Didn't your parents teach you how to pray?"
'Pray for what?' Lauren thought.
"You must pray for all creatures God created. I, for one, pray for the little goldfish from my childhood. I still remember the day my mother punished me for some ungodly reason by flushing little Cleo down the toilet! Can you imagine the shock on his little golden body as he swam through pools of feces to reach the ocean? My mother thought it would be better free swimming in the briny sea. I told her how cruel she was to have done what she did. I also informed her that goldfish don't live in salt water. All she could say was, 'Fish is fish. All they need is water. And Cleo will get used to salt whether he likes it or not.' That's what she said. Poor Cleo!"
Lauren stood still, certain the broccoli-head would revive Cleo. Once resurrected out of the sewage, he would reach a stream that would take him to the open sea. There his gills would adapt to the briny waters and Cleo would eventually grow up to be a whale. Sure enough, the broccoli tongue unraveled a tale more fantastic than the one Lauren had imagined. The story of Cleo's survival might have served Scheherazade well, but Lauren didn't see any point to the broccoli's story.
"I'm tired," Lauren said, with daring in her voice, and returned to Doreen's room.
"You don't look tired, dear. Besides, I'm not finished."
Lauren couldn't understand why she had to stand before the babbling tongue and listen to any more about her dumb goldfish Cleo who must have died in all the human crap before coming up for air. Or maybe an alligator flushed down a New York toilet ate him after it made its way to Fat City. Or maybe Cleo had made it to the briny sea, grown into a big fat whale and been hunted down by Greenland Eskimos who ate all its muktuk and meat piece by piece out of great respect for its size.
Lauren resisted her own tongue. The broccoli had no more to say concerning Cleo, but she had only begun to pray. Praying for Cleo alone would, in her own words, have been a selfish thing to do when there were so many other unfortunate creatures being poisoned by pollution and killed needlessly by carnivores. She prayed for fish and fowl alike. She prayed for insects, reptiles and mammals, even for vultures, foxes and the platypus, which she disliked because of their odd behavior. Nonetheless, she prayed for them. She even prayed for the extinct dodo, Tasmanian devil and a whole list of no longer extant beings.
In all the praying the broccoli did, Lauren noticed the absence of women, men, and children from her worship of creatures, large and small.
"Don't you pray for people?" Lauren dared to ask, thinking the broccoli would turn into a Venus flytrap and snap her head off for asking a question that contradicted her credo and list of Biblical laws.
"Of course, dear. Of course, we pray for people. I always pray for my salvation. Josh and Doreen pray for me, and I'm sure, he prays for me too," the broccoli pointed to the carrot sitting up asleep next to her. "We pray for each other, dear. We live in perfect harmony, believing in the same things. We must believe in the same things or we shall fall. Only united can we stand. You should talk to Josh and Doreen. I must sound like a schoolteacher. They can explain it all better from their youthful perspective."
"Don't you pray for other people? The poor people dying in Africa, India, China?" Lauren asked, perplexed by the limitations the broccoli had set on praying.
"Oh, no, dear, that would be impossible. There are so many of them. There just aren't enough hours in the day to do God's work. I really think God would rather hear from them Himself. And it's never too late to learn to pray, you know. Do you pray, Lauren?"
"Sure, every minute of the day!" Lauren exclaimed, in a defiant tone she thought she might have lost because of the green drink.
"You sound angry. You must pray with love in your heart, Lauren, or God will turn a deaf ear to your words. He only wants to hear good news. You may go to bed now. We'll talk more tomorrow about your manner of praying. Or better yet, ask Josh or Doreen. They are model prayers."
"Do you pray for fat people, the crippled, the hungry?" Lauren said, walking away.
"Did you say something, dear?" the broccoli head asked, and returned to her book on prayers for mollusks and chitons.
Lauren didn't answer and closed the door to Doreen's room.
Alone in the dark, Lauren heard the Other lying next to her say, 'You did well in there!' But Lauren was angry, for not having spoken her mind. She, too, had principles. She, too, had a voice in this world, and she wanted to be heard.
'And what would your words have done, Lauren? Can you change a broccoli into a dove or an egg plant for that matter?'
'You always give in. Why? When you give in to tyrants, you are as bad as they are. I will not give in!'
'She has her principles and prayers and nothing will change that. She's too old and rooted to the earth. People don't matter to her because she considers them greedy, selfish, and destructive to the planet she thinks she owns. She would rather they starve to death so that elephants have a better chance at survival!'
'Why can't she pray for both?'
'You can!'
'I don't want to pray. Besides, it's such useless bullshit. Leave me alone. I wanna sleep. And don't sneak into my dreams. I'm sick of you screwing with my head!'
The Other withdrew and left Lauren alone with her thoughts. She fell asleep.