c. 2024 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(5-24)
Darcy Trelane’s change of heart about supporting protests by friends from Cuyahoga Community College left bad emotions behind. She had always been someone who was trusted and admired in the student body, and among graduates. But now, allies from groups of activists and artists began to question her loyalty. A lively debate ensued online, as her contacts sent memes that were edgy and vicious.
Harshest of all was Mama Molene Gant, a leader in the LGBT community across Cleveland. She had been known since the 1970’s as a godmother to disaffected men, women, and non-binary or genderqueer people. Her long, gray curls and hippie attire brightened any event. Yet now, she scolded her former prodigy like a schoolmaster. A window opened on the screen for a live chat as she reached out through cyberspace, from her apartment by Lake Erie.
“WHAT’S THE PROB, SISTA? COPS GOT YA TONGUE PINNED? I THINK LIVING OUT IN MAGA COUNTRY HAS CHANGED YER WAY OF THINKING!”
Miss Poindexter realized that her thick, black spectacles were fogged. She could barely read her computer monitor.
“Nah, c’mon now! I don’t deserve that, Mama! Nobody turned me into a house mouse! Jinkies, what a crazy thought! I’m nothing like any of the other women out here at Evergreen Estates! You’d never see me in a crop-top or a pair of Daisy Dukes!”
Molene cackled and shook her tangled mane like a dried-out mop head.
“THESE PROTESTS ARE A SPRINGBOARD! DON’T YA GET IT, GIRL? IT’S PALESTINE, THEN IT’S NORTH AFRICA, THEN EUROPE, THEN IT’S ALL THE WAY ACROSS AMERICA, COAST TO COAST! WE GOTTA FIGHT THA POWER, FO-SHO! YER GONNA BE WEARING A BONNET LIKE A HANDMAIDEN! MAYBE THAT’S THA GROOVE YA WANT, AMISH HONEY?”
Darcy straightened her Pokemon T-shirt which had ridden up, uncomfortably. The garment left her rounded belly half exposed.
“It’s complicated over there, I want to cry! But what are we doing putting up plywood walls and throwing trash at the police? There’s got to be a smarter plan, I’m all for hearing about peace and human rights! Shouldn’t we be talking about a revolution at the ballot box, instead of on campuses like ours?”
Her counterculture mentor squawked like a wounded goose.
“SISTA! GET YA MIND OFF THA TRUMP TRAIN, AND BACK WHERE IT BELONGS! I DON’T RECOGNIZE YER FACE ANYMORE! WHOO, DAMN! YA THINK ONE ELECTION’S GONNA MAKE CHANGE HAPPEN? IT’LL COME WHEN WE MARCH! IT’LL COME WHEN WE PUNCH SOME FASCISTS SQUARE IN THA MOUTH! IT’LL COME WHEN WE DEFEND OUR SCHOOLS AGAINST THA FOLKS HOLDING ALL THAT GOLD! BOO YAH!”
Her estranged pupil felt conflicted and confused.
“Yes... I mean no... I mean maybe... I don’t know what to say! This started out as a good idea. I like talking out issues and being civilized. The redneck nuts out here are creepy, though! They don’t talk much. Those hicks just shoot off their guns to make noise...”
Mama Molene hissed and seethed with rage.
“THAT’S WHY WE FIGHT, RIOT GIRL! WE FIGHT THA POWER!”
Darcy had been eating Greek yogurt from a cup. But suddenly, her appetite was gone.
“I like to fight when it’s gamer combat, you know? That kind of violence gets me juiced. But I’m not much good behind steel barricades. I mean, my arms get tired of tossing out frozen water bottles...”
The rebel leader shuddered with disappointment.
“NOT MUCH GOOD? YER A LOTTA GOOD, SISTA! TRUST ME! WELL, YA WERE UNTIL THIS THING GOT ALL SCREWY AT THE TRAILER PARK! PUTTING THE PALESTINE FLAG IN THA WINDOW WAS SUPPOSED TO BE AN ACT OF DEFIANCE! YA LOST YER NERVE! WHAT HAPPENED? WHAT TOOK AWAY THA COURAGE?”
Her submissive follower had to ponder before answering.
“It feels weird to say, but... I think the old drunk next door struck a nerve. He actually made sense, you know, Mama? That dude is a shaggy effer, all wrinkled and covered with age spots and scars... I listened to him, though. He sounded like my Polish grandpa. Someone I could trust. Maybe I needed a voice of reason?”
Molene shrieked with the force of a vulture swooping down on its dinner.
“NOOOO DAMMIT! NO! THERE’S NO REASON OUT THERE IN THA STICKS! THOSE PEOPLE ARE STRAIGHT-UP ASSHOLES! ALL CHURCHY AND MEAN AND GUN-HAPPY! SCREW THEM! DON’T TAKE A WORD THEY SAY SERIOUSLY! YA GONNA GET HOODWINKED, GIRL! LISTEN TO ME, I BEEN THERE FOR YA! I BEEN IN THE TRENCHES, FIGHTING THE PO-PO! I BEEN KNOCKED ON MY ASS BY A COP’S BATON! I BEEN IN JAIL WITH OTHER FREEDOM FIGHTERS!”
Darcy felt a chill run over her pale skin.
“Well, I don’t really want to land in jail, you know...”
Her role model exploded and began to smack the wall next to her laptop.
“YA DONE TURNED INTO A COWARD! I NEVER THOUGHT THA DAY WOULD COME! THIS REVOLUTION NEEDS SOLDIERS, HONEY! SOLDIERS ON THA FRONT LINES! FIGHTING TO FREE, FREE PALESTINE! DIVEST! SANCTION! CUT TIES WITH ENEMIES OF THA PEOPLE!”
Her loyalist had gone cold.
“Who’s an enemy? Who’s a friend? I don’t know anymore. People keep dying, little babies on both sides of the border fence. Mothers crying for their families. Fathers who have nothing left, no homes, no hope. Where’s the good in that, Mama? Does it matter to argue over guilt anymore? Over who started all this shit?”
The hippie icon clenched her bony fists and shook uncontrollably.
“THAT’S IT, WOMAN, YA DID IT NOW! I’M KICKING YER PLUMP BUTT OUT OF OUR TRIBE! YA SOLD OUT TO THA MAN! GO GET YERSELF A MAGA COWBOY! THAT’S WHERE YA BELONG, RIDING SHOTGUN IN A 4X4 PICKUP TRUCK! HOO, I NEVER THOUGHT IT’D HAPPEN! I THOUGHT YA WERE A REAL-DEAL LESBIAN TIGRESS! A HUNTER ON THA PROWL! BUT IT’S OVER NOW, ALL OVER. YA DONE CAVED TO THA TRUMPIES WITH THEIR BIBLES AND SNAKE FLAGS! SAY GOODBYE TO THE FRIENDS YA DUMPED, SISTA! WE’LL ALL BE THERE WITH OUR HELMETS AND GAS MASKS AND OUR FISTS HELD HIGH! WE AIN’T GIVING UP THE STRUGGLE! THIS IS A FIGHT TO THE END! OUR VOICES WILL BE HEARD! INTIFADA FOREVER!”
Darcy wanted to vomit. She clicked out of the online conversation and slumped in her roller chair. The empty yogurt container fell onto her floor, and rolled into a corner.
“I’m an orphan now. All I’ve got left is that cranky alcoholic next door! How the hell did this happen?”
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