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| Subject: Population Control | |
Author: tcn | [ Next Thread |
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] Date Posted: 21:25:05 10/06/07 Sat Population Control Tommy Alvarez plays in a vacant lot near his home among used syringes, smashed beer bottles, and tire shreds. His older bother Alex sits in a corner rocking back and forth repeating the same sentence. "My favorite sweater don't fit no more." A few blocks away their mother, Mattie Alvarez sits on the porch steps of her rooming house stunned into paralysis. From the moment she learned that Alex was autistic all life and hope left her soul. Here was a child who only twelve years earlier held the promise of a stellar future. But intuitively she knew that something wasn't quite right with him. His energy was all wrong, too quiet and complacent, too withdrawn. Relatives would say that he was just bright and independent even when he was eighteen months old and still had not spoken a word. By the age of two the relatives started to become scarce when Alex was still not talking. Professionals took the 'wait and see' stance until the age of three when a specialist at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital finally diagnosed him. "Still sitting out here, I see. I made breakfast." A loud gruff voice bellows out from behind her. "Leave me alone, Cherokee." She says. Cherokee is an ex CIA agent, or so he says, with a dire fatalistic attitude about government and country. "You still thinking about the boy, ain't you? How many times do I have to tell you that what ails Alex ain't your fault. It's the government's fault. All part of their plan for population control. That Measles, Mumps and Rubella Vaccine is what made him sick with autism. There are cases after cases of children coming down sick from that MMR Vaccine!" He says. Mattie curls into a fetal position. Cherokee takes her by the waist and gently helps her up. "Once you get your feet firmly back on the ground you'll warm up to it." Cherokee whispers into her ear as they retire back inside the house. The mahogany table holds a nice variety of breakfast food. Concha Ramirez, a Santera who earns a living exploiting the sensibilities of the vulnerable has her tarot cards laid out in front of her place at the table. "Put those witch cards away. You don't need to be inviting no evil into this house and evil only need an invitation in!" Cherokee says. "The cards speak." She replies. Cherokee pulls out a chair for Mattie. "Too bad you speak. We should send you back to that dentist you hustled so he can give you another shot of Novocain!" Cherokee says as he serves Mattie her breakfast. The clock on the tea cart shows 11:00 A.M. when Julio Sanchez enters the dining room. "Today's my day off and breakfast looks good." He says. Julio Sanchez is a sergeant at the 41st precinct. South Bronx Division. "When is that community board meeting taking place?" Cherokee asks as he serves Julio up a nice plate of huevos rancheros. "Unfortunately tomorrow." Julio replies. "Unfortunately?" Mattie asks. "Yes. We've had a rash of crimes coming from transient gangs with ties to the Crypts and the Bloods in LA. Unfortunately that is all we know at this point. Are you ok, Mattie? You've hardly touched your food." Julio says. "The cards say love will follow you through the bare autumn trees, Mattie." Concha interjects. "The only thing those cards reveal is how to steal people's hard earned money!" Cherokee says. "Thank you for the reading, Concha, but love doesn't follow the suffering. And I'm fine, Julio." Mattie answers with a half smile. "Maybe those who suffer do so because they naturally fall out of love, Mattie." Julio says. A bright light gleams from the bay window where rose vines have embedded themselves on the sides of the brick home. "Amen!" Cherokee concludes. The clock has struck the hour of noon, the hour of the Angelus. Back at the vacant lot, Alex stares at his reflection in a broken mirror that lays at his feet, an interesting display of bits and pieces mix together. "Lets go home Alex, I'm tired." Tommy says just as Tony Smithe makes his way into the lot, Sanyo keyboard under his arm wrapped securely in a black vinyl case. Tony addresses Alex ignoring Tommy. "Yo peanut brain!" Alex starts to rock back and forth. "Obie Thrice, you look like Obie Thrice." Alex repeats. "It's Obie Trice, you retard!" Tony responds. Just as Tommy starts to lunge at Tony, a black sedan pulls up along side them; the driver jerks the wheel of the vehicle from side to side. A passenger from inside the car screams out. "Say your prayers motherfuckers!" Tommy regains his composure just as several pops are heard. He throws his body on top of Alex and they both hit the ground hard. The car speeds into oblivion through a vast sea of lanes rising and falling over the curving highway up ahead. Tony is dead. One more soul who only seventeen years earlier held the promise of a stellar future. Tommy helps his brother up. "Are you hurt, bro?" Alex repeats, "Obie Thrice, Obie Thrice." "He didn't make it, Alex." Tommy says. Alex walks over to Tony's vinyl case that holds the Sanyo keyboard and picks it up. In the distance police sirens are heard as the boys run home. "Where have you two been? Breakfast is now lunch and its cold and I ain't reheating any of it!" Cherokee says. "We lost track of time." Tommy answers. "Where is Alex?" Mattie asks. Suddenly, the sound of beautiful music is heard from the next room. Alex plays an intricate, classical melody on the keyboard. He is improvising. The crowd gathers lovingly around him. "When did he learn to do that?" Concha asks. "I don't know. I don't even know where he got that keyboard." Mattie answers. "What a miracle! Let me hear it again." Julio says to Alex. Rain begins to beat against the windowpanes while the symphony of sweet notes showers everyone with the unexpected. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |
| [> Subject: Re: Population Control | |
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Author: andy spaschak [ Edit | View ] |
Date Posted: 10:19:46 10/08/07 Mon The mark of a gifted writer is reader captivation. No matter what you pour I sip it from beginning to end. Love this! andy [ Post a Reply to This Message ] |
| [> Subject: Re: Population Control | |
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Author: Sasha [ Edit | View ] |
Date Posted: 22:41:13 10/20/07 Sat Quote: ~ **clapping** you are amazing, Theresa! and that MMR Vaccine has come under scrutiny over here too.. interestingly, my own son's behavioral disorders showed themselves after the MMR vaccine...it definitely gives one food for thought loved this piece, hon...you have such a gift... Blessed Be, your pen *kiwi hugs* Sash xx [ Post a Reply to This Message ] |
| [> Subject: Re: Population Control | |
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Author: Always Lisa [ Edit | View ] |
Date Posted: 06:32:25 11/07/07 Wed I've thought about this story for a few days now and I'm still out on what I think of it. Perhaps I should say that my feelings are extremely mixed. I also wonder if the author of this knows, or has someone in the family with autism? Lisa [ Post a Reply to This Message ] |
| [> Subject: Re: Population Control | |
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Author: thesongman [ Edit | View ] |
Date Posted: 15:00:43 11/28/07 Wed TCN so nice to read your words again. Autism may be a gift in this case. Wonderfully done, Bill [ Post a Reply to This Message ] |
| [> Subject: Re: Population Control | |
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Author: kristen. [ Edit | View ] |
Date Posted: 18:59:08 01/07/08 Mon totally enraptured by the story here TCN. it was a treat to read, from the opening to the close. [ Post a Reply to This Message ] |
| [> Subject: Re: Population Control | |
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Author: Bagger Vance [ Edit | View ] |
Date Posted: 10:17:46 01/18/08 Fri aye... same with him, he drove by, he read, he liked :o) [ Post a Reply to This Message ] |