Black Beans & Vice

by J. B. Stanley

  Recalling the words, “Professor Puff Sucks!” written across his windshield as though it were yesterday, James muttered something unintelligible.

  “Unfortunately, Eliot was expecting his Big Backyards magazine and so he ended up opening the mailbox,” Jane continued. “The bird was way in the back, but when he pulled out the magazine and the usual stack of junk mail, the body fell right on his chest. I’ve never heard such a scream.”

  James shook his head in dismay. “Poor little guy. That would have spooked most adults.”

  “I know, but after Fay Sunray’s comments about animals, whatever they were, I think Eliot now has this illogical fear that they’ll come after him if he eats them.” She made a growling noise. “You know, if I had a backstage pass to the next Fay Sunray Show I’d choke her with her own guitar strings. Child entertainers should leave their personal platforms out of their performances. I don’t care how noble the cause!”

  The parents discussed their son’s meal selections for the weekend and then said their goodbyes. James stuck the sheaf of job applications into a folder, dropped it into his desk drawer, and sighed.

  Change is never easy, he thought.

  That night, he had his own frightening dream about birds. These were not robins, like the stiff red and blue body Eliot pulled from the mailbox, but black crows with malicious eyes and sharp, hooked beaks. Gathered on a leafless tree at the far end of the front yard, they suddenly flew at him en masse, forming an ominous cloud of shadows and feathers. Their caws grew louder and more aggressive as they raced toward him through the purple night sky. James’ dream self darted inside his house and slammed the front door. Terrified, he scuttled down the hallway to his bedroom, hoping to draw the curtains before the crows could reach his window, but just as his fingers closed on the cotton drapes, the impact of a dozen beaks smashing into the glass made him cry out in terror.

  James bolted awake in his bed, his heart drumming in his chest. He glanced nervously at the window, but exhaled in relief as he realized the rapping on the glass was merely raindrops and not a murder of hostile crows.

  The spring storm persisted for most of Friday, but by Saturday morning, the sun was bathing the Shenandoah Valley in warmth. The flowers James had planted the week before had produced new buds and were inviting the attentions of honeybees, monarch butterflies, and hummingbirds. Squirrels chattered at him from their nests in the dogwood tree while he swept the front walk and raked stray leaves and pine needles from the lush grass.

  After his outdoor chores were done, James took a shower and settled in front of the computer with a large glass of iced tea. He went to YouTube’s homepage and searched for Fay Sunray, clicked on one of her videos entitled, “We Love Our Earth,” and sat back to watch. Fay had golden hair styled in pigtail braids and large, bright blue eyes. She was in her late twenties, but sang with a very high and girlish voice. She wore a navy dress covered with sunflower designs and a pair of green galoshes. As she sang about recycling and water conservation, a group of flower puppets with smiling faces provided background vocals.

  “Nothing offensive there,” James mused. “She seems pretty and sweet. The little boys probably all have crushes on her.” He scrolled farther down the page. “I’ve got to find a link to that Nashville show.”

  James sat through several videos but heard nothing untoward in the verses or in the silly knock-knock jokes her sidekick, Dew Drop, liked to tell.

  Finally, he clicked on a video for the song, “Animals Are Our Friends (Nashville Version)” and listened closely as people dressed in a variety of farm animal costumes sang along with Fay. The song was clearly one of the children’s favorites and whenever the entertainer pointed the microphone at the audience, the kids shouted the appropriate animal noises at the top of their lungs. As another chorus reached a crescendo, the flower puppets James had seen on previous clips of Fay’s television show popped up on stage.

  “This has got to be the finale,” James tapped the mouse impatiently. He preferred shows like Sesame Street or Mr. Rogers and wished Eliot could watch old episodes of Captain Kangaroo or the Muppet Show instead of the bizarre contemporary cartoons he enjoyed. Fay Sunray was certainly a welcome throwback to the good old days of television, especially when compared to shows like SpongeBob or the Backyardigans.

  As James waited, the computer screen filled with blinking lights. Rainbow-hued confetti came raining down on the Nashville stage. The animals and flowers bowed and most of them waved and wiggled off the stage to a roar of applause. However, the actors dressed in the cow, chicken, and pig costumes remained. Fay carefully laid her guitar on her stool and put an arm around the cow and the pig. The chicken snuggled up to her legs and gazed up at her with adoration.

  “And remember boys and girls,” she spoke melodically into her headset microphone. “Animals are our friends. We need to protect them. That’s why I don’t eat meat, because I don’t EAT my friends! I am proud to be a ve-ge-ta-ri-an.” Fay sang the word as she squeezed the cow, who hugged her fiercely in return as the pig nodded in agreement. “Good night, children! Thank you for coming and remember to be kind to our planet! It’s the only one we have!”

  The video clip ended and James shook his head in disgust. “‘I don’t eat my friends!’ What kind of thing is that to say to a bunch of little kids? No wonder Eliot was influenced by this woman. He probably idolizes her and would never want to disappoint her.”

  For the most part, James agreed with Fay’s pro-environmental messages, even though he was certain that kids between three and six-years-old had no idea what she meant by “eco-friendly measures.” He’d have no issue with the pretty entertainer had she stuck to her usual montage, but he was aggrieved by how she chose to close her Nashville show and was sorely tempted to write her a letter.

  He’d just begun composing an opening line in his mind when Jane and Eliot arrived.

  “We had chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast! At my favorite truck stop!” Eliot shouted as he launched himself into his father’s open arms. “With a strawberry mouth and bananas for eyes. And guess what the nose was?”

  James scrunched up his face and pretended to be giving the matter serious consideration. “A grape?” he guessed.

  “Nope!” Eliot shouted, delighted to have stumped an adult. “A cherry! Like the kind they put in Shirley Temples.”

  “Your mom is awfully good to you, buddy.” James winked at Jane over Eliot’s head. “Do you think you’ll be hungry enough for lunch at the food festival?”

  Eliot nodded. “Will there be cotton candy?”

  Jane ruffled Eliot’s hair. “Not for you, young man. You had plenty of sugar at breakfast. I’m sure there’ll be some delicious, healthy foods for you to eat at the fair.” She took James by the arm. “I only had a bowl of oatmeal, so let’s head downtown. We could walk around for a bit and then grab some lunch. I could eat a hor—” she stopped herself just in time. “A humongous sandwich!”

  The three of them climbed into the Bronco and drove south into town. James told Jane about the lack of suitable candidates for the part-time library position while she shared her concern about the sense of entitlement her students had begun to express during the final marking period. The former spouses reminisced on how work ethics and family values were the norms of their childhoods while Eliot amused himself by counting all the red cars he could spot.

  As they approached the pink and purple cottages of the Wellness Village, James could see that the food festival had already drawn a huge crowd.

  “I don’t think we’re going to find a parking space close by,” James informed Jane. “We’ll find a spot behind the ABC Store. Danny won’t mind, especially if I pick up some Cutty Sark for my father before we leave.”

  James wasn’t the only one with that idea. A mix of pickup trucks and hybrid sedans filled up most of the lot. After running into the liquor store to make a purchase and have a quick chat with Danny Leary, the proprietor, James lifted Eliot onto his shoulders,
cherishing the burden of his son’s weight. Jane took a picture of the pair with her cell phone camera and then the threesome jogged across the street.

  The courtyard of the Wellness Village was covered by a large tent. Enticing aromas drifted into the parking lot where vendors had set up tables in order to distribute information on their health-conscious businesses or to sell wares such as reusable shopping bags, beaded jewelry, yoga equipment, or inspirational CDs. Skye waved at him from the Better State of Mind table and then focused her attention on putting a brochure into the hands of an interested passerby.

  In the cool shade of the tent, James and Jane scrutinized the menus of the food vendors and debated what to select for lunch.

  “All the food here is good for vegetarians,” Jane told Eliot. “How does a chickpea burger and sliced peaches sound?”

  Eliot curled his lip a little. “A pea burger? That’s gonna taste funny.”

  James couldn’t have said it better himself, but decided that Eliot needed to know that he couldn’t subsist on French fries, pasta, and pizza as a non meat eater. “Son, being a vegetarian usually means eating lots of fruits and vegetables.”

  “I know,” Eliot answered solemnly. “Are you going to get one, Daddy?”

  Stepping closer to the sizzling patties, James thought they smelled quite good. “Yes, I am. We’ll take three chickpea burgers,” he informed the vendor.

  “With cheese?” the man asked.

  “Yes, please,” James answered as Jane took Eliot to the next booth to order fruit smoothies made from locally grown produce.

  The family found a free picnic table and James made several trips back and forth to the condiment counter in order to collect packets of ketchup, mustard, relish, and salt. After grabbing a few napkins and three straws, he picked up his chickpea burger and took a large bite, knowing Eliot was watching closely for an adverse reaction. But the burger was very tasty.

  “Yum!” James declared honestly. “Go ahead, buddy. You’ll like it.”

  Eliot took a tentative nibble. He chewed several times and then reached into his mouth with his thumb and index finger and pulled something out. “What’s this?” he inquired.

  “Eliot, don’t take food out of your mouth,” Jane reprimanded and then peered at the object on his plate. “That’s a piece of tomato.”

  “Oh.” Eliot examined the interior of his burger. “There’s corn in here too.” He squirted on another dollop of ketchup. “Doesn’t taste like McDonald’s, but it’s okay.”

  The three of them ate their lunches and watched the thickening crowd. James noticed Roslyn Rhodes working her way through a knot of people. She looked utterly frazzled. Her long hair was tangled, her face was shining with perspiration, and her eyes darted around wildly.

  “That’s the woman who came to the library with the event posters,” James told Jane.

  Jane followed his gaze. “She looks a little freaked out.”

  In a few minutes, the reason behind her anxiety became clear. A group of grim-faced farmers barreled past, clearly following in Roslyn’s wake. Concerned that Roslyn might need assistance, James darted after them.

  Just outside the tent, James found Roslyn, Harmony, Skye, and two men standing on one side of a folding table while five farmers shouted at them from the other side.

  “We’re locals too!” one of them hollered with a clenched fist. “You only kept us out because we’re livestock farmers!”

  A second one slammed his hand on the table. “Your fruit-loopy friends are gonna make us lose business! It’s bad enough you didn’t invite us to this damned fair, but now you’re tryin’ to ruin our livelihood too!”

  Roslyn held out her hands in supplication. “I did not invite those demonstrators and I do not have the authority to make them leave! They’re on public property.”

  The man standing next to Harmony put his arm around her in a protective gesture. James assumed he was her husband. “Gentlemen, the Wellness Village merchants decided to promote vegan and vegetarian lifestyles during this festival. It was their prerogative to make that call. No one involved with the Village is speaking against your farms, so please stop yelling at us.”

  The young man next to Skye who wore a tie-dye Grateful Dead shirt, frayed denim shorts, and an armful of beaded hemp bracelets, flicked a sandy-colored dreadlock off his shoulder. “Yeah. Chill out, dudes,” he added.

  Skye smiled at him and took his hand.

  Temporarily derailed, one of the farmers glanced around as though in search of support from members of the public. He called out someone’s name and a man in a purple polo shirt and tan chinos halted mid-stride and turned to face them. James recognized him. He was Ned Woodman, one of the town councilmen.

  Seeing the standoff in progress, Ned pivoted away as though he hadn’t heard his name shouted above the din of festival goers. More enraged than ever, the farmers darted after him and before James could offer his assistance to either group, the situation had been diffused. At least for the moment, he thought.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, stepping up to the table.

  Roslyn sank into a metal chair, wrapping her long hair around her hand as though her locks could offer her protection. “For now, but I’m afraid those men are too upset to behave rationally. The picketers out front … well, they really taunted those men.”

  James didn’t like the sound of that. “Who are they? Animal rights demonstrators?”

  Harmony nodded. “Yes. They often congregate at fairs like ours, as they are able to recruit volunteers and solicit donations from a receptive public. But it’s a shame the day couldn’t have been more peaceful.” To change the subject, she introduced her husband Mike, and pointed at the young man standing next to Skye. “And this is Skye’s boyfriend, Lennon Snyder. He’s in charge of the maintenance here at the Village.”

  James shook hands with the men and then focused on Roslyn once again. “I’m going to give my friend Lucy a call. She’s a sheriff’s deputy and will know how to restore peace and order.”

  Roslyn and Harmony readily agreed to the suggestion and James went off to find a quiet corner behind a budding Crepe Myrtle tree. He dialed Lucy’s number and was relieved when she answered on the first ring.

  “I’m on my way!” she exclaimed when he’d finished relaying his concerns. “I’ve got Lindy with me so I’m not in uniform. We’d planned on a girls’ day out, but I’ve got my badge and my gun, so I’ll handle the situation, James. Just hold the fort until I get there.”

  Returning to the picnic table where Jane and Eliot waited, James hastily told his ex-wife what was going on.

  “We didn’t see any protestors on the way in,” she stated, perplexed.

  James put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “They’re here now. I think you two should stay put until I check things out.”

  Perfectly composed, Jane nodded. “No problem. We’ll work on the ‘Healthy Kids’ activity book the smoothie lady gave us.”

  Thankful for her composure, James marched toward the entrance. The closer he got to the map of the Wellness Village, the more the sounds of loud chanting assaulted his ears. When the protestors came into view, James was unsurprised to find Gillian among them. She was busily writing a check while Bennett shifted uncomfortably beside her.

  James took a brief glance at the posters being brandished by the picketers. They read, “Meat Is Murder,” “Be Human, Not Inhumane,” “Help Animals. Don’t Be One,” and “Live and Let Live.”

  “ANIMALS HAVE SOULS TOO!” A young woman screamed, her face red with exertion. “DOMINION DOES NOT MEAN DOMINATION!” She pointed a finger at an old man trying to scuttle past her toward the parking lot.

  None of the other demonstrators seemed to possess this woman’s fervor. With brown, spiky hair, and ears pierced by rows of silver hoops in ascending sizes, she appeared to be the group’s leader. James took in her shapeless beige dress and gaunt arms and then his eyes were drawn from her person to her poster. It portrayed a headless c
hicken spouting blood from its neck as it ran around in an aimless, pathetic circle.

  James felt anger rise within him. “That’s a bit graphic for little kids to look at, don’t you think?” he asked the woman when she paused to draw in a fresh breath.

  Her dark eyes crackled with intensity. “And what about the graphic murders humans commit every second? Of helpless animals! It happens right here in Shenandoah County!”

  Before James could reply, a cluster of teenage boys materialized in front of the protestors. They carried takeout bags from Dolly’s Diner and wore smug grins. Sitting on the ground, they unwrapped bacon double cheeseburgers with deliberate slowness, waved the food around, and shouted, “Carnivores Rock! Carnivores Rock!” before sinking their teeth into the thick burgers.

  Spurred by the teenagers, other members of the community now felt free to trade insults with the protestors. Both sides were egged on by the female leader and emotions were fraying. The young woman was undaunted. She got right in people’s faces, shouting and spitting as she described slaughterhouse practices in the most explicit terms. At one point, a pregnant woman who had paused to gawk suddenly dashed off, her hand on her swelled stomach. Concerned, James followed her and saw her doubled-over behind the bushes lining the parking lot. Afterward, she straightened, wiped her mouth with a tissue, and fled.

  Bennett, who had joined James as he moved to watch over the pregnant woman, shook his head. “Hope she’s all right.”

  “Where is Lucy?” James looked around for his friend’s Jeep.

  “I don’t know, but she needs to fire a gun in the air when she gets here.” Bennett looked miserable. “Gillian used to be one of these people. Man, I know where they’re comin’ from, but this is not the way to change things. And how am I going to get Gillian outta here before folks start throwin’ punches?”

  James didn’t have an answer. Gillian was as passionate about animal rights as the rest of the demonstrators, but she preferred to champion the cause in a more behind-the-scenes manner.