Men in Uniform

had to drag Dad down to the May Day event the other day. I knew if he didn’t go, he would regret his decision of last Thanksgiving when he said he would never “cover another of those crackpot events organized by Willie.” But I had heard through the grapevine that EcoSurvival Village was organizing some farmworkers to join the rally, and I knew this would be a real news story.  The size came as a complete surprise to me. I know that forty people isn’t so many, especially if you live in a larger town, but I doubt if there has been a rally of this magnitude here since The Great Depression, or earlier. A visitor from the city would probably see nothing unusual; a few impassioned, but tame, speeches; some interesting and creative signs; some big, colorful puppets of George Bush and the CEO of Malsanto. But I could…

My List

Guest Post by Shaherazade Budreau   I don’t understand how adults think. How could Faith Applegate say she loved her brother and think that he killed the only man she ever loved? And what kind of love is it if she never talked to him again?”  “Keep it down, Shaherazade,” Susie put a finger to her lips.  I didn’t see the point, but I didn’t say anything more until we got back here to Susie’s apartment. I repeated my questions and Susie said that blood ties are complicated and the passage of time confuses everything. That made no sense to me so when Susie sat down and started writing all that stuff you just read about how me and Mom and Susie and Faith met for lunch, I made a list of questions and speculations. Here’s my list of questions:  What happened to Charlie’s car? Where’s that rare saxophone that…

Naming the Worm

Miss Applegate,” Rita began and Faith held up one long bony hand stopping her.  “Rita, I know it’s a Southern mannerism, but I just can’t let you call me Miss Applegate. It makes me feel like a hundred year-old white matriarch surveying the plantation. Not a feeling I care to cultivate.”  Rita hesitated for only a moment. “Faith, at the risk of being rude,” a small smile played around her lips, “let’s just get right down to brass tacks. Who do you think killed my uncle Charlie?”  Shaherazade and I exchanged a quick look before we settled our eyes on Faith who didn’t seem at all offended. Just sad.  She ran that same bony hand across the waves of her white hair and looked off out the window as if the past could be found on the street outside. “I have a pretty good idea who it was. Proving it…

Lunch with the Ladies

here are only a couple of places in town to get lunch, if you don’t count The Germaine Cafe, which carries pre-packaged sandwiches and burritos. They’re not so bad, but it’s hardly the kind of place you gather a group of women for a private gab session. That leaves the Old Paiute Pub and Brewery and the stodgy Hotel Germaine, where one might run into Vanessa Van Bibber, or the prying ears of Thelma Louise McCoy. So, the only actual choice is the brew-pub. Shaherazade would be with us, of course, but minors are permitted during the daylight hours, and she would be with her mom.  The gathering was Shaherazade’s idea. She thought that getting her mother and Faith Chastity together might generate some clues, or at least help us fill in the story of Charles Sevigny LaFontaine. She also knew that Rita would appreciate the opportunity to talk to…