H
e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s
b e r g
N
a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i
v e s E d i t i o n
MARC OLMSTED
Good Sign
Beth
cut hair out of her Mission St. apartment. She was a big girl, tattooed, jet black hair
and red lipstick in Goth nod, and
she was married to Gomez, a butcher from Mexico, who
for some reason didn’t have a
green card, probably because they never could make any
deadline or appointment that would give
it to him.
Problem
was, Gomez was abusive. For 9
years he’d punched her for just about anything
he could think of. The bruises rarely if ever showed. None of Beth’s friends or hairstyle
clients knew anything about it.
Gomez
got a role in a local indie movie and this made him think he was a star. He didn’t
want Beth to go the local premiere
but she thought he was kidding.
Gomez really did
want to go alone (she later thought
because he didn’t want to share the spotlight, but I
suspect he was looking for some new
trim, no pun intended).
Well,
she went anyway and when they came home and walked in the door he turned and
punched her twice in the eye and took
this campy Jesus statue they had and broke it on
her body. He hit her so hard in the eye she
thought she’d gone blind. She did,
for a bit.
She
called the police as she’d done before.
When
she went downstairs from the 3rd floor to let them in the gate,
there was something
about their vibe that made her
pause. They didn’t like that. There were way
more cops
than she ever anticipated, at least
2 squad cars with flashing lights and some more cops on
foot. She was right about their vibe. When she opened the gate, they cuffed her and led
her away. She was barefoot and wasn’t wearing a
bra under her t-shirt. She wasn’t
ready
to go out into the night. She didn’t even get to lock her
apartment door. She’d also had
too much to drink.
Gomez
came back while they were taking Beth away and walked right into them. He had
decided to use the “What’s this,
officer?” approach and act like nothing had happened.
They
took him away too.
Beth
actually knew some of these cops, because they were local. That didn’t do any
good now. She was chained to a wall for 10 hours without water. It was very cold.
They
gave her some old dirty socks for her feet. No blanket, though. Beth said the female
cops were the worst.
Eventually
they put her in with the recently captured crack whores. One was a white girl
with dreads, but claimed to be a
skinhead affiliate. Beth asked
about the dreads, since the
white girl, a runaway who
voraciously read, was spouting all sorts of Neo-Nazi rhetoric
and Beth wondered why she’d picked
the dreadlocks if she hated blacks so much. The
reason was utilitarian. Still, the neo-Nazi girl knew that some
of the black women,
trustees who’d been in a while and were
allowed to roam relatively free in exchange for
cleaning the place, would find the shit
she’d pinched off in the shower.
They did, and
they thought it was Beth at
first. Beth’s bad day looked like
it was about to get worse,
but fortunately they figured out
that Neo-Nazi girl did it. No
witness as to what
happened to her sorry Nazi ass.
Monday
finally rolled around, and after being seen in cuffs by some of her own hairstyle
clients who worked the local precinct,
they let her go now two days later and all charges
were dropped. Not before the girl cop moved her for
processing, though, putting the
cuffs on Beth’s wrists so tight that
her hands turned blue.
Beth
went home on the morning bus. She
had a little orange band on her wrist from jail.
It
meant a free bus ride. Whoo-whoo!
They also gave these oversized flip flops for
her
bare feet. It was a long walk to the bus
stop. She hung her head on the bus
and vibed
“Please
don’t look at me.”
When
she got home, the apartment door was still open. She discovered that clients had
come for their appointments and
found this weirdness. They never
returned, despite her
explanations. Some people.
Gomez
was sent to Arizona for deportation to Mexico. He was there for 2 months
before he agreed to voluntarily go
back across the border. Otherwise,
he might very well
still be there.
It
was of course a very good thing for Beth, who once away from him without any
possibility of getting him back in
the country, experienced enormous relief, though she
hated to be alone. She fixed that pretty quick, but at
least the new guy, also Latin, didn’t
hit.
The
local cops still said hello like nothing had happened.
She
got a banishing candle from the local botanica. When she burnt it, she saw a black
shape like a medium sized dog with a
blanket over it scoot out of the closet and go out the
door. Good sign.
[Originally
published in NHS 2008, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs08/Marc_Olmsted.htm.]