Sunday, April 4, 2010
The Perfect Human Being
A spring storm was expected Friday, and it did not disappoint, but then this is Oregon, and rain is part of the picture for 8 or 9 months every year. The way that it rains in the North West is different from the Mid West and East, in that it is a continual drizzle, that picks up momentum and explodes into torrential downpours for 30 minutes, followed by patchy sun breaks that produces beautiful rainbows daily. The entire late afternoon and early evening was filled with rainbows and 30 minute deluges, until the early evening, as cab drivers picked up passengers with their monthly shopping, at Walmart, Winco, Fred Meyers or Safeway, like they do every first part of the month.
At around 8:00 PM Friday night Driver #52, Trevor Nytzxryg got a call to Walmart on North Lancaster. When he got there, he saw a couple who looked to be in their 50’s, that he had driven a few other times. They had a disgusting odor, that permeated the cab, and even when riding with the windows down, after they got out, it was nearly impossible to get the smell out of your nostrils. They lived in the ramshackle trailer park on Highway, between Silverton and Portland Roads. The woman was homely looking of average weight and height, with wire rim glasses, shoulder length straight brown hair and enough hair on her chin to rival some men’s goatees. Her husband was thin and had a thick mustache, and sandy dishwater blonde, shaggy hair, under a baseball cap. She wore a smock dress and a jacket, while his apparel consisted of jeans, and a plaid shirt, with a blue jean jacket.
After #52 loaded their groceries in the back of his van, he affirmed that they were going to their home address, and called it in. On the way there the man asked Trevor if he was going to church on Easter, since it was this Sunday.
“I don’t go to church,” Trevor said, “but I understand the reason why many people do. It’s to contemplate the possibility of a perfect human being, an all giving, all caring shepherd who is the prototype of the perfect human being. This is a noble ideal for sentient beings to conceive, and I admire it. When I have time I will attend one of these services, even if it means losing sleep, since I usually don’t get to bed until nearly 6:00 AM, on Sunday.”
“You could go to a sunrise service, after you get off and before you went to bed,” the man said.
“What is a sunrise service?” Trevor asked.
“Well you see, Jesus resurrected from the grave at sunrise, on Easter Sunday morning 1977 years ago, so sometimes they have a service at dawn,” the man said, and continued, “back when I was in jail one Easter, we had a sunrise service and I helped the chaplain with all the preparations. I got up at 3:00 AM special to help him. The service began at 6:00 AM, and by the time that it was over, it was broad daylight. That’s after I gave my heart to Jesus. I was never really a bad person, like murdering somebody or stealing stuff that you don’t need, just to make money. I only stole things that I needed.”
About this time his wife broke in and told him in a calm even tone of voice, “I told you not to talk about that anymore.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot,” he said, and immediately changed the subject back to church. When I lived in Los Angeles, I used to go to church all the time, but the people up here don’t go to church that much.
All NUC scouts did soul scans, by either eye or skin contact. “The eyes and skin are windows to the soul,” as the great cipher Zynyg spoke in his span. Zynyg was also the one who determined the part that religion must play in the evolution of a planet. All civilizations began when sentience dawned with the first ones, what the Christian religion calls Adam and Eve. The myths that develop always take the same course, as a stabilizing element for a civilization as it is transformed into a sophisticated religion. That religion then develops an infrastructure that is a pecking order of power, culminating in the high priest, who eventually becomes or is replaced by a secular ruler. There is always a battle between the religious and the secular, it is a two edged sword, and that is what eventually makes or breaks the planet. When a planet becomes stage 1, the NUC’s monitoring system alerts the intelligence branch to send out a squad of observers and data collectors, of which Trevor was one.
When they arrived at the trailer park they drove into the back area, where the most dilapidated purple trailer was theirs. Driver #52 helped carry the groceries in and collected the $8.60 fare, and gave the woman her .40 change. The next fare Trevor picked up was a guy who came out of a house on Cottage Street downtown. He was going to his trailer in the RV Park by 45th, off Silverton Road. On the trip there he complained about how his girlfriend had a 250 lb pig for a pet, that she kept in the house, and slept next to her on her bed. The pig bit him 3 times he said, and that was why he was leaving. The last time it was his foot, and his teeth nearly went through the shoe.
“Have you ever seen a pigs teeth?” He asked. “They’re 2 inches long,” he said, as he spread his fingers to indicate the size. He was visibly upset and continued emotionally describing his ordeal with the pig, and threatening to bring his Mexican friends over, who would gladly slaughter the pig and have a Bar BQ. When Trevor dropped him off he gave him a $5.00 tip and apologized for telling him his troubles.
Around 2:00 AM, #52 picked up a couple at Bourbon Street, and drove them to the guys house in East Salem. On the way there, they wanted to stop at Taco Bell to get something to eat, so they did. Then on the way to the final destination, the female got sick and began to throw up. Trevor immediately pulled out a plastic shopping bag, that he kept in his pocket, and handed it to the guy, and told him that if she got any vomit in the cab, it was a $40.00 cleaning fee.
“Don’t worry, she won’t get any in the cab,” he said as he opened the bag and put it over her mouth, as she retched.
When Trevor pulled into the fare’s driveway, the guy was paying with a credit card, that he gave to him, as he told his girlfriend to go into the house. When she got out, there were clumps of regurgitation covering the seat where she sat. So the $22.40 fare was added to the $40.00 cleaning fee. Number 52 called out afterwards, got gas, and drove to the office, where he cleaned the cab interior and red tagged it, until the boss could inspect it, before it was cleared to be used again.