My mom grew up in a VERY small town in California. Maybe not very small since they have two stoplights now and a Target only 30 miles away.
Mom had two best friends in high school but like a lot of friendships the three of them drifted apart. 50 years later they connected on facebook. Cheryl, like Mom, escaped the small town. Mary stayed. Like a lot of small towns, this town is backwards and poisonus. There’s not a lot of open mind thinking going on there. Mary spent many years dreaming big but never going through with anything. She’s spent most of her mind on drugs. I’m talking about drug-induced brain burn out. The last time Mom went for a visit Mary repeatedl warn her and others to be careful while walking in the woods because there had been a lot of big foot sightings.
And she was serious.
A few weeks ago Mary was worried about her son Jack because he hurt his hand when he fell into a cannibal’s trap.
You heard me.
According to Mary there’sa whole thriving group of cannibals living by the dumpster at Safeway. I don’t know which should shock me more: the cannibals themselves or that they’re sophisticated enough to set traps. What’re we talking about, bear trap? Squirrel trap? Hipster trap? I’m betting the traps were made from rusty soup can lids. And if there are canniblas behind the Safeway why doesn’t the town do something about it? Drop off some care packages with expired baby food with a side of botulism peaches? What do the cannibals do during the day? hide out in the dumpster itself or head over to the Wal-Mart dumpster for more variety? But once night falls they migrate back to the Safeway dumpster where they feel most at home.
It’s actually not the first story of cannibalism from this small town. Two best friends decided to do mushrooms together. Long and complicated story short one of them went cuckoo crazy-pants, killed his best friend by gouging out his eyes, cutting out his tongue and trying to pull out his heart. See? This California town is so small that the only entertainment is drugs, underage sex, and cannibalism. I feel downright decadent living in a time where when I want to escape I read a book. And I’m afraid of doing drugs because I’d be that one weirdo who takes ecstacy and dives into the ocean assuming everyone knows I can breathe under water.
Mary, now in her mid 60s, her brain all cotton candy from the pot she still smokes daily (her son grows a couple of crops…this is a timy town not too far from Humboldt) insists that she’s seen countless UFOs. For some reason I’m more inclined to believe her alien sightings than a tribe of cannibals squatting behind the Safeway dumpster.
Okay, I’m a little ashamed to admit it but a big part of me wants to go see these mythical cannibals. Maybe I could bring them clothes, t-shirts that say “I Love Babies…I just Can’t Eat a Whole One By Myself” or “Mom and Dad Went to Fresno and All I Got Was This Shirt and a Half Eaten Kidney.”
I googled cannibalism earlier in the day. Dear God Baby Jesus: do not google cannibalism unless you have ten hours to read everything about it from caveman cannibalism to eating people as a form of art.