The effluvium of Mortality

I picked up the last lemon half and placed it upon the ailing orange juicer grandma had given me. It was an old and a quite demanding juicer; my right hands’s knuckles had become anchored due to the constant twists it took to extract the essence of the citrus. And it hurt. A lot. But I kept reminding myself of the reason that I was doing this and the feeling of discomfort from the cramps instantly withered away. I looked at the mountain of pulp less halves at the tin below the lemonade stand. “This is for Luna. That poor desolated sombre little grizzly bear in Wyoming. You are really potentially saving endangered species like Luna with this fundraiser!”I kept thinking to myself. 

This realization buoyed up my mood as though it was an anchored balloon.. but simultaneously the reminder of Luna popped that ballon as if it was a rivet. Ill never get off my head the image of her solitary being at my trip to Wyoming. Without family. Stripped from her kind. And all for the enjoyment, some men with harsh jaws and weatherbeaten hearts found in frivolous killing.

The bazaar was extremely crowded. Cheerful laughter and meaningless chatter vitally traversed the usually isolated road of east Athens and paid visits to every single stand.Even to the cruelest of ones; those that proudly sold the dead skins of our fellow beings, made into feathery hats or shiny leather boots; Those that proudly sold off someone’s mother or father, as if it was a mere momentary fashion trend; Those that were partly responsible for that heart-twitching pair of hurting eyes Luna perpetually accommodated on her face. The fact that my stand was adjusted right across a such stand was pretty ironic. Making a case for saving animals from extintion was extremely hard on its own. Let alone besides salesmen and women, holding and flopping around dead lackluster animals in the air in an effort to sell them. I shook away my momentary discomfort.  It was nothing compared to those whose case I tried to convey.

Plus my stand had been doing quite well! The fervent and unbearably hot sun of Greece in summer time ensured that, being that I was selling fresh and icy lemonades. And the good mood of the attendants surely helped too. Outside of the realm of their daily grievances, at the peak of their furlough; People were eagerer than ever to contribute to the well being of our fragile world. 

Everything was going smooth until that stout harsh looking man happen to be passing in front of my bench and decided to halt his journey. He was wearing a clean apron and carrying two plastic bags glutted with dead fish. The logical trajectories was that he either was a madman; or he was a fisherman that would just begin his shift at the bazaar. After some thought I went with the second assumption. He knitted his bushy eyebrows while trying to read the sign that I had so laboriously hovered over the stand, and simultaneously took a sip of his bottled plastic water;  “Contribute to saving our furry friends stay alive by bying a fresh lemonade! Every dollar helps the national animals organization combat the problem of animal extinction”. Once he read the whole sentence chaffingly ,he exhaled and puffed his lips mockingly at me. In doing so his mouth spluttered some of the water he had just inserted in his mouth over some of those people standing  in line for my lemonade. They tried to dodge his flying saliva, but unsuccessfully so.

“ Foolish little girl! You really think you’ll make a difference any difference with this! It seems you don’t understand true human nature at all. You’d better waste the money you make on buying something for yourself. Perhaps on a Bischon Frize if you love animals that much!”. He gave a miscreant and harsh sounding laugh.

I felt a comb traverse up and down my spine. I opened my mouth to stand up for myself but spitting out an actual comb was more likely than getting a word out. I stood there feeling impotent and awkward. Nevertheless my heart boiled of anger; I felt furious. Furious because there were people that kept finding excuses for humanity’s supercilious behavior on earth. Blaming, always, the true human “nature” of selfishness for their stance on life. Never (ever), taking responsibility for their money-driven behavior or trylong to alter it. But always blaming capitalism for its cruelty upon humanity in the name of profit..

As soon as I got the courage to talk back, a 

shrill voice coming from the back emerged and interrupted my intention. A ladylike voice was ready and set to retort to the miscreant man. I felt ardor radiating from her figure. 

“How dare you mister talk that facetiously! Have you got no respect for the animals? The essence of our very nature? Here little girl, I’ll help!” Said she and I felt relieved to see the unscrupulous man going away and not continuing this little frenzy. And along with relief I felt pride. Pride because this word consisted also of selfless people; people that used a telescope to take a view over the whole world, and not only use a magnifying glass to see what’s on their plate for dinner. 

The woman’s countenance was mantled behind a swirl of people, and hence at first I only heard her voice. But soon she emerged from the crowd. A buxom red-cheeked lady. I tried to smile at her. Conversely she hardly looked me in the eyes. She seemed to prefer to curry favor with the stares riveted at her from around. She opened her somber leather bag ( oh what a bag!) and got a shiny dollar from inside her lavish crimson wallet. Then, she unfolded her enveloped-in-fur arm and handed me the single bill. She looked around once more, lest her belevolent behavior might not have been realized. It was. After making sure her irreproachable solo performance was over, she proceeded to spend the rest of her dollars on the feathery parlor across. Leaving me in pensive thought, with my blank stare riveted at her snakeskin shoes, while she withered away..