Frank Klus - Azaleas Don't Bloom Here

Dennis and Eugene were childhood friends, but Eugene hadn’t seen him since he moved away from Countryside.

“Hey, speeder, how’s it going?”

Eugene climbed out of his Lexus and extended a hand. “Dennis O’Reilly. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I hope I’m not in too much trouble. I was just trying to make it out of the city before curfew.”

“Nah. We’re buddies. I don’t think you would have made it anyway, Genie, my man. You see, most of the squads sit at the entrance ramps of the interstate. Even if the sun is still up they’d still stop and ticket you. They’ll just say you’d still be in their territory after curfew.”

“What’s curfew for anyway?”

“Keeps crime down. Just between us, it also boosts revenue for the Squad. Everyone’s out in full force near dusk, trying to catch somebody on their way home from work.”

“So how come you aren’t monitoring the ramps?”

“I was looking after you, Genie.”

“Me?”

“That’s a little hard to explain,” Dennis said. “I tell you what, why don’t you come over to my house Saturday afternoon for a barbeque, say about twelve?”

Dennis gave him his business card. He lived on the south side of Old Chicago. Dennis sensed his friend’s fear.

“Don’t worry, my man. I live in one of the better neighborhoods, and I’ll make sure you get home safely.”

“Okay.”

“Great! Now we’ll give you an escort to the 294, before the bad weather hits.” Eugene looked at the sky. A thunderhead rolled above; a storm was coming.

Home was West Chicago. The affluent built a walled community about twenty years ago because blight was attacking the old district. Catherine was in the study working on some papers for the school she taught in.

“Hi, hon,” he said, as he reached down and kissed her.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said as she kissed him back. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Guess who I met on the way home?” Eugene explained all that happened, but he noticed that Catherine’s cheerful countenance turned sour upon hearing Dennis’s name. “What’s wrong?”

Catherine forced a smile. “Nothing. It’s just that… oh, never mind. Let me check on dinner.”

Catherine straightened out her desk and made her way to the kitchen. Eugene grabbed the evening paper and sat down in his favorite chair in the living room. It was an expensive overstuffed brown leather recliner. He opened the paper and began to read.

Senate to Take up Welfare Omnibus

“Hey, Cath! Did you see tonight’s paper?”

Catherine came into the living room. “Yeah, it looks like they may get rid of welfare altogether now.”

“First they roll everything into one omnibus package, and now they’re going to get rid of that too.”

“We knew that was going to happen.”

“Some guy was urging government to get rid of it on the radio today.”

“It’s like you always said—first they get people riled up about something; then it’s easy to change the law.”

“Yeah, that’s right. It’s what Professor Zinney always said. When NOGOV wants something done, they put the word out in the media. The media plays it up big time; then NOGOV goes to the government and demands they do something about it.”

Catherine just shook her head in disgust. “A regular racket.”

Eugene and Catherine sat down to a pork chop dinner and salad. Catherine liked to set out candles on the polished oak table, dining as if they were in a cozy restaurant. They ate in quiet until Eugene broke the silence. “You frowned when I mentioned Dennis.”

Catherine looked up, somewhat startled. “Did I?”

“He invited us to his house Saturday afternoon for a barbecue.”

“This Saturday? Oh, I don’t know, Gene. I have so much to do.”

“It’ll only be a couple hours. Surely, you can make time for that.”

“I’ll have to think about it. Gene… never mind.”

“That’s the second time you started to say something and changed your mind.”

Catherine flashed an embarrassing smile. “Did I?” she snickered. “I’m always doing that.”

“I couldn’t believe it when he stepped off that bike and took his helmet off,” Eugene said with a smile and a titter. “After all these years. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again. Did I ever tell you about him?”

“I think you mentioned his name one or two times.”

“We used to do everything together as kids.” Eugene was beaming. “We’d pretend to be astronauts visiting some strange and alien world.” He stopped to gobble down another bite of his pork. Catherine just picked at hers. “We’d be out in some field, playing around some drainage ditch—”

“Please,” she said.

“What’s wrong? You used to love hearing my stories.”

Catherine perked up again. “Oh, I’m sorry, hon. I guess I just let my mind wander.”

Eugene tried to continue, but Catherine pushed her plate away.

By midweek, Catherine had made some excuse to bow out of the barbecue, and encouraged Gene not to go either. “He’s Lightning Squad,” she said.

“So what.”

“Please, Gene—just make up some excuse. Let’s go out together. We haven’t done that in a long time.”

Eugene frowned. “Cath, I want to see him. And what does the Lightning Squad have to do with anything?”

Catherine started to smile, but her face was flushed, and her mood quickly turned somber. She didn’t answer.

When Saturday came, Eugene asked Catherine to call him about three o’clock to ask him to come home. “This way I’ll have an excuse to get out of there. When I come home we can go out, okay?” Catherine seemed to stare right past him.

Eugene frowned. “Please don’t go out drinking today.” Catherine continued staring into the unknown.

Gene got into his Lexus and started driving down the highway. He turned the radio on, and a commercial was playing. Gene rolled his eyes and looked up at a billboard.

This section of the Tri-State Tollway is presented by Parker’s Whole Milk

He rubbed his nose. Was it all worth it ? It was his company that encouraged the state to privatize the tollways as a way of raising revenue without increasing taxes.

The commercial was still playing so he changed stations and picked up a conservative talk radio show.

“I tell you folks, it’s the poor. They’re ruining this country. They don’t want to work; they drop out of school; and they suck from the government’s teat. I tell you folks, something’s got to be done about them.

“These people don’t want to work or can’t work. They drop out of school; they take after their welfare-driven parents; they commit crimes to get even more money; then they use that to buy drugs. It’s disgusting folks, but I, Joseph P. Barnum, have the solution. Get rid of welfare altogether. No money, no drugs.

“I’m tired of government spending mine and your hard-working money on these slime balls. That’s right folks. You heard me—slime balls. That’s what they are, and that’s what they always will be.”

Eugene just smiled and changed the station.

“Know someone who belongs in jail? Call 1-800-GO2-JAIL. Now, there’s justiceforall.com. With the shortage of judges, let our officers of the court take care of your problem. And when we put your problem away, you get paid! Just call 1-800-GO2-JAIL. We keep the jails full and you safe. So call today and get paid.”