write this
emmer effer
a pretend genius broadsuction
some days are better than none
Argentina (dialysis)
Jorge Jorge
An evangelical pastor preaches to half a million followers at the city’s central park, for free.
Under thousands upon thousands of stares––frantic, trusting––he promises––he knows––that this failed country will soon be blessed with peace and prosperity.
This is the time, he says, for people to come together and leave their history of demons behind.
Salvation is everywhere.
The following Sunday, twelve soccer fans are murdered during the sixth round of the national soccer tournament.
Violence between rival gangs.
Punitive measures are taken against team clubs; vows are made to double the number of law-enforcement officers for the following round; cops go after evidence and lag behind.
Soccer players lament; the victims’ relatives demand justice; reporters inform some details and disregard a few others.
The Executive labels the episode a tragedy.
An isolated misfortune.
The common folk, the kidneys of this country, they wonder:
Why should this happen right after the pastor’s contrasting speculations?
It’s a warning from God, the pastor’s followers think.
The intellectuals, also common folk because they act with no ulterior motives, sit behind their desks and ponder and write and debate.
The pastor is said to be in talks to buy one of the soccer teams that was involved in the gang-related incidents.
The intellectuals point to a political maneuver, a set-up. Either the pastor instigated violence to pressure authorities to sell, or he is being given a warning to halt negotiations.
Their arguments only reach the ears of other intellectuals.
And those of a few others.
Meanwhile, the pastor keeps up with his agenda and is about to fly to a neighboring nation. Just before boarding his plane, a reporter asks for his opinion about last Sunday’s tragic events.
The pastor says something about dialysis.
***
Three weeks go by.
The crimes remain unsolved.
The common folk get impatient.
The followers begin to vocalize their anger. They talk about taking the country back.
Resetting it on its righteous course.
What the pastor said, what the pastor said.
The intellectuals continue to sit and ponder and write and debate.
Now they do so by appearing on national television or writing on their blogs more regularly.
They accuse the pastor of naturalizing civil confrontation for his own advantage.
Their arguments only reach the ears of other intellectuals.
And those of a few others.
The rest of the common folk aren’t willing to be as apathetic as they were three weeks ago.
They carry on with their lives casually, following the news to see when and if a social uprising might disrupt their comfortable lives.
Now there are rumors of marches, blocked roads, lootings happening in remote places where the media doesn’t reach; rumors about the government not wanting the media to cover what is really happening out there, somewhere.
The rumors become true.
Punitive measures are taken against the rebels; the number of law-enforcement officials on the streets doubles; cops go after evidence and lag behind.
Politicians lament; the relatives of the so-called rebels demand justice; reporters inform some details and disregard a few others.
The Executive labels the episode a tragedy.
An isolated misfortune. Momentarily under control.
***
Two weeks later.
The rebels have been placated.
The pastor has become a major shareholder in one of the national soccer teams.
But now the pastor’s followers have become more organized than ever before. The initial tragedy and the subsequent bloody events have given this group a renewed sense of kinship.
A higher purpose.
Now they have their own ideas about how things should be run.
How to bring the pastor’s words to life.
Impose them one way or another.
The intellectuals debate on how months of civil violence have debilitated the country’s institutions.
Whether things will take a turn for the worse, because the year ahead is an election year and in this country that means people get desperate.
Their arguments only reach the ears of other intellectuals.
And those of a few others.
The rest of the common folk––the ones marked by apathy––think, dwell.
(Protest Outside Of Congress Tests Government)Silently.
( ….. Votes Amid Strife and Fraud Accusations)Unconsciously.
(Turmoil in ….. Fear of Lootings Rises) As time goes by.
(Re-elected President Vows to Not Step Down)In their sleep.
(National Protest Swells, Economy Near Paralysis) Under the covers.
(Network Anchors Leave Country Amid Crackdown)While they weep.
(Opposition Unifies, Government Divides)At the Christmas table with their families.
(President’s Allies and Foes Clash, 3 Dead)Chunks of pale-yellow thoughts.
(What’s Behind the Demonstrations in …..?) Something about dialysis.
(Update: Day 14 of Protests)
In time, some of them find themselves joining the pastor’s movement.
The rest begin to disappear.
-----
Born and raised in Buenos Aires, Argentina, Jorge Cino recently completed his MFA in Creative Writing at University of San Francisco, and is currently submitting stories from his short story collection, Producing Monsters. He is the fiction editor of the literary journal Switchback. You can find him online at jorgecino.com.
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