home was, it gave Jerry time to think about his future. With his mom alone in Cleveland after the divorce a few years earlier — his dad was still in South Florida — she’d be glad to have Jerry back again. Sure, she’d be upset about his grades, but he knew that in a day or two, the disappointment would pass for her. When it came to discipline, she was as soft as parents came. Maybe he’d live at home for six months or a year, until he had enough money to get his own apartment or share one with a roommate. He’d probably need to go to night school at a community college to get his grades back up so that he could return to a four-year program. As for Rosie, he came to the conclusion that he never really loved her. But she probably didn’t love him either. They had their good times together — their year of smoking and screwing — but it had come to an end. It had to. They both needed to move on with their lives.
Jerry also thought a lot about Sarah during the trip home. He’d had sex with Rosie more than a hundred times and in every position imaginable — they even fucked standing up on the ninth green of a local golf course late one Saturday night — but none of those encounters compared to the last time he saw Sarah. Sure, she was a piece of neurotic work; it was hard to imagine being in a long-term relationship with her. But that moment she revealed herself to him — that instant of unrequited lust — was so erotic, spontaneous, and improbable, Jerry could never shake the wanting of her from his memory.
And Jerry could never forget the sense of urgency and purpose he felt — the empowerment — as he transported the yowling Francisco to the animal hospital, and the delight of bringing him back home, happy and healthy, to Sarah. It was perhaps his greatest accomplishment at Tulane. And, Sarah’s cats had touched him in a way he’d never been touched before. He had found a new connection. He began to see that those humble, loving animals weren’t all that different from him. At the end of the day, they were just trying to get along.
Suzy
As Jerry held out the brochure to a woman at the entrance of the fairgrounds, he tried to explain why a vegan diet was better for health, the environment, and the animals. But just twenty minutes into his activism career, he didn’t have his pitch down very well. “The dairy cows are given antibiotics, and they’re lactating all the time,” he said before pausing and opening the brochure to a photo of what he thought would be a downer cow but was a pig in a gestation crate. He kept flipping the panels of the trifold, looking for a cow picture, but realized there wasn’t one. “Anyway, sometimes they can’t even standup. It’s really, really bad.”
The woman was a short, stout, blonde wearing a bright-pink halter top that did little to support her enormous chest. She had three little kids in tow. Jerry couldn’t believe he was using the word “lactating” in front of her and her children. He tried to maintain eye contact, but her cleavage was like a hypnotic force controlling his gaze.
She took the brochure from Jerry, glancing at him skeptically. “I have some health issues, so maybe I should eat better,” she said as she looked over the pamphlet. “You look like you’re in good shape. How long you been a vegetarian?
“Honestly?”
“Yes, honestly,” she answered, looking quizzically at him.
“Well, it’s only been about a day.”
“A day? Holy crap!”
“Well, I had been thinking about it for a while, and then when I came here yesterday, and went to the animal barns, and, well it’s a long story.”
The woman stared at him intently. “And now you’re handing out this propaganda at the county fair?”
“I guess I just wanted to help. The people in this group are really nice.”
The woman and Jerry turned toward the shouting that suddenly came from the other end of the entrance gate. “You get your hands off her motherfucker!” yelled a biker with long unkempt hair, a scruffy beard, and black leather sleeveless vest. He was directing his anger at one of the other vegetarian activists, a scrawny guy in a baseball cap, who Jerry hadn’t met yet. Despite being physically dwarfed by the biker, the guy wasn’t dissuaded and yelled right back. Within a few seconds, the two were on the ground fighting. Four other people with the Vegetarian Action Committee, all women, ran over to try and break up the skirmish. Jerry followed.
The biker was on top of the activist, landing some strong punches to his face, as Jerry and the women tried to hold him back. The activist yelled, “Stop asshole! Stop asshole!” as blood flowed from his nose. The biker also had blood on his face, but it wasn’t clear whose blood it was. Within a minute, three policemen arrived on the scene and broke up the fight.
The biker insisted to the police that the “vegetarian jerk-off” had assaulted his girlfriend, a young woman in a halter top and leather shorts looking on, who angrily concurred, “He was touchin’ my ass and my tits! Guy had his hands all over me! What a pervert!”
The activist, who identified himself as Bill Kyle and a “loyal longtime volunteer” with the Vegetarian Action Committee, rebutted, “I was only trying to extol the virtues of a vegetarian diet to her when Easy Rider over here went ballistic on me.”
Suzy, the Committee outreach director who Jerry had met the previous afternoon, introduced herself to the policemen and explained that there must have been a misunderstanding. “Officers, we’re all about non-violence,” she said. “That’s why we’re here. That’s why we’re vegetarian.”
The biggest of the cops, a young guy in aviator sunglasses with a shaved head, bulging tattooed biceps and a massive chest, listened to Suzy, and looked over the group as the other two officers handcuffed Kyle and the biker. Jerry noticed several families slowing to watch the spectacle as they made their way through the fair entrance gate. For them, the afternoon’s entertainment had already started.
“Do you have a vendor’s license?” the lead officer asked Suzy.
“No, we’re not selling anything, and we’re not actually part of the fair.”
The policeman frowned. “You’re standing here at the main gate handing out this crap to every person who walks in, and you’re telling me you’re not part of the fair?” he said. “And then your little friend over here starts to inappropriately touch the women?”
“Officer, all I did was put my hand on her shoulder,” said Kyle as one of the policemen adjusted handcuffs around his wrists.
“KYLE. SHUT UP,” Suzy interjected, trying unsuccessfully to temper her irritation. “Officer, I am really sorry this happened.”
The policeman stood shaking his head. A dozen or so people had now stopped to watch the action. Jerry could hear someone off in the distance laughing and singing, “Bad boys, bad boys. Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?” The officer began talking into the radio clipped to his shoulder, saying something about getting three cruisers around to the main gate.
“We’re bringing you all in. Vending without a permit. I am not putting up with this shit at a family event. Charge the two guys with assault.”
Jerry and the other volunteers looked at each other in disbelief. Suzy, with her hands on her hips, glanced in the direction of the officer, and then turned around to look at the volunteers. She had no idea what to say, afraid that any more remarks in their defense would only make things worse.
Two more policemen walked over, one carrying plastic handcuffs. After frisking and cuffing the volunteers, they escorted them to three cruisers. Suzy and Jerry were put in the back seat of one of the cars.
