Lead Screwdriver

A Sunkist naval orange, approximately five and one half centimeters in diameter. A tumbler, the top of which is five and one half centimeters in diameter. The orange is picked off of the tree by an immigrant worker whose name is Caesar. His parents had high aspirations for him. The glass is wiped clean with a grungy brownish white bar rag held by a bartender whose name is Ernest. His parents weren’t creative, and his father was a drunk. The under ripe orange is thrown into the back of a dilapidated Ford truck with wooden guards on the back, along with many other oranges of similar size. The bartender places the glass on the island stacked high with glasses in the center of the bar. Aaron examines the end of his Versace tie, green, and admires the way it looks with his blue shirt and black suit. Caesar’s brother drives the orangeful truck to the shipping building. The bartender turns on the register, flips the switch on the power supply of the open sign and unlocks the front door. Aaron’s boss walks into the room, cup of coffee in hand, and drones, “Mr. Burr, um, did you get that memo about the TPS reports?” The orange is cleaned and conveyered to a larger bin where it is loaded on a semi. The bartender’s first customer walks in, a regular, and orders a pint of Guinness. Aaron tries to glare a hole through his boss’s skull as he exits the room. The shipping truck is driven by William, an overweight 55 year old with a leather jacket and a Harley-Davidson Hog at home in his driveway. The bartender gets a few more customers, who turn on News Channel 13. Aaron snaps, decides to use his Beretta in his briefcase.

The scattered customers emit emotionless repetitive comments about the shooting that is reported on the television sets. “An Iowa man shoots up his office, mumbling something about TPS reports and coffee pots. In other newsÖ” The truck driver backs his truck into a slot in the loading bay at a distribution center, and the oranges conveyer to a smaller bin, which is inserted into a similar truck with varieties of produce. A bar customer makes a trite comment intended as sharp social commentary; “What is the world coming to?” Aaron, sweating, gets into his BMW, and squeals his tires many different times leaving the parking garage, and steers his car towards the 405. The orange is placed in an angled carton under a sign that reads, “Oranges 55¢ each.” The bartender breaks up a bar fight started over the implications of gun control. Aaron is hungry, pulls off the highway deciding to take local streets. The orange is picked up, squeezed and replaced. The glass is filled with gin & tonic; London Sapphire Gin, with store brand tonic. Aaron feels the onset of scurvy, pulls a plastic bag off of the roll, and places three oranges in it. The oranges are thrown into the firm leather passenger seat. The glass is again rinsed and replaced on the stack; the customer does not leave a tip. Aaron steers his car for Seattle. The orange has a comfortable ride on the highway. Another customer walks in, and asks for a glass half empty of Grey Goose vodka, and sits sweating profusely. The orange is placed on the bar, spun around on its axis, and severed in two by a swift hunting knife. Aaron squeezes the juice from the halves into the glass and says flatly to the wide-eyed tender, “Bar trick. Leave the bottle.” Screwdriver. Aaron changes direction towards Las Vegas. The police don’t find him, and continue on coffee and doughnuts.