Hawthorn
The center is a small and compact building. There are two doors, one in the front and one in the back. The floors are somewhat grimy, and the walls are stained with cigarette smoke. There is a lazy ceiling fan that turns in circles until it sputters out, always when it's hottest. There is a table in the middle, it’s wooden and splinters off into peoples hands and forearms often. There are two people standing off to the side of the room. There is a woman, her name is Charlotte. She is intense and focused, and she twists her long hair in her fingers as she speaks. There is a man, his name is Mateo. He keeps his hands tucked in his armpits and sways on the balls of his feet, just listening.
There is a small window behind the two people. This window is cracked, and crouched below it are two men. These men are evil. These men hate Charlotte and Mateo. These men want to hurt them. These men will wait until dark, and maybe even until the weekend, because above all, these men are afraid and noncommittal.
There is a meeting in the center tonight. When the sun sets, people like Mateo and Charlotte file in. They have spiky hair and dark clothes. They carry books and cds to share with the group. They have stern eyes and sharp noses. Some of them are carrying children on their hips. They don’t make up a big group, but they fill the space. The meeting is joyful. Soon food is on the wooden table, and people laugh and eat their fill. Charlotte addresses the group with concerns and announcements. There is a threat, and the room tenses when she mentions it. Evil men, evil men near, evil men far, evil men coming closer.
Mateo is there to quell fears, and he stands and reassures. Evil men aren’t strong, evil men aren’t smart, evil men won’t strike. The room relaxes and continues. The meeting ends, and people leave, happy, full, and informed. Across the city, evil men lay in wait. They have their own meeting. They sit in rows, and they kick their boots on the ground. They stink of sulfur and smoke. They sneer and laugh. They make a plan, they sharpen knives and brandish guns. They tie weapons together to create more of a visual effect. They best plot how to kill queers.
Charlotte and Mateo know that the evil men are getting ready. They get ready the same night. They sit with their knees together and hold their hands on the ground. They whisper and they crush herbs, and when it's done Charlotte collects the product and gently places it in her jacket. The next day a poster for a meeting at the center is torn down, shoved in a dirty pocket, and taken to a hideout. They will enact their plan that night. They are practically foaming at the mouth when the time comes, when the sun sets, when the air gets still. They are a mob, and they march to the center. There is no meeting that they can crash. There is a woman, her name is Charlotte. There is a man, his name is Mateo. They sit in the center, Charlotte with her legs dangling off the table, and Mateo with his back to the wall. The evil men burst in and laugh. A victory is clear and easy to take. It wasn’t exactly the scene they wanted, but an easy kill is just that, an easy kill.
Charlotte stands and smiles, and Mateo watches thoughtfully. She greets the evil men, and offers them food and shelter for the night. When they do not take it, she insists. When they take a step forward, as a big group, she sighs and puts her hands down in resignation. The first evil man strides up to her and strikes her, just once. She does not flinch, and when he rears back for the second hit, she takes out the product from earlier. It is a small jar with no top. There is a single hawthorn berry resting at the bottom of the jar. She offers it to the men. They refuse and laugh. Their refusal does not bother her. She tilts the jar so the contents of it bounces on the floor, and lets it roll in between the evil men’s legs. It comes to a stop at a boot, and it bounces once more before all of the men crumple. They are confused.
It isn’t until the man that struck Charlotte cries out, and his right arm pops off, leaving a clean wound behind, do the men become scared. They lay and scream as limbs detach themselves. When a head falls off of the neck, the mouth stays in a perfect “o”, as though they could continue to scream if they could.
When the show is over, Mateo stands and collects the berry from the floor, dropping it back into the jar, which Charlotte tucks into her jacket once more. They clean up, stacking the limbs neatly in several trash bags, and putting them out back. The heads they package in a cardboard box and walk them across town, to a headquarters they will never visit again. They place the box on the front steps and walk back to the center. There is another meeting the next night. People come in, happy and ready to spend time with each other. There is no threat, and they breathe easy.
The shed off to the side rests quiet.