My parents were supportive of my career in the sense that they didn’t understand it in any way and repeatedly tried to send me checks for fifty dollars to help out.  Once a studio was nice enough to fly them out to LA for one of my movie premieres.  Afterwards my dad said that the movie was very nice but I should get a paying job.  When I told them I did get paid for being the movie my mom said “for what?”  When I was home for Christmas once I definitely heard her tell someone on the phone that I was a bank teller.     

I used to warn my parents because I happened to be partially nude in some of my early movies, but I realized that those warnings weren’t needed because they weren’t going to watch them.  I know they did see The Mistresses’ Guns because my dad said that it was okay but there was too much talking.  His review was that “sometimes it would just be talking for five or six minutes”.  Heaven forbid.  The funny thing about that is The Mistresses guns is right on the borderline of being almost an action flick, the last twenty minutes is just us mistresses in a firefight with the dirty Boers.   

What’s this have to do with anything?  I’m starting to feel the way my dad did about my movie about our stay in garbage town – too much talking.  And when I say that remember that I love to talk!  Seems like we’re going nowhere.  Slowly.  Even though the Invincible wrecked their whole society the Antolpians just want to talk and talk and talk.  I’ve explained to fifteen different horse-face people in stupid monk robes that we’re looking for the secret source of the Invincible horde’s advanced 1980’s technology.  They don’t really say anything in return.   It’s frustrating is what it is.  I understand being afraid of the people that smashed your livelihood but it’s already been smashed, what do they have to lose?   

Since that’s going nowhere I’ve tried to talk to as many of the dune buggy nomads of the great plains that I can find, under the assumption that they might have stumbled across where the Invincible are hiding but they’re taciturn to the point sometimes I wonder if they can even understand what I’m saying.  Martialla says that she thinks the ones here in garbagetown are outcasts and renegades so they wouldn’t know anything anyway but what does she know about it?   

Remember that silver necklace I picked up a while back with a crucified woman on it?  I’ve been wearing it because even after the end of the world it’s important to accessorize.  Perhaps even more important now.  While I was making my rounds talking for five or six minutes straight at a time to various people a group of garbagetown people, mostly women I think, saw it and flipped their lids.   

Turns out that woman on there is Jesus.  At least that’s the way these people feel about it.  Their theology is a bit off center from what I remember being taught in Sunday school.  As far as I can tell they have combined Mary and Jesus into one character who somehow gave birth to a magic baby but also is the savior-Redeemer herself.  Also I think there’s some John the Baptist in there.  They were pretty into me because they thought I looked like their Mary Jesus.   

So I have that going for me. 

At first I shrugged this off as post-apocalyptic tomfoolery but then I thought – someone had to make this necklace.  I’m pretty sure there were no silver necklaces with crucified ladies on them in my time, so that means that someone made it after the end.  I asked Paul if he knew anything about religion and lady Christs but as useless as ever he had no idea.  I don’t know really how jewelry is made but it seems beyond the capabilities of these mutants.  So at some point in the past this Lady Jesus religion came about?  I wonder how that happened.   

I told them about my mission and they were sadly ambivalent.  Even though I look like their Lord (Lady?) and Savior they don’t instantly want to fall at my feet and do whatever I want?  Rip-off.  They said they’d look into it but I get the impression they’re going to want something in return.  More of a transaction of commerce than an expression of religion ecstasy.  Ain’t that the story of my life?  Actually no, but it sounded good. 

I expressed my frustration to the gang over our slow/no progress back at the junkpile we’ve been staying in.   

“So what, do we just live here now?” 

Lucien started to say something conciliatory but Martialla rudely spoke over him “What’s your rush?  Why are you always in such a damn hurry?  Do you have a lot stacked up on your day planner?  I don’t think the guy you arbitrarily decided to murder is going anywhere.  If we wait long enough he’ll probably die on his own.  I think the life expectancy now is around forty-eight days. ” 

I pounded my first forcefully on the dirty dirty ground “There’s nothing arbitrary about it, it’s revenge!” 

“Do you even remember for what?” 

I gestured widely “For all of them.  The valley people, and the mole people, and the rat people, and those one guys, and the other ones.  I mean it’s not like I can get revenge on the people who put me in that tube.  They’re all dead.  Probably.” 

“The people that put you in that tube saved your life, why would you want revenge on them?” 

“They could have set it up so I was in stasis longer, so that we didn’t come out until after the world had rebuilt itself.” 

“How would they know that?” 

I scowled at her “Quit being reasonable.”