The Complete Keys to Progress by McCallum John

Author:McCallum, John [McCallum, John]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: IronMind Enterprises, Inc.
Published: 2012-06-28T22:00:00+00:00

For a Big Chest—Part III

Molton Street runs parallel to, and four blocks west, of the main drag. Municipal zoning charts refer to it as a secondary rental area, which means that parades go by another route, fire insurance premiums are fifty percent higher than they should be, and the truck that washes down the streets is always out of water when it gets there.

Years ago, there was a great furor at City Hall and a tremendous wave of interest in renovating the area. The instigator of all the enthusiasm was a newly elected council member—an ambitious spinster of incredible chest size, the general proportions of a defensive line-backer, and the sensitive grace of a hammerhead shark. She announced her intention of conducting a personal tour of the area, and was chauffeured to the scene with great fuss and fanfare. She alighted from her car and gazed grandly about her. One of the two reporters covering the event whispered that she looked as though if she fell down she’d never get up again. The other reporter agreed, and added that with all the protoplasm lumped in front as it was, it was inevitable there’d be none left over for brains.

She started down the street. She went exactly three-quarters of one block, during which distance she received thirteen wolf whistles, four suggestions for the evening, and a seven stitch bite on the hip from the doberman that was supposed to be guarding the warehouse of the Western Fish Company.

She was whisked away in an avalanche of colorful and previously unsuspected vocabulary, and renovations were never mentioned again. The street settled back and private enterprise resumed its normal state of activity.

The man who ran the sporting goods store died and was replaced by a Chinese widow who sold vegetables in front of the store during the day, and an even more popular commodity in the back of the store at night. The building supply company on the corner was observed unloading merchandise of an extremely high thermal content from an unmarked van at four o’clock in the morning, and were shortly replaced by an outfit that imported Japanese guitars. The people who owned the cut rate clothing store in the next block guessed wrong on contemporary styling and stocked up with junk they couldn’t give away. Three months later, the building was wiped out by a fire which spread with such incredible precision that the Fire Chief observed the cause was unquestionably a fluorescent light on the main floor, a tri-light on the top floor, or an Israelite in the basement.

Insurance investigators poked about in the rubble for a few days, but the property was eventually cleaned up and converted into a parking lot.

One sunny afternoon, a young man emerged from his car in the parking lot. He had on tennis shoes, blue jeans, and a T-shirt four sizes too small with the words YORK BARBELL CLUB prominently displayed on the front.

The young man stepped out onto the street and took a deep breath.

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