Summary: I take pride in taking care of my environment. But somehow it seems I end up doing more damage than good, and not just with trees. Not after I met Boe. The estranged artist with more than paint brushes up his sleeve.

Gloomy Sunday's

It was a calming Sunday afternoon with the winds of change lightly dancing through my hair. At least I had a feeling today would be different. One of those defining mile stones n your life. But it wasn’t likely. The clear Arizona glass tea bottle in my hand was warm and empty. Today I was going to help save the world again by discarding it in the recycle bind near the hot pavement. “Only you can make the difference!” Damn straight Captain Planet; just one piece of trash at a time.

Sometimes I would imagine the trees thanking me for the kind generosity I alone was bestowing upon them in the whole of the park. The grass would sigh for their love for me and my strong will to clean up. I can not imagine why so many people disregard their environment. Who wants to live in their shit? I sure as hell don’t that’s who.

But of course I’m the only one around her who does a thing about it. I’m not discouraged though. It only makes my resolve for this issue all the more important. I peered into the green rectangular opening labeled “glass”. The only articles inside where the ones I had put there the week before. I never do expect anything but some how it’s still disappointing.

I watched the bottle dip below and gather towards its brethren. Maybe it would become another Arizona bottle. Probably not, more than likely it would be melted down and mixed with harmful chemicals that are destroying the ozone layer for a red convertible’s windshield.

Most my friends call me Green because I’m so concerned with the future of humanity and survival of the human race. It’s a burden not easily taken. “Kimber you are sogreen like the earth. Are you positive you’re not some kind of hippy?”

“Sherry, the earth is primary blue, not green.”

“Well duh I’m not in kindergarten anymore. You know what I mean. And I guess you can’t be a hippy you’re to tight ass to be one.”

And that’s how I’m primarily viewed. I don’t feel persecuted but its borderline something if you ask me. When I’d finished my weekly rounds of duty I’d sat down near a large tree. It was nice to just take in the beauty of nature and block out the noise of the city.

Somehow I’d drifted asleep and awoke with a startle to some near by noise.

“Where’s the money Boe? You know what I told you would happen if you didn’t have the money.”

“I said I don’t have your it already. I need more time alright?”

“You’re out of time.”

Kimber was more than a little disturbed at what she was hearing. It wasn’t smart to ease drop on what appeared to be a nasty drug situation. But that didn’t stop her from doing so. As she peeked around the tree she noticed three figures underneath the sidewalks yellow light. Two of them had their backs to her. Them obviously being the instigators of whatever was going on here. One was the typical henchman stereotype, while the other was a slight man who had yet to say a word. Quietly observing from the sidelines. The third party and unlucky whoever was blocked by the meathead loan shark; she wanted a closer look.

Gently she stepped around the tree and behind another one. She continued this zigzag process until she was mere yards from the company. The voices were easier to identify from the bodies now.

“Tell him I’m almost done with my piece and when I get a buyer I’ll have more than I owe.” That was mr. mysterious druggy.

“You know it doesn’t work like that. I’m afraid we have only one thing to do.” Finally the second man had spoken up. His voice carried a certain chilling factor with it that could cut the truth from lies. It was the voice of a killer.

“Let’s just be rational here1” He was panicking by now. And rightly so, he didn’t stand a chance against those two.

Kimber was tired of this situation. It would only end badly from here on out; although, she did want to help the poor guy. Well it wasn’t her problem. As she began to backtrack away from the men she heard a dreading crack under her foot. A stick.

The two men had sharply turned their heads her way and were staring with surprise at the little peeping tom. Yes that’s right, the very thing I had devoted my whole life to had betrayed my presence. Dramatic irony doesn’t get any better than a tree hugger like me. Anyways I did the only thing I knew to do. Run like a banshee.

As soon as I had made this resolve the men had recovered and had begun shouting at me. “Hey there! Who do you think you are? Come back here!” Oh great, it was the big one. He could snap me with no problem if he caught me. But as luck would have it Boe had decided to take off during this mild distraction (me).

“Shit! You go get him and I’ll take care of the girl.” This hadn’t quiet registered in my brain while I was dashing blindly through the middle of the park in my moccasins. Apparently this other guy was much faster and I could hear the sound of footsteps coming closer.

But he didn’t have me yet. Not while I had the adrenaline rush surging through my heart and out my veins. Fight or flight instinct. It’s an animalistic quality but when things get down to it humans are mammals with a slightly elevated IQ. And even then that’s been proved wrong. Especially in the light of how so many treat the ecosystem.

Even running for my life didn’t detour the aggravation the lack of care people have for their planet. And I have to say I think that’s what got me caught. My head was pounding with all the unnecessary gibberish in my head. And I didn’t notice the large green basket in my way until after I had slammed into it and fell on the ground. I rolled around a couple of times before stopping completely. My eyes were unfocused as the world around me began to spin into a cauldron of blue and greens. I reached with my hands to try and rise up but my left hand skidded across the smooth surface of something familiar.

I ran my fingertips over it, when I noticed the outline of letters forming in my blank head, Arizona Tea Company. It was my drink from earlier that day. This is what I get for trying to make the world a better place. Karma? There’s no such thing. And if there was it’s obviously dyslexic. And that guy who got tangled in with mobsters in the first place, he was probably home free. While I more than likely had a bruised rib and injured since of justice.

The last thing I really remember was a strange figure stooping over me. It seems today was more than it seemed after all.

If you find any grammatical errors, I apologize. Flames are not appreciated but constructive criticism would be nice.