MASH Magazine Issue 2 - Page 10

Roots The Cleansing T he entire set-up, with the chains and the rock, reminded Dr. Jefferies of the myth of Andromeda, although assuming this was anything but coincidental was giving the plebeians too much credit. He doubted even one in the mass up there knew their Chronos from their Cicero. union members weren’t listening. They had kept moving down the chain: every time they cut off the top, a new top freshly revealed. Now Dr. Jefferies was the one in the pit. He was a dentist, for Christ’s sake. Sure, he had a vacation home in Cabo and a Lexus, but he worked hard to get here, harder than any of them. And who the hell was going to clean their teeth now? More than the heat or the hunger pains, it sickened Dr. Jefferies that he once counted himself among them. How low an estimation of himself he had! The stupidity was apparent on their faces, leering down over the guardrail, each one as blank as the next. He couldn’t help noting the similarity between their open mouths and those of the dead fish at his feet. Dr. Jefferies tugged on the chain, but as the masons were as yet to be cleansed, it remained firmly set in the rock. A murmur rose in the crowd. Alligator snouts were now sticking from the waters’ edge. He looked up at the construction workers and waiters and cab drivers. You all just wait, he t