Raisins Under the Sun

 

            Ray awoke one morning on his ranch in Nebraska.  Ray smelled no breakfast and began yelling at his wife.  “There’s no need to raise sin, dear,” uttered Ray’s wife.  “I want my waffles damnit.  Renee sweetie, I want my raisin waffles like I have every morning.”  Ray’s son Randy hobbled down the silent witnesses like he did every morning.  “Randy honey, run to Murray’s Drug Store and get me some raisins.”  Applying his old muddy boots, he shouted, “fine!”

            Ray’s son paced himself down the mile road.  Among the juniper by Gary’s Auto Shop, Arlene the flirt hung out the gate.  “Ay there Randy, whatcha lookin’ for?” she teased.  Every night Randy prays in his linen nightgown for Arlene to be with him.  Ray’s son slowly approached, traversing the awkward areas inside her gaze.  Their lips met in a ruse immensely impassioned.  Arlene smiled as Ray’s son continued his journey.  “Later.”  Randy passed a billboard: “Our ace in your sleeve.  Call 1-800-ATTOURN for Judge Arvin’s R.A. for help.”  Finally Randy reached Murray’s Drug Store.  “Reece, I don’t need a reason to go raisin’ a barn.  I could store extra stocks in there,” remarked Murray as Randy entered.  “What can I do for you son?”  Randy demanded, “Give me two boxes of raisins, a pack of Marlboros, and one of those packs of Reisins.”  Murray huffed as he rung up the register.  Reece arranged his “Armani” tie (K-Mart) as he watched Randy pick up an eraser and delete prices marked up on the board.  “”What’re you doin’ boy?  Are you erasin’ my numbers on purpose?” retorted the angry owner.  Ray’s son proclaimed his arrogant sigh and ran his way out. 

            He strode his way over to Tracy’s apartment.  A knock on the door revealed Tracy behind.  The two, holding each other arm in arm, strolled down the stretch.  “Where is that clothing shop you wanted to go to?”  She countered with, “Traders Avenue.”  That was by the R.A.’s sign.  They hurdled down the express, racin’ to best each other.  They entered the store (Randy didn’t hold the door open for her) and Tracy arrived at her destination- clothes shopping.  She eyed a fabric of beauty and tried it on, with no modesty.  “Do you like it?”  Randy merely smirked in agreement.  “Which color?” she added.  Behind the counter, a somnambulant voice arose, “Gray’s in.”  Tracy smiled with delight as she raised her hands for Randy’s charity.  “No,” he blurted.  Mopingly, Tracy stormed out.  Minutes later, Randy caught up.  “I hate you Mr. Arvin.”  He then produced a small piece of gray from his breast.  “Oh thank you!  How much was it?”  He laughed, “five finger discount.”  She ignorantly gleamed with bliss.  She was so in love that it felt like Randy had committed arson upon her heart. 

            The couple hurried back to her house where sun rays set the building ablaze.  They quietly snuck up to her tiny room where they changed Tracy in a great Metamorphosis.  Randy had been altered already, unknown to Tracy.  Hours in passion enraptured her mind as she thought about his love, after he had left.  Meanwhile, Randy strutted past the town back to the juniper.  Already recovered, he found Arlene waiting.  She removed his buckle and raised his arousal.  She smothered him in one long kiss that ended in his final epitome of pleasure.  She winked, and he was gone. 

            He concluded his trek on the porch steps where Ray sat waiting.  A raise of Ray’s hand, and a lash of belt upon his prodigy.  “I told you to hurry back with raisins.  What’re these?  Cigarettes?  Mine now.  Candy?”  He flung the Reisens without a reason into the garbage bin.  Renee stood by helplessly inside, ironing Ray’s stained shirt, but lifted no finger to stop his transgressions.  From above, rays from the sun shone upon the town’s raisins, and its people raisin’ sin with delight.