by Steven Smith
"Which would be better?" asked Naomi.
Bill shrugged. "That depends on who you are and what you want."
He laid down his fork and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table and looking at her.
"Your mother's people are a nation. They are bound together by common language, culture, beliefs and history. The same might be said of your father's people, the Irish, although that would be a more complex argument to make because of the varied contributory groups that went into their making.
"As a nation," he continued, "the Comanche ruled over a large area of what later became parts of several states."
"Comancheria," Naomi nodded. "Parts of Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Oklahoma and Kansas. My mother taught me about that."
Bill nodded. "Exactly. Even though they dealt with secondary tribes within their area, and even took captives from other groups, including white settlers, those tribes and captives operated within the structure of Comanche authority and according to its customs, and some white captives who were rescued years later even returned to live with the Comanche because of their learned appreciation of the culture."
"Would you have called America a nation?" asked Tracy.
Bill thought for a moment. "First, realize that there was no nation or country ever called America. The term America was used to describe what was called the New World by European explorers. Eventually, it became part of the name of two continents and three geographical areas; north, central and south. But I know what you mean. The country we usually refer to as America was the United States of America, and I would categorize it as a country, not a nation."
"Why?" asked Patty.
Bill shrugged. "We like to think of The United States as a place of unity where everyone came together to create a new people and identity out of the remnants of older societies. We even used the term melting pot to describe it." He shook his head. "But that was never true. From the beginning, the Dutch, English, French and Spanish all vied for control of different areas of the New World, sometimes in cooperation with native populations - often in competition.
"Though the country that became known as The United States eventually evolved from these initial fragments, the country continued throughout its existence as a collection of fragments rather than a truly unified people. Remember, the country was created by the states, not the other way around."
"But we always came together as Americans, as a nation, when we needed to," said Tom. "Look at World War II and 9/11."
Bill looked at Tom and nodded. "The media and history books make it seem that way, but when we look more deeply, we see a somewhat different picture."
He looked around the table. "The truth is that most of the American people were against entering the second world war prior to Pearl Harbor, and many were even supportive of Germany."
"Are you kidding?" asked Patty, shock showing both on her face and in her voice.
Bill shook his head. "Not at all. The truth is often, perhaps even usually, hidden beneath the cloak the victors have draped over it and the narrative they have selected to conceal it. Study the truth behind the Civil War, the Spanish-American war, World War I, World War II, the Korean War, Vietnam, 9/11 and the gulf wars. Your understanding of the world will be turned upside down."
The table was silent, most of them just staring at Bill while Jim and Christian both nodded their heads slowly.
Bill continued, a bit more quietly. "If there was a unifying commonality that might have supported the argument that we were a nation, it was a shared religion. But even that dissipated toward the end, replaced by mandated tolerance of special interests, victim classes and political movements that promoted lifestyles and choices that would have been anathema to the vast majority of Americans only a few years before."
"And they finally even declared nationalism to be hate," said Jim.
Bill nodded his head slowly. “Yes. Yes, they did.”
26
"I didn't mean to be such a downer."
Jim poured two fingers of Eagle Rare into a glass and handed it to Bill. "You were right."
The remainder of dinner had been a bit subdued, elevated at the end by Becky's chocolate cake with fresh strawberries and finally breaking up into groups with the children playing, the women talking and sipping wine on the veranda and the men withdrawing to Jim's den.
"The United States was an amazing country and did a lot of great things," said Tom, accepting his own glass from Jim with a nod. "I wouldn't have wanted to live anywhere else. But it doesn't do any good to live in a bubble of misinformation just to feel good."
"I'll second that," nodded Mike.
Jim placed the bottle on the table in the middle of the sofas and sat down with his own drink. "Any thoughts from anybody?"
The men looked at each other for a moment until Christian spoke.
"The decision is yours, of course, but I think we should decide what is acceptable to us before we go to the meeting, regardless of what others are thinking about."
"You mean what form of government?" asked Jim.
Christian nodded. "We don't know what ideas other people might have, but I think we should decide what our drop-dead line is."
"Drop-dead line?" asked Bill.
"The line we won't cross," said Jim. "The point at which we get up, leave and tell them to drop dead."
Christian nodded. "You said that we would never again recognize any outside authority over us. Is that it?"
Jim nodded. "It is."
Bill leaned forward. "But how could that work if a new state or country forms?"
"An autonomous area," replied Jim.
"An autonomous area?"
Jim nodded again. "Yep. Kind of like the Indian reservations, but with a few differences."
Christian looked at his uncle closely. "You've thought about this.”
Jim took a sip of his bourbon. "I have."
"What kind of differences?" asked Bill.
Jim leaned back into the couch. "That's probably a discussion for a later time, and I'll want to talk to you about it. For now, autonomy is the baseline."
The men were silent for a moment, each thinking to himself about what that might mean and what it might entail.
Jim watched the others, waiting for any more questions, then looked at Christian.
"However this goes down, we'll need to secure a larger area in order to be self-sufficient. I've already marked the area on a map, and I'll go over it with you tomorrow."
Christian nodded.
Jim looked at Mike. "Mike, I don't want you to let this affect your decision about going home. You're an important part of us, but you have to do what's right for you. No matter what you decide, we'll be fine, and, like I told Christian, if you go back and stay, that just means we have a friend in South Carolina."
Mike nodded. "I know, but this is an important development and you might need me. I don't think I should be leaving right now."
Jim shook his head. "You can't decide on that basis. If life has taught me anything, it's that there's always going to be something. Whether you go home for good, or just for a visit and come back, you have to be where you feel is right for you."
He looked seriously at his chief of scouts. "I say this to you as if you were my own nephew."
Mike looked down at his drink and nodded slowly. "Thanks."
Jim looked at Tom. "Your job gets bigger now, Tom. When politics rears its head, intelligence becomes even more important. If Mike decides to come back, he will be the head of our military. If he decides to stay in South Carolina, would you be prepared to head up our military in addition to running intelligence?"
Tom looked back and forth between Mike and Jim, then nodded. "Mike has done an excellent job developing the scouts. He's the kind we always tried to get to come into the officer corps but were glad they stayed enlisted because their skills and leadership made our jobs so much easier."
He nodded again. "Mike has made it easy for someone to step in if necessary
, so yes, I could do that."
Jim nodded. "Good."
He looked at Bill. "Bill, I'm sure your mind is already identifying the extent to which your responsibilities will expand. Are you ready for it?"
Bill nodded thoughtfully. "I was just thinking about how few men in the whole of history have been in the situation we now find ourselves in."
He looked around at the group. "I can't claim to have the certainty of my abilities that I believe you all do, but I will do my best to satisfy whatever responsibilities fall upon me."
"Good," Jim nodded. "I want your feedback as we put this new thing together."
He looked at Christian. "Would you mind asking your wife to join us for a minute?"
Christian looked confused but nodded and got up. "Sure. Be right back."
The men talked until Christian re-entered the den with Naomi.
Jim rose from the couch as they entered. "Naomi, do you drink bourbon?"
Naomi looked around at the men and the glasses they were holding, recognizing the seriousness of the group. She nodded. "I usually prefer Moscato, but if bourbon is what the group is drinking then I drink bourbon."
Jim smiled. "I can't imagine a better answer."
Taking a new glass from the sidebar, he poured a small amount into it and handed it to her. "We'll keep your portions smaller until the baby is born, but the symbolism is the same."
She accepted the drink. "Symbolism?"
Jim held up the bottle to look at the graphic of the bald eagle, wings spread for braking and talons extended to pluck its prey from the water.
"Eagles are at the top of the food chain. They don’t flock, but live their lives above and separate from the turmoil of other birds. They mate for life and protect their young ferociously, building massive nests and patrolling relentlessly for threats. They kill only for self-preservation, and spend their lives soaring above the fray of the rest of creation."
He looked at her. "How's that?"
She looked at him. "Impressive."
He chuckled. "Good, 'cause I just made that up. Not the facts, just the symbolism. The real symbolism is that you're part of this conversation right now."
He nodded toward the horseshoe of couches. "Have a seat."
She followed Christian to a couch and sat down, holding her drink.
"We've been discussing some future plans," said Jim, returning to his own seat. "We don't know what others will be proposing at the meeting in Topeka, but my position is that we will keep our autonomy, not putting ourselves under the authority of any other political entity."
He took a sip and continued. "This might cause some problems. Others may want us to come with them under a common political structure. When we don't agree to do so, they may try to pressure us, or even force us to."
"How could they force us to?" Naomi asked.
"When South Carolina seceded, they instructed the Union to remove its garrison from Forts Moultrie and Sumpter in Charleston Harbor," said Mike. "The reason was that, since South Carolina had separated itself from the United States, federal troops were an occupying force of a foreign country and could not be tolerated."
He took a sip of his bourbon. "After some negotiations, the Union agreed, also agreeing to allow South Carolina to resupply the garrison as they prepared to vacate the forts since northern resupply ships would not be allowed to enter South Carolina waters."
He set his glass on the coffee table. "The Union went back on its word, sending supply ships to the forts in clear violation of the agreement. Seeing this as an act of war, batteries from The Citadel fired on the ships and the forts in order to prevent the resupply of troops they now clearly saw as hostiles in their territory.
"Lincoln claimed that southern forces had attacked the Union and requisitioned seventy-five thousand militia from the states to invade the south. Four years later, more than six hundred thousand Americans were dead, many more were maimed and scarred for life, whole families had been exterminated and the south lay in ruins. They say civilian mortalities in the south exceeded that of any country during World War I."
The group sat in silence.
"I never knew that," Naomi said quietly.
"They didn't teach it in schools," said Jim.
She took a sip of her bourbon, bracing against its strength, then looked a Jim silently.
"There is a saying," said Jim, "that war is simply diplomacy by other means." He nodded, as if to himself. "Maybe, maybe not. But I do know that wars start when diplomacy fails."
He looked at her. "I don't want to fight with anybody if it can be avoided, but I won't allow others to exert their will over us. In order to accomplish that, we need to be strong in both our ability to defend ourselves and exert strength when necessary - and in our commitment to that policy. Part of that is communicating our position to others firmly and clearly, and for that I need the best possible representative.”
He leaned forward. “I think you are that person. I would like you to be our representative, our ambassador, to those around us as we navigate the next phases of whatever this new world is becoming."
Naomi looked at Jim, stunned. That the offer was an honor was a given. But the shock of it set her mentally back a step.
"Why me?” she asked, confused. “I don't have any experience in those kinds of things."
Jim smiled. "Because you're smart, you're strong, you're confident, you're direct and you've shown your bedrock belief in the right things in life. You look people in the eye while you speak the truth calmly. You can't be buffaloed or intimidated. You've shown your loyalty and dedication to our family and our community. With your little one coming, I don't think there's anyone who has a greater desire to see the way of life we belief in survive and prosper.
“And finally," he cocked his head at Christian, "he's been so much nicer since you married him. If you can do that with him, the rest of the world should be easy."
27
Jim opened his eyes, wondering what had awakened him. The wisp of a dream disappeared before he could latch onto it, and he lay there listening.
The silence was complete except for Kelly's soft breathing, and he could tell that it was earlier than he usually awoke because of the grey around the edges of the curtains. He listened carefully, but, hearing nothing unusual, swung his feet out of bed.
He took a quick shower and got dressed, then carried his boots and gun belt downstairs to the kitchen before putting them on and stepping out onto the veranda.
A thick fog explained why there had only been grey around the bedroom curtains and he stood for a moment enjoying it. For some reason, he had always liked fog, and it was so rare at Stonemont it was almost exciting. Like a year's first snow.
He turned toward the row of rocket stoves and started a fire in one, carefully feeding sticks into it until it made the sound that told him the draw was right. Filling the enamel coffee pot from the Berkey, he placed it on the stove and turned back to the fog.
The roof of the central hall was barely visible, only its top dozen feet or so rising through the fog as if growing out of it. The ground level was shrouded beyond just a few feet and his hand started toward the butt of his gun before he recognized the apparition that appeared in front of him.
"Glad you stopped," said Mike. "I sure don't want to be shot with that thing."
He stepped up onto the veranda. "It took me twice as long as usual to find my way over here in this stuff."
Jim looked at his chief of scouts and chuckled. "You looked like one of those swamp things coming out of the mist. What gets you over here so early?"
"I've been up all night, thinking. I didn't expect you to be up yet. I just figured I'd come over and wait for you to come out."
Jim shrugged. "Something woke me up early. You ready for some coffee?"
Mike nodded. "Half past ready."
Jim turned to check the pot. "Should be just a few more minutes." He looked back into the fog. "I like this stuff."
Mike looked into t
he fog. "Good for attackers. Bad for defenders."
Jim turned and looked at Mike. "You want to tell me now or wait for the coffee?"
Mike shook his head. "No need to wait. I just wanted to tell you that I'm staying."
Jim looked at him, hiding his surprise, then turned toward the coffee pot. "I think the water's about ready. Let's get a cup and sit down."
He walked to the sideboard and removed two mugs from the shelf, poured hot water into them and spooned a heaping teaspoon of instant Folgers into each one.
"Here," he said, handing one to Mike. "I don't know what I'll do when I run out of this."
Mike nodded and took a seat at the table. "I know what you mean."
Jim sat down, took a sip from his mug and looked at Mike. He had always liked the young scout leader and knew how hard the decision must have been. He raised his cup a bit toward him.
"First off, buddy, I'm glad you're staying. I won't show you the disrespect of asking if you're sure you've thought this through, because I know you have, but do you mind telling me why?"
Mike took a sip and shook his head. "You know that Tracy and I want to get married?"
Jim nodded.
Mike leaned back in his chair. "If I went back to South Carolina with the Travelers, I'd be coming back by myself. I'd probably make it, but a lot of things could happen to a guy trying to make that trip alone and who knows how long it would take."
He took another sip. "Tracy's pregnant, so I wouldn't want to take her, and I don't want to be away during this time."
Jim smiled. "I don’t blame you. Congratulations."
Mike smiled self-consciously. "Thanks. It's a weird feeling. I never thought I'd feel this way."
Jim nodded. "It's the greatest thing in the world for a man, and the feelings you have right now will just get bigger and better." He chuckled. "Mixed with a lot of noise, stickiness and spillage of course."