Muster

by Christoff Orr

  No one is forcing them, Ms. White thought in her mind, the words erupting fiercely. For the shortest of moments she contemplated giving life to this thought, then just as quickly decided against it. She took a deep breath as she gave another glance out towards the snow capped mountain tops. Her smile restored she looked over and simply answered, “I understand, and I’m sorry, I truly am.”

  Butch smiled and gave a short nod. “I know we are not what you are use to working with, I mean, we are not trained soldiers, but we are good people. I know some might have been complaining, but they are good people. They are what we are fighting for, right?” He asked as he gave a weak smile.

  “I can see why the camp was drawn to you as their leader.” Ms. White answers back. She took a moment to collect her thoughts and allow her emotions to relax for a moment. She looked down at her feet, and watched as she stepped forward, left foot, then right, then left and right, so on, and so on. At this point it was as if she was just a traveler within her own body, which was transporting her to a new location.

  In her entire life, she had always felt like she knew where she was going, and how to get there. Now, she felt lost, disconnected. She still had the end goal in mind, but it was the path which had been lost. As if a great mist of darkness had descended upon it, and she was grasping desperately to find some indication of where she needed to go. Now as she walked along, she couldn’t help but think of her team members she had sent out, worrying about their safety and when if ever she’ll see them again. She took a deep breath, pulled her gaze skyward and said a quick prayer, asking for God to give her the strength needed to do what was required of her. She then looked over towards Butch, “What can you tell me about these people we are meeting up with?”

  Butch thought the question over in his mind for a bit before he tried to formulate an answer. “They are a bit secretive, let's start with that. They supposedly have some of the biggest stashes of supplies and contacts within the occupied zone.”

  Ms. White quickly looked over at Butch and asked, “How do they manage that? It’s been my experience, that when someone has a lot of something worth value, and others know about it, that they typically don’t have it for long. People attack, and plunder. How have they been able to hold onto it?”

  “Well, it's only assumed that they have the larges stash of supplies. It’s one of those situations, where when you ask someone how they know this, they always heard it from someone else who said they had first-hand knowledge. So it very well might be a case of the story being greater than the truth. Then there is the fact that they have numerous strongholds throughout the Salt Lake Valley, and this I can personally testify to. So it’s one of those hearsay stories, and no one has truly dug out the truth.” Butch said as he casually shrugged his shoulders.

  Ms. White thought about it for a moment then asked, “Where do you think it is stored, if they do have all these supplies?”

  Butch scratched his beard and he contemplated the question. “That I don’t know. Some say its underground somewhere in Salt Lake City. That some of those Mormon building might have underground bunkers deep under them, and that tunnels run underground connection the entire city in a maze of corridors and hidden rooms. Weathers, there is any truth to that, well your guess is as good as mine. What I can tell you is that having the Chinese there instead of the Russians was a major difference and has gone far in enabling them to get as big as they have.”

  Keeping her eyes forward Ms. White asked, "How so?”

  “Well, the Chinese are fairly laid back, in a sort.” Butch started. “Basically as long as you give them what they want when they want it, they really don’t care what you do. If you don’t rock the boat, they are content to allow you a bit of freedom. It is their feelings that it is easy to control an occupied nation, by allowing its citizens to be happy. The Russians are the exact opposite, they feel that the only way to run an occupied country is through forceful occupation. I can tell you this much, if Russia took over control of the Salt Lake area, those people up there, they wouldn’t last long, at least not without suffering major losses and having to make grand adjustments to their operation.”

  Ms. White stopped and turned towards Butch before asking, “I guess the million dollar question is, are we doing the right thing hooking up with them? I mean, are they as strong as people say and will they be able to help in the grand scheme of things?” She asked, both worried if they were not only running into a dead end, but one that would cost all of them their lives.

  “The way I see it, we don't have a choice.” Butch started before he completely stopped walking and turned to face Ms. White. “But to answer your question I look at it the same way I approached every criminal case I ever dealt with, and that every story began in truth. Do they have as much as everyone says they do? No, I don’t think so. Do they have enough to make a difference in the upcoming battle?” This time Butch just once again shrugged his shoulders. Finally, he asked, “Do they have enough to make a difference in our lives? That I can safely assume to be a yes.” Butch then turned and started to walk along the dirt road again, before he continued to speak, as he casually threw out an another comment, “If we had never heard from the Michigan, and we were in this same situation, honestly, I would be a lot more worried.”

  Ms. White took in all the information, processed it and evenly nodded in agreement. “I’ll take your word for it, Butch. But that being said, I’m not going to lose sight of the big picture. If they don’t want to help us out, getting to the President and shutting down the King, then my team and I are gone. We would love for you to join us, you're a natural leader and a wealth of knowledge, but I know you have your people to watch over. I can’t and won't stand in the way of that. But just know, if it does come to that, well, that’s where we’ll have to part ways.”

  Butch nodded in agreement, “If it comes to that, I will consider myself a lucky man to have worked with such a sweet and intelligent lady.”

  “Aww, you’re going to make me blush.” Ms. White said, as she extended her arm and patted the back of Butch. She then grinned and added, “Don’t forget dangerous, I’m still dangerous right?”

  This caused Butch to laugh out loud as he let out a big barrel laugh. He then quickly responded, “Yes! You are the most dangerous woman I know.”

  “Good,” Ms. White replied, as the two resumed their walk.

  9 Attitude & Elevatio n

  Independence Hall

  Mr. Edict, Tommy, and Cherry all sat in relative silence inside the old Red Owl Tavern, just a short distance away from their overall objective, Independence Hall. The exposed bricks and rustic decor allowed your mind to be transported back in time. They had just finished a nice morning brunch, which included some fresh bagels, eggs Benedict and some much-needed coffee. As Tommy sat there, next to a large window, he gazed outside at the freshly falling snow. He watched how tranquil and innocent it fell to the ground and the surrounding environment. He marveled at how each flake, seemingly weak and helpless was able to combine with one another and overtime, drown a landscape within its desires. With all of the comforts that had been afforded him the past bit, ever since meeting with the King, he had allowed his mind to wonder. Now as he sat here, in the birthplace of the America he had loved, with a beautiful woman next to him, and good food in his belly, he felt a twinge of guilt within his gut. He picked at his plate, moving around the last two bites of his eggs Benedict, he debated if there was enough room in his stomach for them, or if the stress and guilt had already filled that void.

  “You getting full?” Cherry asked as she sipped some of her coffee, as she allowed her head to leaned up against Tommys shoulder.

  “I’m defiantly getting there,” Tommy said with a smile as he placed his fork down and put his arms around Cherry.

  Mr. Edict finished his meal, which consisted of coffee, black, plain bagel, and an egg white omelet. He glanced out the window which butted up against their table, as he watched two Russian officials casual
ly stroll by, as fresh snow continued to gingerly fall from the havens. He then turned his attention to the rest of the tavern. He watched as the late breakfast crowd was starting to fade, leaving disarrayed plates and silverware in their wake. Everything seemingly went on like normal, as if the power had never faded. He then looked across the table where Tommy and Cherry were causally embraced. If he had a heart, he would have found peace and maybe even hope in such a display of mutual affection, but all he saw was a job and a tool. “Tommy, do you know why this tavern is still here?”

  Tommy quickly sat up straight and returned his hands to the table in front of him. He looked at Mr. Edict but was unsure as to how to answer the question. He wasn’t sure if Mr. Edict was asking for a factual recounting of how the tavern was originally built or a metaphorical dictation of its significance. The best response that Tommy could come up with was, “Sir?”

  Mr. Edict picked up the cloth napkin that rested near his plate, which now sat vacant of any food. He took his time to wipe his mouth and then his hands with the white napkin, before folding it back up and neatly placed it upon his plate. He then looked around the tavern once again, as the waiters and waitresses were moving about, cleaning up from the morning crowd and began to prep for the lunch rush. “When the lights went out, millions of people died, hundreds of thousands of business collapsed and crumbled, most to never be heard from again, ever. Yet here we sit, in this beautiful tavern, eating an amazing breakfast. This meal here, well let's just say, there are many out there who will never have such luxuries that we just enjoyed. So what I ask you now is, why does this place thrive unabated, continuing as if the loss of power was merely a flickering of the lights. Why does it live, while so many others perish?”

  This time Tommy sat back some as he folded his arms. He looked around, at the few remaining patrons, at the staff, then finally out through the window next to him. The sounds of dishes being stacked and soft conversations filled his ears. He then thought about his hometown, where all but three stores were lost to the blackout. Those that are still around, look like emaciated versions of their prior selves. They were alive in theory, meaning their doors were still open and they did provide a service that resembled their prior activities within the community. However, they were not like this tavern. Mr. Edict was correct when he said it looked as if they never skipped a beat. Everything from the food, to the tables and plates, even the menus, all seemed pristine and perfect. He then thought again about the stores back home that were still opened and questioned himself, why they were spared and so many others were left behind. It was then that it came to him. He sat back upright and looked across the table confidently towards Mr. Edict and answered, “Because they adapted. They agreed to provide a service for the greater good.”

  “Not bad Tommy,” Mr. Edict said as he allowed a thin smile to appear. “This tavern, like so many others, adapted, they made themselves necessary to the greater good. In this case, this particular tavern was saved due to its emotional attachment that it would instill in the community, and the nation as a whole.” Mr. Edict paused as he turned slightly in his chair and flagged down nearby waitress, “Ma’am?”

  Instantly the young redhead girl turned and quickly approached, “Yes sir, how can I help you today? More coffee?” She quickly asked.

  “Actually I just need a menu again please,” Mr. Edict said, with his typical charm.

  “Right away sir,” The young girl answered as she spun around and left to acquire a menu.

  Mr. Edict suspended his conversation till the young girl returned and handed him a menu. Once the menus were in his hand, he dismissed the girl with a smile and turned back to Tommy. “What do you see here?”

  Tommy reached across the table and took the menu in his hand and looked at it. To him, it didn’t look any different then the one he had used when they first got in here. He flipped through the two pages, turned it over and back again. Finally, he looked up and simply answered, “A menu.”

  Mr. Edict reached and took it back, the then held it so that Tommy and Cherry could see the front of it as he pointed towards the bottom, “Do you know what that says?”

  This time it was Cherry who leaned in and read aloud the small caption at the bottom of the menu, “In honor of our strong leaders who saved us when all was lost, in gratitude to Russia who took us in when we were lost, and to China for providing food when we had none. May we always remember who turned the lights back on, we thank you ~ The American People.” After reading it, Cherry sat back up and quickly said, “I remember that. It was part of the inauguration prayer when they turned the lights back on.”

  “Very good,” Mr. Edict said as he looked towards Cherry. He then opened the menu and pointed out, that the same inscription was listed at the bottom of every page. He counted to point out the artwork and plaques which hung about the tavern, how each had some form of encrypted imagery which was used to recognized the role that Russian, China and the current leadership played in saving everyone. He went on to explain how people under the Kings employment had created those symbols. He then looked out the window in the direction of Independence Hall, as he asked, “Do you know what happened there, all those years ago?”

  “Declaration of Independence,” Tommy quickly replied.

  “The Declaration of Independence, mere words on a piece of parchment. They carried no more weight than the paper they were written on, when they were first created, except,” Mr. Edict paused as he held up a single finger, “except those who signed it, believed in it. It was their faith in the words written which gave it power, that gave it weight. When you believe in something, even just words on a piece of paper, or on a menu, those words gain life, gain power.” He sat back and took a sip of his coffee, then placed the mug back on the table as he gazed out towards the landscape which stretched out just beyond the window. He continued to peer out the window as he spoke up once again, “This place, this city, holds special powers within its soil. There is a deep love for the history of these buildings, a love held by all Americans. Like a child has for its mother. It’s a love that cannot be classified or even understood at times, it just is. Actually most of the times it’s not even felt, except on a deep subconscious level. But it is a love, that if removed, the loss would be devastating. It is for that reason, this city and more importantly this area was saved. He turned back towards Tommy and Cherry as he continued, “This particular tavern was presented with an option, fade away and become nothing more than a fond memory, or it could be restored to its greater glory. It had to do only one thing. Do you know what that was?”

  Tommy had no idea and wasn’t going to waste Mr. Edict’s time pretending he did. He simply looked back and answered, “No sir.”

  “Give life. Give life to these simple words,” Mr. Edict said as he pointed to the description at the bottom of the menu. “When people come here, they will feel that love, their childlike appreciation, which will, in turn, be transferred to these simple words. Their innocent love for the birthplace of their beloved nation, will, in turn, give life to the new world which Mr. Magness and the others are creating. You will help with that. When you fulfill your mission, you will help them transfer that love and that power, fully over to the new leadership. You, Tommy, will help give life to our new world.”

  For the next few minutes, nothing was said between the three at the table. The early lunch crowd had already started to find their way into the tavern, reoccupying the recently vacated tables and chairs. Tommy sat back and watched as the newly arrived consumers entered the eating establishment. He didn’t just see them, but he looked at them, at each of them. He watched how casually they entered and made their way to their assigned seating. Their faces only carried the look of those who were content and happy. There was no worry if this might be their last meal, or where they might lay their head when night arrived. Clearly, there was no fear if they will live through the night, now that winters blanket had been pulled up tight across the landscape. These people were happy, the
y were alive. He then thought about what Mr. Edict had just said, that he could bring to pass a new beginning, that he personally could help sustain this quality of life, if not make it better.

  Mr. Edict pushed back his chair and stood up, as he looked towards Tommy and Cherry, “Let’s go, we have work to do.”

  Tommy and Cherry quickly got up from their chairs, as the crumpled up their cloth napkins and dropped them on their plates where the remains of their late breakfast remained. The two walked side by side and after a few steps, Cherry slipped her right hand into the grasp of Teddy’s left. It was a move so common amongst lovers and those who share a connection on an intimate level, that it caught Tommy comply off guard. Cherry has always been kind and friendly to him, very friendly, but she has never shown any real affection towards him, until now.

  Mr. Edict directed the group out of the tavern as they made their way over to the open lawn which stretched out in front of Independence Hall. The normally green grass was currently covered in a sheet of freshly laid snow. The soft flakes continued to fall to the ground and the surrounding areas, making everything soft and blurred. The red brick structure stood out like a bacon as the stark white flakes fell all around it.