Careful Measurements

by Layne D. Hansen

  Alex nodded, went into his cubicle, and got to work writing the report. The report, which ended up being just over a page single spaced, went largely unread. No one from either the researchers or the government asked for more information. So, for the most part, Charlie’s invasion went largely unnoticed.

  Charlie Henry, the elder statesman, held the room in rapt attention. Looking at this roomful of young people took him back to his glory days—their passion, their youth and their vigor invigorated him in turn. He felt twenty-one again.

  “And what is the main thing we are looking for here? The thing that America has lacked for so long?”

  A few of the “students” looked at each other, none of them wanting to speak up and give the wrong answer. Before the silence became awkward, Anna, ever the teacher’s pet, spoke up.

  “Social justice,” she said, looking around at her colleagues shyly.

  Charlie looked down at her with a sense of fatherly pride in his eyes.

  “Very good, Anna,” Charlie said imperiously. “And what is the significance of social justice?”

  Everyone just looked over at Anna this time. She bit her lip and gave her mentor a timid look. To her, the term “social justice” had always been that—a term. It was one of those postmodernist terms that could mean anything and everything. To her, though, it meant that the state ran things and met the needs of its citizens.

  “Now,” Charlie said, gaining more confidence in his recruits as this meeting progressed, “what is the most important thing we remember as we go forward?”

  The vague question caused many hands to shoot up. Charlie pointed at a strongly built young man with longish hair.

  “The most important thing is to keep the big picture in mind. Progress is slow, especially when we’re dealing with Neanderthals,” he said proudly, looking around the room and grinning.

  “Good point,” Charlie said, smiling. He pointed at the next hand, which belonged to Anna’s friend Mark.

  “Adding to what Brandon said, progress is slow and sometimes it seems like you’re stuck. When that happens you have to keep moving forward. If one tactic doesn’t work, you go to the next one on the list.”

  “Very true,” Charlie said. “That’s what Alinsky taught us. Anyway, what are we missing here? What hasn’t been mentioned?”

  He peered around the room, meeting every person’s gaze. He looked at the long couch where Travis and Andrew were sitting. They both got heavily involved in the Occupy Wall Street movement and then with Antifa. He was very confident in himself, Anna could see, and Charlie had already told her that Travis was going to be his pit bull. Andrew was smaller than Travis and was clean-cut. Underneath his calm demeanor, however, Anna could tell that Andrew was not averse to violence.

  Travis raised his hand.

  “Yes?” Charlie said imperiously.

  “You try new tactics, but you have to keep a constant attack from all angles. Armies try to attack from the front, the sides and the air. We need to do the same from the streets, in the media, behind the scenes.”

  Charlie gazed at him pensively and then seemed to stare off into space. He was sad to say that he’d never made that connection, but it was a brilliant one.

  “I like that,” Charlie said, almost purring. “You’re right. We need to keep the pressure on from all angles.”

  The discussion went on for over an hour and Charlie looked over his new army in admiration. What they lacked in experience they made up for with passion. He would have traded them for a platoon of Weather Underground members, but this crew was willing, he could see. Sometimes merely having the will was enough, especially when the opposition didn’t know they were about to be at war.

  CHAPTER

  9

  Summer weather arrived in June. The mountains and hills were full of hikers and backpackers. The lake was full of boats and jet skis. One enterprising man started a baseball league for youth. Following suit, other groups formed leagues for other sports, including soccer, softball, and golf. There were even baseball and softball leagues for adults. It was during this period that a group of citizens held a contest to name the town. Residents of all ages submitted suggestions and an essay to explain why their name should be used. Ultimately, “Blue Creek” was selected. A twelve-year-old boy studied the history of the area and found it once had this name.

  Some townspeople raised money to buy signs with the town’s name emblazoned on it. A large metal arch, which spanned its way over three lanes of traffic on Main Street, was erected. A large ribbon-cutting ceremony was held to commemorate the event. A high school marching band from a nearby town performed and there was a community picnic at the city park that included games and activities. To cap the festivities, a concert was held that night at the amphitheater, along with a large fireworks show that was sponsored by several local businesses.

  A strong sense of community had begun do develop among the citizens. As June ended the good feeling remained, but there were a few incidents were cause for concern. A man was attacked by two people while stopped at a stoplight. Witnesses told the private security company who investigated the incident that the attackers pulled the man out of his car, beat him and robbed him at gunpoint. However, the witnesses weren’t able to sufficiently describe the attackers so no arrests were made. It seemed to be an isolated incident, but just days later, two businesses were burglarized and vandalized. Some money was stolen, but worse was the fact that the store owners didn’t have any insurance to pay for the damage.

  These incidents, which were reported in the local newspapers and on the TV news, prompted concerned citizens to talk about forming a police force. It would have the authority to investigate crime and punish the guilty. However, it was the night of the Fourth of July celebration that increased talk of a government and an official, organized police force.

  The celebrations during the day transpired without incident. There was a large parade and then a carnival at the city park with games, rides, and concerts. At dusk, the townspeople gathered to watch what was promised to be an even bigger fireworks show than the month before. The show lived up to its billing, but about halfway through, a light up in the hills north of town caught everyone’s attention.

  The fires started as small, disconnected patches, but began to merge together to form a recognizable symbol. Once the fire reached its fever pitch, a gigantic anarchy sign – the capital “A” with a circle drawn around its edges – could be seen from all over town. Several citizens raced up the hill to try to find the culprits, but the streets were packed with people and cars. By the time the first people reached the fire, there was no sign of the perpetrators. No real physical damage had been done, but whoever started the fire had inflicted major damage on the fragile psyche of the new community. Some residents demanded that authorities from the outside be called in to investigate.

  In the days and weeks following the incident, a debate on whether a government should be formed seemed to consume the local newspapers and online bloggers. Many of the stories were planted by Charlie Henry’s group, which was behind all of the incidents in the first place. Time passed and the heated debate died down, however, the pro-government movement regained traction after a family was murdered while they slept.

  After a few more break-ins, including one where a would-be burglar was caught and shot by the home’s owner, it was decided that forming a government with a legitimate police force was the only way to ensure the safety and security of the people and their property. No one knew exactly what form it would take, but fear and hopelessness made much of the citizenry feel like they had no other choice.

  The summer evening was warm but comfortable and the dry air hung like a blanket around those who milled around on Main Street. The setting sun cast pastel hues on the soft clouds. The downtown area was buzzing with activity. It was a perfect night for the people to get out and enjoy. Patton and Jennifer were among t
he many taking advantage of the beautiful evening. They walked along the sidewalk, swinging their clasped fingers back and forth like young lovers.

  Occasionally, one or other would stop in front of a shop to gaze at the wares. Twice, Jennifer made Patton stop in front of clothing stores that had ‘cute‘ window displays. Luckily for his wallet, all of the stores were closed. In retaliation, he made her stop in front of a gun store. She laughed at the childish way he guarded his eyes with his hands so he could see all of the big boy’s toys that were inside.

  “Oh!” he said, admiring the store’s new Barrett .50 caliber sniper rifle. “That’s the one!”

  She yanked at his arm but he didn’t budge. He looked down at the sign that announced the store’s hours and yes they would be open the next day at nine in the morning.

  “Oh no you don’t,” she said, half laughing, half annoyed, tugging at him like a harried mother with a wayward child.

  He stood erect and looked at her. “What do you mean ‘Oh no you don’t’? If I want to get it I’ll damn well get it,” he said defiantly, but with humor in his eyes.

  “You want to put that monstrous gun in the same house as our children?” she said, her hands defiantly on her hips.

  He shrugged boyishly. “If I bought it, it would be for our children. Look at what happened to …” he began saying but stopped, knowing that she wouldn’t want to hear about the family that was killed. Neither of them knew the victims, but the crime had hit them both very hard.

  She raised her hand to stop him, conceding defeat and said, “I can see why you want a gun but does it have to be so big? I mean, wouldn’t a simple handgun do just as well?”

  She had a point, he admitted to himself, but he wanted that rifle.

  “I’ll get a handgun too,” he said, laughed, and began to walk away with a triumphant grin. She followed him, trying not to pay attention to him, just blindly moving forward. Suddenly, she crashed into him and nearly fell. She hadn’t noticed that he’d stopped dead in his tracks.

  “What the hell!” she said, grabbing onto his arm so she wouldn’t fall to the concrete. When she regained her balance, she realized that he was looking at a bright orange poster with black print. It read:

  ATTENTION!

  Blue Creek Residents

  In light of the recent murders and other recent crimes, there will be a meeting at the Amphitheater Friday night to discuss the formation of a government. If you cannot attend in person, please click the “Government Webinar” link on the intranet site to watch the event live.

  August 1st, 6 P.M., Amphitheater

  Jennifer read the poster and then looked at Patton, who had that look on his face. He didn’t look angry. He looked … determined. Knowing Patton as well as she did, this did not bode well. An angry Patton was bad, yes, but a determined Patton was an absolute nightmare to deal with.

  “What’s wrong Honey?”

  He didn’t answer her and just continued reading the poster, tracing his finger across the words, mumbling them to himself as he read.

  “It doesn’t say who’s responsible for this,” he mumbled.

  The poster also said that if someone wanted to speak at the meeting they would have to register on the intranet site. Figuring it would be first come first serve, Patton grabbed Jennifer’s elbow and pulled her towards his truck.

  “Where are we going? Patton!” she yelled at him, pulling away from his grip.

  He ignored her question and kept on walking, almost jogging, to where he was parked. When they got to the truck, he nearly simultaneously jumped in and started it. After loudly revving the engine once, he yanked it into reverse, sped out of his parking spot, and then peeled out towards his house.

  An angry Jennifer folded her arms against her chest, staring forward, not saying a word. After reaching the two lane highway that would take him to his house, Patton said, “These people want to start a government. Who the hell do these people think they are?”

  Jennifer’s only response was to purse her lips even tighter. She wanted to go home but her car was at his house. Patton continued to mumble. Jennifer finally had enough.

  “Those people were murdered in their sleep in the middle of the night, Patton! What if we have kids and that happens to us, huh? What is all this anti-government garbage about anyway? I’m tired of you being so paranoid!”

  He looked at her, disbelieving, with pain in his eyes. He calmed himself, but with a wounded tone he said, “Don’t lecture me about having my children killed okay? I know perfectly well how that feels.”

  Tears of remorse stung at her eyes and she had to turn away from him. After a few minutes she turned to him again. Traces of pain were still in his eyes, but his face was passive and unreadable. She reached out and grabbed his arm.

  “I’m so sorry Patton. I wasn’t thinking.”

  He nodded at her apology and grabbed her hand. Relieved to be forgiven, tears poured down her cheeks and she wiped at them with her free hand. They drove on in silence for a few uncomfortable moments but he finally answered her question.

  “I may be paranoid but I think I have a reason to be. Even our government, which is supposed to be based on the Constitution, fell apart. If it’s founded on kneejerk reactions instead of real principles then this city is going to fall apart.”

  She shook her head at him and smiled. “Patton I love you, but I don’t know where you come up with this stuff.”

  He looked over at her. His eyes had a depth that she couldn’t describe.

  “Because I’ve seen it happen, Jennifer. And it’s not pretty.”

  He turned and watched the road again. They didn’t speak again until they reached his house.

  Mark and Patty were hoping to be packed and gone by the time Anna got home. However, just as Mark was stuffing the last of his things into a large backpack, he heard the front door open and the click of Anna’s shoes on the tile at the front door.

  “Hello?” Anna yelled through the house. “You guys here?”

  They looked at each other, not wanting to respond. There was no way for them to sneak out of the house. They were going to have to confront their friend after all.

  “Mark? Patty?” she yelled again, but they still were just standing there, looking like children hiding from a belligerent father. They heard her approach and then the door opened slowly. Anna saw them standing there, obviously preparing to leave. For a moment she was too shocked to say anything.

  “Hi,” Patty said awkwardly.

  “Hi …” Anna said, pushing the door all the way open, stepping cautiously into the room. “You guys going somewhere?”

  They looked at her, then at each other, then at the floor.

  “Well?” Anna said, her voice growing angrier.

  “Anna …” Mark said, wavering. “We can’t do this.”

  He reached out and touched Patty’s shoulder, either to support her or to draw support from her. Anna just stared at them, incredulous.

  “Anna, did Charlie order those other guys to kill that family?” Patty asked finally, tired of the pussyfooting.

  At first Anna was shocked at the allegation, but she couldn’t hide the fact that she’d had the same suspicions herself. She tried to regain her composure, but it was too late. Patty looked at Mark and motioned for them to go. He grabbed a large, Army duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder.

  “That’s what I thought,” she said with disgust in her voice.

  Anna reached out to stop him, but they pushed past her.

  “Wait! Look …” she said, breathing heavily now. “I don’t know if he did it. He would never tell me that. I really don’t know if it was him. I promise.”

  She was pleading with her eyes. She understood their anger if their accusations were true. The events of the summer had been a whirlwind. She and everyone else in the group had been busy trying to pus
h Blue Creek citizens towards pushing for a government. They couldn’t know what everyone was doing.

  “And the guy that got pulled out of his car and beat up? And the stores that got trashed and now those people are out of business! What the hell is going on Anna?” Mark said angrily. “This isn’t what I signed up for. We’re supposed to never let a crisis go to waste, not create the crises ourselves!”

  “Mark, I swear!”

  But he was gone down the hall and Patty was right behind him. Suddenly, Mark whirled around to face her.

  “What Anna! You swear what?”

  Anna approached him slowly, her palms up.

  “I had nothing to do with all that. He never told me about all that other stuff. After it happened I guessed it was him, but I swear I didn’t know. Just don’t go, please!”

  Mark looked at Patty, trying to get a sense of what she was thinking. After a moment, Mark turned back to Anna.

  “It doesn’t matter if you knew or not, Anna. We’re all a part of the murder of an innocent family. We can’t be a part of it anymore, not if that maniac is going to be involved.”

  Anna turned away from him, fighting tears, fighting a rage that had building up inside her for years. Here she was, finally a part of something that had a chance to actually make a difference in the world and her best friends were with her. Now they were leaving.

  “I’m sorry, guys,” Anna said, nearly whispering. “I didn’t know. That doesn’t mean you have to leave. We can talk to him.”

  “No,” Mark said simply and picked up his bags and made his way out of the house with Patty in tow.

  Patty stopped and turned back to look at her best friend with huge tears rolling down her face.

  “I’m sorry Anna. I just can’t be a part of this. That man …” Patty said, pointing towards nowhere, “. . . he’s a maniac!”

  Two thoughts crossed Anna’s mind at the same time. First, Anna knew they were right about Charlie. Second, Anna was going to see how far this was going to go. She had crossed the line that apparently her friends were not willing, or able, to cross.