Careful Measurements

by Layne D. Hansen

  “Okay. I understand,” Anna said resigned. “I’m sorry.”

  She watched them trudge their way to the sidewalk and down to the corner. When she closed the door behind her she wasn’t crying and that fact was the most bothersome of all.

  When Charlie opened the door and saw Anna he knew why she had come. He waved her in without a word. She walked into the living room, almost as if in a trance, and sat on Charlie’s plush loveseat. Charlie closed the door and sat down in an adjacent chair.

  A silent, electric telepathy seemed to pass through them. Her questions passed to him without a word and his answers were transmitted back to her in like manner.

  “Why Charlie?”

  There were no denials, no obfuscations. He sat back in the chair, taking in a deep breath of air. He was obviously thinking of how to put it, but her eyes were telling him that it would be dangerous for him to try to lie to her. Finally, he leaned forward and met her gaze. His eyes were intense, but when he spoke, he spoke gently.

  “Anna, did you think this was a game?”

  She turned away from him, tears stinging at her eyes.

  “Remember when I asked if you were ready for this and you said that you were?”

  “I didn’t—I,” she said, trying to protest, but he cut her off, clamping down on her forearm.

  “That’s a lie and you know it. Either you knew and you’re lying now or you were lying then and you’re a naïve child.”

  The words stung her, but she knew they were true. She couldn’t deny it. She tried to pull her arm free, but he gripped it tighter.

  “Anna,” he said, still in a soft, gentle voice. “This is not a game. The sacrifice of one family is going to be to the benefit of thousands of people. Is it tragic? Yes, but it’s for the greater good.”

  She looked at him and he seemed to be sincere. Still, she was frightened at his intensity. She now realized that Charlie was playing for keeps. Was she ready to do the same? Was she ready to make the same commitment? Finally, Anna nodded.

  “Okay,” Charlie said, releasing her arm. She rubbed at it absent-mindedly.

  “Well?” she began, not knowing how to ask the next question.

  “Yes?” he replied calmly, ever the patrician.

  “What’s next?” she asked timidly. She sat up straight in her seat, seeming to gird herself.

  Charlie leaned back in his chair again, a far off look in his eyes. After a few moments of reverie, Charlie leaned forward again.

  “We spring the trap.”

  CHAPTER

  10

  Patton and Jennifer couldn’t believe how empty the amphitheater looked. The last time they were there was for the kickoff event. There seemed to be a lot of people, mostly bunched together in front of the stage, but the venue looked empty.

  “What’s wrong?” Jennifer had asked, noticing that Patton was jittery.

  “Nothing,” he replied unconvincingly.

  Patton couldn’t put his finger on it. He just had a general feeling of angst about this meeting. There was a commotion on the stage and a group of about ten people walked towards the audience. They all carried chairs with them. Patton realized they intended to remain on the stage above the rest of the crowd.

  “What’s this?” he hissed, craning his neck around, trying to get a better view.

  “What?”

  “I guess these people think they’re some sort of committee.”

  Patton struck a defiant pose, his arms crossed, his jaw set. Apparently the meeting was about to begin. A woman was on stage, holding a microphone, tapping it with their index finger.

  “Testing … testing,” she said. “Okay. I guess we’re on.”

  The mousy looking woman with the librarian’s bun looked back at her colleagues on stage. An older looking gentleman nodded and she turned back to the microphone. Apparently, Patton thought, this old man was the leader of this group. Patton decided to watch him throughout.

  “Well hello,” the woman said cheerily. “It’s nice to have such a nice crowd out today. My name is Alice Weyland and I have been asked to conduct this meeting today.”

  She looked back at her colleagues again, then back to the crowd.

  “As you know, we’re here today to discuss the need for starting a government. We wanted everyone in our town to be involved. I’ve been told that over a thousand folks are logged in and watching and to those of you at home, welcome. Just know that you’re able to post any questions on the chat window and I’ll be sure to include those along with your comments. I apologize that we don’t have the capability to do some voice or video today.”

  Patton was squirming already. Jennifer grabbed his hand, hoping that her touch would calm him. The people on stage took turns standing and introducing themselves. When the old man stood and introduced himself, a sense of recognition came over Patton when he heard his voice.

  As if reading his mind, Jennifer squeezed his hand and leaned to whisper into his ear. “Hey, you see the older guy over there?” she said, pointing to their right. “And her?” she said, pointing over to their left.

  “Yeah. I swear I recognize them from somewhere,” he whispered back.

  “They’re that couple we saw at the restaurant in … that Italian restaurant. I remember thinking how weird it was for such an old guy and such a cute young girl to be together.”

  The young woman noticed Jennifer pointing and scowled angrily. Jennifer lowered her hand and sheepishly snuggled into Patton.

  Patton watched them in turn, looking at one and then at the other. Finally he remembered. It wasn’t the fact they had been such an odd match that had caught his attention, it had been what the old guy was talking to her about—his admiration for Che Guevara.

  “Yeah,” Patton said, nodding, “I remember that old bastard.”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes but she couldn’t help but laugh.

  Each person on the stage took time, discussing their concern about the murders, the fire, and the general increase in crime in the community. To Patton it seemed as if they were having a private committee meeting, basically ignoring the audience. When the emcee said, “There will have to be the authority to tax,” many of her colleagues on stage nodded in agreement. Patton wanted to jump up and interject, but another member of the audience stood and followed up with a question that Patton had wanted to ask.

  “Will there be a cap on how much can be taxed? Wouldn’t it be wiser to bond issues rather than to tax the people? At least that way you would have the consent of the people.”

  The older man, who had earlier introduced himself as Charlie Henry, stood to respond.

  “Bonding is an option of course,” he said, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “The problem with that, though, is that you’re entangling every bit of important business with a vote. It really slows down progress of what needs to get done.”

  Not being able to control himself any longer, Patton stood.

  “I think that’s the point of bonding, don’t you?”

  Shocked by the interruption, the older gentleman turned to meet Patton’s gaze.

  “Well, Sir, I take it you have something to say on this issue?”

  Patton pushed the button in front of his seat to activate the microphone. When the green light went solid he said, “Yes, among others.”

  The man smiled and gestured for Patton to continue.

  “Bonding is the only way to ensure that the government, if we end up setting one up—” he said, paused for a few beats, and then finished, saying “—doesn’t overdo it.”

  Charlie Henry harrumphed and then replied, “Overdo it?” His smug grin made Patton want to climb onto the stage and smack it off his face.

  Instead, Patton took a deep breath and said, “Yes. Overdo it,” pronouncing every syllable deliberately. There was a small scattering of laughter at his sarcas
m. “If you look at the American government before we all came here, they were overtaxing, overspending, over-regulating, and over-promising. Basically, they overstepped their bounds on every front.”

  “Every front?” Henry said, exasperated. “I believe you’re exaggerating a little bit here, young man.”

  “Well,” Patton said, feeling the blood rush to his face, “when I say every front I mean every front. Taxes, spending, regulations, programs, executive orders. The Supreme Court overruling on almost every case that comes before them. In fact, I wouldn’t doubt if that was part of the reason many of you are here now.” Patton looked at the crowd and was glad to see more than a few heads nod. “Why would we allow ourselves to follow that bad example?”

  The emcee stood and tried to cut Patton off, but Henry indicated that he wanted Patton to continue. Patton acknowledged the gesture with a nod.

  “First of all, let’s talk about why we’re here tonight. Yes, those murders were tragic, but will forming a government solve this problem? And not only that, governments have shown that once they’re formed, they quickly get out of control.”

  Henry, now enraged, turned away from the audience so they couldn’t his red face. Patton noticed the expression and smiled inwardly. He pressed on.

  “I have one more question and then I’ll be done, I guess.”

  Henry gestured for him to continue.

  “Let’s assume we need a government. That’s a stretch, but let’s assume. Why should it be you people that puts it together?”

  An earthy-looking woman stood and said, “Sir, we don’t appreciate your sarcasm, but I’ll answer your question as best I can,” she said condescendingly. “Apparently we are the ones most concerned about what has happened in our community recently and we want to do something about it—”

  “—but,” Patton said, trying to cut her off, but she went on.

  “—And …” she said, giving Patton an imperious look. “. . . We have taken the time to organize this meeting.”

  Patton glared at her as she returned to her seat.

  “If I may,” he said, exasperated. “Your answer was … well, how should I put this … total bullshit.” He ignored the murmurs and continued. “There are less than a dozen of you and there are over thirty thousand people in our community here. Are you telling me you’re going to be able to establish a government without the consent of the people?”

  Henry rose to respond.

  “We already have the signatures of over five hundred people and are working towards getting a thousand.”

  Patton tried to interrupt again, but Henry stopped his potential interjection with his hand.

  “Let me finish please. Now, I know that doesn’t sound like a lot, but it’s a significant amount. We’ll work on getting a majority of the people to form a government but until then, we need to answer some of these problems.”

  “One thousand is less than three percent of the people!” Patton complained. “Even if you had a majority to agree to a government, that doesn’t mean that they agree on the form of government you propose. You can’t just create a government and assume that people agree with it if you have a bare majority of the people.”

  The old man nodded in agreement, as did a couple others on the stage, and quite a few in the audience. Patton continued.

  “I’d like to make a motion now that we base whatever government we make on the Constitution of the United States.”

  “That’s a given, Mister …”

  “Larsen,” Patton said, not knowing he had just made himself a future target.

  “We thank you Mr. Larsen for your input. Are there any more questions?” he asked, looking at the rest of the crowd.

  A middle-aged woman stood and Jennifer saw her chance.

  “Let’s go,” Jennifer said, grabbing Patton’s arm.

  He nodded and she stood. Patton glared back behind him as they walked out. He met the old man’s violent gaze. The future adversaries glared at one another with contempt. Finally, Patton turned to Jennifer and smiled before taking a final glimpse at Charlie Henry’s rage.

  “That son of a bitch is going to be trouble,” Charlie said, nearly frantic. He’d been griping about “that Larsen bastard” ever since they left the meeting. Anna had never seen Charlie like this.

  “Charlie, it’s okay,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. He was acting like a young teenaged girl who found out her crush didn’t like her in return. “Did you think we wouldn’t have any opposition to this thing? Who’s being naive now?”

  Charlie stopped and looked at her. He wanted to be angry but she was right. She continued.

  “People like him are going to make this harder than we thought. We’re going to have to escalate. It’s like the Tea Party all over again.”

  He cringed when she mentioned the group’s name. Charlie shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought out of his mind. There were some flag-waving, brain-dead “patriots” here in Blue Creek, but if the population of this town was truly a microcosm of the United States, a majority of the people could be easily manipulated. They would just have to take advantage of that fact. If worse came to worse, they could get the teams out for some more mayhem. The community was on edge and needed only one more push. The only question was, how hard did that push need to be?

  Bao watched the two men exchange verbal daggers while the crowd grew nervous. He thought the younger guy was going to rush the stage and beat the older guy down. Instead, the younger guy seemed satisfied with getting the other’s goat. Bao had to hide his face so others wouldn’t see his grin. He hated politics, and worse, he hated watching people talk about politics. It was his job to be here, though. If he had his druthers he’d be playing Call of Duty online with Carl. However, Nate, his boss, had basically ordered him to attend and to report his findings by the next day.

  By Bao’s estimation, nothing had really been done. Just a bunch of people talking. He reported that formation of a government was being considered. He also reported that the meeting had gotten pretty intense. However, he did not report that two of the people on stage were behind the recent crime wave. And he did not report that those crimes were committed to force the townspeople to form a government that they would then seize control of. Had Bao known their intentions, he would have reported them. However, there was no guarantee that anyone reading it would do anything about it. The directive had been to let things play out unless things got really out of hand.

  For almost a week after the meeting, Patton was still fuming “that old bastard.” At times, Jennifer had to stay away from him or he was going to drive her crazy. Fortunately for Jennifer, she knew how to bring him out of his moods. Tonight she was going to distract him with serious business. She grabbed her iPad and sat by him on the couch. She opened the calendar app and scrolled through the coming months.

  “So when are we going to do this?”

  At first he didn’t know what she was referring to. It finally dawned on him that she was talking about their wedding. They’d narrowed their wedding day to a two-week window in October, but she wanted to nail down the specifics. There were too many details to plan and the summer was bleeding away. Like all men having this conversation, Patton wanted to say “I don’t give a damn,” but he fought the urge.

  “Let’s do October 15th,” he said, pointing at that day, trying to sound thoughtful about his choice.

  She looked at the square under his finger and began to run through the logistics in her head. This was it. The day was finally chosen. Emotion suddenly welled up inside her. She leapt into his arms and kissed him all over his face and neck. He was struck by her emotion and hugged her as tight as he could. He was also relieved to have the date nailed down.

  They returned to their planning, googling venues for their wedding, reception and honeymoon. Patton got lost in the moment. It was a far cry from his first wedding—his fir
st wife had made almost every single plan. She ended up telling him where to be, when to be there, and what to wear. Something was different this time and Patton realized that it might be him. Perhaps he was growing as a person. He took joy in watching Jennifer’s excitement.

  They grilled steaks and Jennifer made a salad for dinner. They ate and talked and drank wine. When it was dark, Patton decided that he was tired enough to go to bed. Jennifer, who was reading by her lamplight, noticed him turn over to his side, a sure sign that he was about to fall asleep.

  “You turning in?” she asked lovingly.

  He nodded sleepily. She smiled and leaned over to give him a goodnight kiss.

  “Goodnight Honey,” she said, getting no reply.

  Larsen Farms was well out of town, on a quiet stretch of a highway that was usually dead at night. As they approached the turnoff, the driver could see the large iron arch that stood over the driveway. He killed the lights and parked in a gravel turnout on the opposite side of the highway. The four people sat in the vehicle. All but one of them were anxious, if not nervous. All were dressed in black and were equipped with semi-automatic pistols, holstered at their waists. They’d planned this as well as possible, but there were so many unknowns. They didn’t know the layout of the farm. They didn’t even know if the loudmouth from the meeting would be at home.

  It had rained earlier that day. The wet road glistened in the bright moonlight. A sudden, strong breeze blew through a large maple tree, causing them all to jump at the sound. Lights were scattered throughout the compound, but were not bright enough to deter them from doing what they were here to do.

  The group crossed the road, hunched down but moving quickly. They kept to the long prairie grass on the sides of the driveway to avoid crunching gravel under their boots. As they passed under the arch, two of the team broke off and went to the right, ducking down behind a five-foot tall stone fence. The other two went left, hunkering down behind the fence on the other side of the driveway. The house was down in a small swale and to their right.