by Mark Goodwin
“What about Texas?”
“Not even close. The reason Antifa chose this state to go after to swing the election was because it was already teetering on the verge of going liberal. The influx of Democrats from California, years of unenforced immigration law, combined with Texas’ institutes of higher learning made it an easy election to steal.
“Oklahoma is on the top-ten list for reddest states. That’s where my homestead is. It’s not as fancy as the doctor’s here, but I’ve got all the resources we need to ride this thing out. You should talk to your friends and ask them to go there. We’ll make room for everybody.”
Ava sat up on the bed. “Leave Texas?”
“You don’t have anything to leave. Your apartment has been burned. Sam won’t be able to reopen his office until all this is sorted out, so you don’t have a job. These people are all you have, and we can take them with us. What’s more, they’ll all be safe. You don’t want to stay here, Ava. Texas is going to be a war zone. I’ve spent too much of my life living in a war zone. So has Foley. It changed us both—for the worse. And if you stay here, even if you live through it, you won’t be the same. I’m begging you, please; come back to Oklahoma with me.”
Ava’s mouth hung open in shock. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say you’ll think about it; that you’ll talk it over with the group.”
She shook her head slowly. “And give up? Texas is my home. I don’t want to let Markovich and the communists have it without a fight.”
“Ava, this is not your fight. I’m sure Oklahoma is one of the states that will secede. We can support the effort from there.”
“I don’t want to go to Oklahoma and fight. I want to fight here.”
“No, you’re not understanding me. We can support them without fighting. I’ve got a huge farm. We can grow crops and support the war effort with resources.”
“What? Be farmers? If every conservative decides to farm instead of fight, then Markovich won’t have much trouble at all. In fact, he’ll likely be very well-fed; and have a very well-fed army!”
Ava stood up from the bed. Her face was glowing a bright hue of vermilion. “I don’t blame Antifa for any of this. They’re just doing what they believe in—what they’ve been programmed to think. In fact, I respect them. At least when they have a core conviction, they take action.”
Ava put her hands on her hips and leaned forward toward her father. “Do you know who I blame for this mess? Armchair conservatives who won’t do anything except sit around and watch Fox News all day and complain about how the liberals are stealing their country. Well, I’ve got news for you; the liberals didn’t steal anything. The conservatives abandoned their post; like walking away from a car on the freeway. The liberals happen to be walking by, saw a fine-looking vehicle on the side of the road, gassed up, keys in the ignition. Who can blame them? From their perspective, it probably looked like no one wanted it, so why not put it to good use?”
She shook her head violently. “And Antifa, those poor kids went to the schools your generation sent them to; schools that conservatives allowed to be hijacked by the communists. Schools that taught them there is no God. The Antifa kids watched the propaganda movies put out by Hollywood that their mothers and fathers paid for them to watch; no one ever told them any different. Conservative complacency, that’s why this is all happening. It’s not even fair to blame these poor mindless zombies who don’t know their brains from a blob of warm lard.
“If you want conservatives to do anything, you have to tie it to a tax bill. They’ll stand idly by while children are murdered, atheism is taught in schools and the country is taken over by communists, but tell them they’ll get an extra hundred bucks back from the IRS and they’ll move heaven and earth.”
She glared at him. “Now you want to go be a farmer.” Ava looked away with tight fists and a tight jaw.
“Ava, every day for the past thirty years, I’ve wished I hadn’t taken that job; wished I’d been there for my child. If I could have changed that one thing, I’d have been a good father. I’d have fought against the school system. I’d have been involved in politics. I’d have protested, whatever I could have done to make this a better country for you.
“The paychecks were phenomenal, especially for the nineties. But that’s not why I did what I did. I was fighting communism; trying to make this a better world for everybody. At least that’s what I thought.”
Guilt washed through Ava’s soul like a flood of septic shame. She lowered her head, appalled at what she’d just said to this poor man who’d endured so much and been abandoned for decades by his country. Why should he want to fight? He’d given his all and received nothing in return.
Tears of self-condemnation formed at the corners of her eyes. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt. She took a deep breath and sat on the bed next to her father. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I wish I could take back everything I just said to you.”
She took his hand. “Please forgive me.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He pulled her head close to his.
The two of them sat on the bed for several minutes without speaking.
Ava interrupted the quietness. “You don’t owe this country anything. They used you and tossed you out like a sour dish rag. But Texas is my home. And I have to take a stand. Go back to Oklahoma. When it’s all over, I’ll come get you, and we’ll live out our days together, right here in Texas.”
Ulysses pulled back from her, holding her head in his hands. He bit his lip as tears ran down his chin. “Ava, I’m never leaving you again. If you’re determined to fight, I’ll be right by your side.”
CHAPTER 8
For ye know what commandments we gave you by the Lord Jesus. For this is the will of God, even your sanctification, that ye should abstain from fornication: That every one of you should know how to possess his vessel in sanctification and honour; Not in the lust of concupiscence, even as the Gentiles which know not God.
1 Thessalonians 4:2-5
Ava leaned over and put her hand on Foley’s back as he lay on the bed with his eye against the night vision scope. “So that’s where we’re at. I’m sort of assuming you’re on the same page as me and my dad, I just don’t know about everyone else.”
“I’m in.”
She smiled and lowered herself on his wide back. “Thanks. I’m worried that my dad might not be up for it.”
“Why?”
“Everything he’s been through. He’s dealing with some serious PTSD.”
“From what I’ve seen, and from what you told me about how he handled those guys at the polling station, I don’t think his PTSD is likely to affect his ability to function in a combat situation. I’ve been through it myself and I’ve seen it in plenty of other guys. Your dad’s problem is most likely sleeping, nightmares; you see those thousand-yard stares he gets from time to time. It’s not healthy but your dad probably feels more comfortable in a firefight than going out to eat at a restaurant.”
“What do you think the others will say?” She ran her fingers up and down his back, feeling the muscles.
“You know them better than me.” Foley let the rifle fall sideways on the bed and turned over to kiss Ava. He gripped her shoulders, then let his hands run down her torso to her waist. He kissed her passionately and she melted into his arms.
Minutes later, Foley stood up from the bed. “We can’t do this. My pulse is pounding like a drum.” He shook his head. “Besides the slippery slope we’re getting on morally, I’m supposed to be watching the drive. I’m sorry, Ava. We can’t work watch shifts together. I simply don’t have the willpower to control myself when I’m around you.”
She took a deep breath and slowly let it back out. “Yeah, I’m having the same problem. And don’t apologize. I’m the one who started it. I’m sorry.” Ava sat up on the bed and straightened her shirt. “But I’m going to miss hanging out with you up here.”
Foley sat back dow
n. “Me, too.”
Ava took his hand. “While we’re on the subject, I’m sure you’ve heard that James and Charity took the big room downstairs. That means I’ll be moving upstairs, across the hall from you. We should go ahead and say visiting each other in our bedrooms is off limits.” She bit her lip and looked him in the eyes. “Otherwise, it could be a little too convenient.”
Foley nodded. “God told Cain to be careful because sin was crouching at his door. In our case, I guess it’ll be right across the hall.”
She giggled and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
Foley watched her for a few seconds.
Ava flipped her hair behind her ear. “What?”
He held her hand firmly. “We’ve only known each other for about three months. But being around you all the time, it’s been . . . immersive.”
“What the heck is that supposed to mean?”
He put his hand around her back. “It means . . .” He paused. “It means I’m falling in love with you.”
Her cheeks warmed, her inside fluttered, and she gave up fighting the growing smile that threatened to go from one ear to the other. Ava let him pull her in for one more long, passionate kiss. She ran her fingers through his soft beard, then pushed him back. She gasped for air. “I better go while I still can.”
Thursday evening, everyone was at the table for dinner except Ulysses who was on watch duty. After most of them had finished eating, Ava said, “I have an announcement to make before everyone gets up from the table.”
Charity squealed. “You and Foley are getting married!”
Ava gritted her teeth and looked up. “No, Charity. We’re not getting married, but thanks for embarrassing us.”
“For now,” Foley added.
“What?” Ava asked.
“We’re not getting married for now.”
Ava blushed, put her head on her hand and looked at the silverware on the table.
Foley attempted to clarify his statement. “We're not getting married for now, we don’t have any plans to get married in the immediate future; I’m just saying that it’s not something we’ve categorically ruled out.”
Ava looked up at Foley who’d managed to embarrass himself. “Thank you for the more than adequate explanation. Now, back to what I was saying.”
Ava relayed her stance on the apparent civil conflict brewing. She described her views, noting that Foley was on the same page as herself. She detailed the conversation she’d had with her father, and communicated the fact that while they did not see eye-to-eye on the matter, he would be taking a stand beside her in the confrontation. “I can’t sit back and let the theft of my country go unchallenged. We’re going to strike back. We’ll launch an insurgency campaign against the regime. We’ll blow stuff up, attack critical infrastructure, whatever we can to harass the enemy.
“Sam, you and Betty have been more than generous letting us stay here. I can’t ask you to turn a blind eye to our activities, so if you have the least bit of reservation, let me know and we’ll move on. We’ll take every precaution not to lead them back here, but if we’re found out, it could place you both in grave danger.
“James, you and Charity have to make your own decision. If it’s not something you want to be involved with, we’ll appreciate your support through prayer.”
Betty held her napkin over her mouth. Ava could only imagine the gaping view of Mrs. Hodge’s tonsils had it not been for the modesty offered by the thin serviette. Betty’s eyes showed her astonishment over the subject matter as they shifted to her husband. While not nearly as perplexed as his wife, Sam also seemed to be at a loss for words and particularly unsure how to address Betty’s bewilderment.
James and Charity gazed upon each other with a sense of fortitude. This, Ava did not expect. But even with the foreshadowing of the couple’s expression, Ava was amazed when James spoke.
His reply echoed the inner determination and certainty Ava had seen in his eyes. “Charity and I are with you.”
Charity glanced proudly at her husband, then turned to Ava and Foley. She nodded briskly in concurrence.
Betty’s eyes batted repeatedly with hesitation and fear. “We’ll have to talk this over, Ava. I’m just not sure we’re willing to put everything on the line.”
Sam’s expression lacked grit. He added nothing to what his wife had said but seemed all too satisfied with her response.
Ava said, “Like I said, I completely understand. Take all the time you need. If you need us to go, just say the word, and we’ll be out in twenty-four hours. And I assure you we won’t take any action toward preparing for war until we’ve left. The last thing I want to do is jeopardize the two of you or your property.”
“I appreciate that.” Sam’s shoulders slumped and he swallowed hard. “If you’ll all excuse me, I’m next on watch.” He stood up and left the table without looking any of them in the eye.
Ava and Foley cleaned up the dishes after supper.
“I’ve got next watch. I’m going to try to get some sleep before my shift.” Foley kissed Ava on the forehead.
“Okay, see you later.” She hung the dish towel on the handle of the stove to dry.
Ulysses walked into the kitchen and made himself a plate from the leftovers. “Do you want to take the fishing poles back to the river?”
“It’s pitch dark.”
He sat at the counter and began eating. “Best time to catch fish. We’ve got flashlights.”
Ava wasn’t sure about it being the optimum opportunity to reel in a big one, but she liked the idea of being alone with her father. “Okay. Let me grab my boots.”
After Ulysses finished eating, the two of them walked the short distance to the river where Sam had a bench set up for just such an activity. Ulysses used his headlamp to see while he affixed an artificial lure to Ava’s line. “You’re all set.”
“Great. What do I do?”
“You’ve never cast a line before?”
“The guy who was supposed to fill in for you wasn’t much of a father.”
“Right.” Ulysses took Ava’s pole. “Click the release then put your thumb on the line while you cock the lure back over your shoulder. Give it a good whip forward and take your thumb off the line.” Ulysses demonstrated. The lure dropped in the water several yards out. “Then give it a quick turn, and the line will lock.”
“Can I try?”
“Sure. Hold this one while I set up the other pole.”
Once Ulysses had the lure attached to the second pole, he exchanged it for the rod Ava was holding.
“Here it goes.” Ava attempted to replicate Ulysses’ cast. ZZZzzzzzzz. Plop! It didn’t go nearly as far as Ulysses’ cast, but she felt proud of the effort. She turned the handle on the reel but it immediately began spinning. “I did something wrong. What is it doing?”
“You’ve got a fish! Give it a good firm tug to set the hook.”
Ava jerked the pole up. “Like that?”
Ulysses bobbed his head from side to side. “If he’s still on there, then it’ll work.”
“Now what?”
“Reel him in. Nice and smooth.”
Ava did so.
Ulysses walked to the bank. He reached down and pulled the fish from the water. “Striped bass. These are good eatin’.” The scales of the two-foot-long fish glistened in the beam of Ulysses’ headlamp.
“I caught a fish! I had no idea it was this easy!”
“It’s usually not,” Ulysses confirmed. “I wouldn’t expect that to happen too often if I were you.” Ulysses removed the lure from the fish’s jaw and placed the bass in the bucket which he’d filled with water from the river.
Ava recast her line and waited anxiously for the next fish. She reeled in the line, recast, then repeated the procedure over and over for the next fifteen minutes. Her casting improved, but no other fish seemed interested.
“How did your dinner conversation go?”
Ava sighed. “James and Charity are in; which surpr
ised me. Sam and Betty seem a little freaked out by the whole thing; which didn’t surprise me.”
“Do you have any ideas on where to go if the Hodges don’t want to get involved?”
“No.” She reeled in her line with a slow, mechanical motion, betraying her thoughts which were miles away from the river and the fish therein. “I’ll ask Foley tomorrow. He must have some guys he used to shoot with. Maybe one of them will have some land where we can camp out in the trailer.”
Ulysses sent his lure flinging end over end toward the other side of the Pedernales River. “We can link up with some other like-minded people if need be. But that will likely mean that we’ll be under someone else’s command, who may or may not be qualified to lead.” His headlamp flashed in her direction, then back to the red-and-white bobber in the water. “We currently have five people. We can launch a fairly effective insurgency campaign with that many. Small is good. Small is harder to detect, easy to move around, and has a limited verbal footprint.”
“Limited verbal footprint?”
“Yeah, the fewer people you have on a team, the lower the odds are that somebody will say something to someone they shouldn’t.”
“Oh. Loose lips sink ships.”
“Exactly.”
Ava and her father spent two more hours at the bank of the river. Ava caught two more fish. Ulysses caught one. The catch would be sufficient for everyone to have a taste the next day for lunch.
Early Friday morning, Ava sat on the stairs of the front porch with Foley and Buckley. Buckley put his head in her lap. She scratched his ears. “You’ve been doing a great job out here by yourself, Buck. I know it seems like a thankless job, but we all appreciate it. You hear stuff we can’t.”
Ava took another biscuit from the pocket of her hoodie and fed it to her pet. His mouth smacked like a pair of galoshes mucking through puddles of mud.
Foley looked up from his phone to see why the dog was making such a racket. “Are you smuggling him bacon in those biscuits?”