“Yes, but this is important.”
“Important?” the balding man scoffs. “More important than finding someone to drive the sanitation truck?”
“I think so,” Dottie replies cautiously. “You have a guest.”
“Guest? We never have guests.”
“You do today. You asked to see her if she made it. Well, she made it.”
He glances over and sees Val standing next to me. His look becomes a look of astonishment. “Oh, my goodness. Why didn’t anyone tell me?” He brushes back his thinning hair in hopes it would improve his looks. “You should have told me,” he says crossly. “I would’ve gone to the service to greet her myself.”
“Sir,” Dottie replies. “We just found out she arrived a minute ago.”
He waves her off and tries to cover up his frustration by grinning through his clenched teeth. “It’s so good to finally meet you, Miss Star.” He reaches out to shake her hand. “I’m Governor Puck.”
That’s Governor Puck? I think to myself. He’s the leader of the Resistance? He doesn’t look too menacing; he looks kind of weak, kind of pathetic. He’s short, pudgy, a total opposite of Willenger. He’s dressed in a brown wrinkled suit with stains on his tie. White speckles cover his shoulders (not sure what that is.) His complexion is pale, but calling him pale would actually be an understatement. I don’t think he’s ever seen the sun. He even looks worse than the few out of focus pictures I’ve seen of him, but then I think, if I looked like him, I would want my photos to be out of focus too.
“I never expected to ever meet you face to face,” he laughs, his teeth yellow. “Well, maybe as your subjects, but not as friends,” he laughs again while Dottie giggles a little too eagerly. “Do you need some water?” he asks. “I know it’s hot down here, the AC is on the fritz.”
“It’s always on the fritz,” someone yells out from across the room. I’m pretty sure it was the older soldier who said it.
“Well what do you expect,” Puck chuckles. “It’s Utah. AC repairmen aren’t just walking around every day. Sure we could print out the parts we need using the 3D replicator to fix the air conditioner, but we can’t waste material on things like that. We have to use it for shelters, shelters, and more shelters. Have you met everyone? I know you met my sister, Dottie and her son Tommy.”
“It’s Thomas!” Gripes O’Malley. “Stop calling me Tommy.”
“Oh yeah,” Puck answers drolly. “I forgot… Thomas.” The governor sneaks a look at us and cracks a smile. He then goes on introducing everyone else seemingly without taking a breath. He talks a mile a minute, introducing a half dozen people or so that I’ll never remember. One guy is in charge of this, the other is in charge of that, there’s chief of something and a secretary of god knows what. I should be listening, but I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that if Dottie is Puck’s sister, then that would make Tommy O’Malley–Puck’s nephew.
Then, Puck stops talking, it’s so sudden that it breaks my train of thought and actually causes me to pay closer attention to him. I look at Puck as he walks over to that older grumpy soldier. Why would the Governor want to talk to him?
“And right here is my oldest and dearest friend,” Puck says, as he pats the older man on his back. “Meet Earl Caleb, the best soldier we have. We’ve gone through many a trials, haven’t we, Earl?” the older man nods with a blank expression on his face, but Puck smiles, showing off his yellow teeth again. “I trust him with everything I have,” Puck continues. “He could’ve, and maybe should be running Utah, but he’s taken a different course in his life, I’m thankful for that. He’s been loyal to me and does everything I ask. I even asked him to watch over my one and only nephew and to teach him the ways of the world. I wanted Tommy… excuse me… Thomas… to learn from the best.”
“Uh Orson?” Dottie interrupts. “The photographer is ready.”
“Huh, why?” Puck replies completely clueless.
“You had me book him in case Val made it through, remember?”
“Oh yes, for the billboards, of course. I’m sorry, Miss Star. We need to snap a few photos for PR purposes; I hope you don’t mind. Please, come with me.”
We follow him over to a small room already set up with lights and camera equipment.
“This is our studio,” Puck says proudly. “This is where we broadcast from when we’re able to hack into the billboards. Have you seen some of our programming?”
“Uh yeah, we have,” Val replies politely.
“You have?” Puck answers, sounding surprised. “That’s great. What’d you think? Did it um, convince you to join our side?”
“Well, I… I had other reasons to join.”
“Wonderful, wonderful. Hold that thought, Miss Star. Save it for the camera. Step over here.”
A dark haired unshaven man, holding a camera, directs Val to stand between the old red, white and blue American flag, and the flag of the Resistance (the one with the painted arrow pointing upwards). And right behind her, tacked up on a backdrop, is the map of how the United States used to look like when it stretched from ocean to ocean. It’s like the map I found at the abandoned gas station. Also tacked up are portraits of old white men with long white hair. I’ve seen those men before, they’re the founding slaveholders; at least that’s what we called them in school.
“Miss Star, move a little to your right,” the photographer says. “That’s it, get a little closer to Old Glory, but make sure you don’t block George Washington.” I don’t think Val knows who Old Glory is and which portrait is George Washington’s. And to be honest, neither do I, I’ve never heard of them before. “Oh that’s perfect. Don’t move.” The photographer snaps a few pictures.
“Okay, my turn,” Puck announces as he steps in. He stands right next to Val. He poses like he’s meeting her for the first time. He puts his hand over his mouth covering most of his face. He acts like he’s shocked to see her. Flash flash flash.
The photographer steps backward, inadvertently bumping into me. “I’m sorry,” he says, glancing up. He then does a double take. “What are you doing here?” he cries out in amazement.
“I’m here with Val.” I tell him.
“But you’re Evan Sparks,” he says. “Shouldn’t you be in this picture too?”
Puck, who’s sipping from a water bottle, spits out his drink. “What? Evan Sparks?” He turns to O’Malley, “Did you know about this?”
“Yes, but um… we were going to tell you, but–”
Puck holds his hand up to stop his nephew from talking any further. He puts the water bottle down and looks at me from head to toe. “Of course,” he whispers. “I see it now. You’re all grown up? You’re not that boy anymore, the one who changed the world.”
“No, no I’m not.”
“I see that,” Puck responds pensively. “This is quite a development.”
“Should we get him next to Miss Star?” the photographer asks. “It’ll make quite a picture.”
“Yes it will,” the Governor nods. “But first let me ask you something, Mr. Sparks?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“It’s about your parents.”
“What about them?”
“How well did you know them?”
“What are you getting at, sir?”
“Well, that story of them strapping that bomb to you, did it happen that way, or was that just a lie Willenger made up?”
“What? No, it really happened that way, I totally remember them doing it. I…” I pause; I don’t say anything further.
“Is everything okay?” Puck asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m… I’m...”
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just… I remember the bomb being strapped to me, that’s clear, but what I don’t remember is my parents being in the same room when it happened. But they had to be there, I’ve told that story a million times. But um… But… but, oh my God, I don’t know if they were there or not… that doesn’t make any sen
se.”
“It does if Willenger manipulated your L-Chip.”
“No, no way. My parents were murderers. Why are you asking me this, anyway? Do you know something I don’t?”
“I don’t know anything.”
“But you don’t think they did it, do you?” I ask.
“I have my doubts, Evan.”
“Doubts? How could you have doubts? Did you know my father?”
“I knew of him, but I never met him,” answers Puck. “He was a politician, a good one, on the rise,” he continues. “Your father practiced the kind of Islam that was sanctioned by the government, at least that’s what he led everyone to believe. He started a movement to defund Youth Nation and he was building support for it. Willenger needed to do something and do something fast. Then out of the blue, a story broke about his son with a bomb strapped to his chest. Well after that, it wasn’t hard for Willenger to frame your parents.”
“Oh my God,” I mumble. “I never knew.”
“I didn’t think you did. I always thought, ‘why would your father try to murder thousands of kids to stop Youth Nation?’ He would have known killing the kids would do the exact opposite of what he was trying to accomplish. It never made sense to me.”
I find a chair and collapse upon it.
Puck looks at me sympathetically. “That was then and this is now, Evan. It’s a new beginning. Having you and Valerie here is going to change things. Your defection will send shockwaves throughout the world. Your influence will unite the people to stand up and fight against the tyranny.” He reaches out his hand to help me up. “Now c’mon, let’s go take some pictures.”
“Why are these pictures so damn important?” I ask.
“Because the world needs to see you, and it needs to see Valerie too. They need to see that people can change, even people like you. We’ll hack into the network and get your pictures up on every Billboard across America. Then tomorrow you can give a speech about how and why you left Youth Nation. We’ll show it everywhere. I can see it now: ‘The Diva of Death, and The Boy Who Changed Everything are now Children of God!’ That’ll rankle Willenger real good, we’ll stick it to him bad.”
“No!” Val speaks up, cutting Puck off. “I’m not giving any speech.”
“Excuse me?” he mutters.
“I’m not doing it.”
“But you have to!” O’Malley butts in. “You’ve got to help us! You’ve got to do your part!”
“Tommy,” Puck interjects. “Settle down. We’re not going to force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
“I want to help, but not like the way you want,” Val replies. “Willenger doesn’t know I’m here, at least I don’t think he does. We out ran the camera drones; they didn’t see us cross the border. For all he knows, only Evan got away.”
“But don’t you want to get back at him?” Puck asks.
“You don’t know Willenger like I do. He’s obsessed with me. He’s not going to give up until he finds me.”
“That doesn’t sound like him,” Puck inquires. “I thought he was all about free love?”
“He doesn’t really believe what he preaches,” Val states emphatically. “He’s a jealous prick who hates to lose.”
“Well, whatever he is, we can protect you, Miss Star,” Puck insists. “You can live down here forever. He’ll never find you, this place is impenetrable.”
“No! I’m sorry, I can’t be in your pictures or give a speech or anything. I can’t do that. And neither can Evan. It’ll humiliate Willenger, and you don’t want to do that to him. Just let us disappear; let us live our lives like everyone else around here. It will be a lot safer for everyone, you’ve got to believe me.”
“But you owe us!” O’Malley whines. “You’ve caused thousands to die and now you don’t want to lift a finger to help us. How dare you.”
“Shut up Tommy!” the older soldier jumps in. “She doesn’t owe you jack shit!”
“Alright, alright, that’s enough!” Puck yells. “We’re not here to fight with each other. If Miss Star doesn’t want to do it, then she doesn’t want to do it. That’s the way it is. It’s her choice.”
“Thank you, sir. Thank you,” Val responds courteously.
“But Miss Star, if you do change your mind, you know where to find me.” He turns to Earl, the older soldier. “Take them up to the surface. Put them on the waiting list for an apartment. They can stay in the community shelter in the meantime. Hopefully they’ll have some place to live in a few months.”
“But Governor,” O’Malley whines again. “There isn’t enough room at the shelters, she’ll freeze and die, and we’ll never have an opportunity like this–ever!”
Puck ignores his nephew and exits rather hastily. His entourage quickly follows him out, leaving Val, Earl, O’Malley and myself alone in the studio.
“I hope you’re proud of yourself.” O’Malley says, turning to Val. “This was our best chance to beat Willenger and you let us down.”
“Go back to your Uncle,” Earl contends. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“I know more than you think.” O’Mally answers stubbornly. “I know we’re never going to win this war.”
“Where’s that positive attitude you had?” Earl chides. “You know, all that bullshit about how we’re thriving and surviving.”
“No wonder you’re not in charge anymore,” O’Malley jabs back. “You’re nothing more than a cynical washed up old man!”
Earl chuckles as O’Malley turns and storms out of the room. Then the older soldier looks at Val and me. “C’mon, you two. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Where?” Val asks. “You heard what Thomas said, there’s no room for us up there.”
“There is at my place.”
CHAPTER 59
Earl’s apartment is small, practical; it has that unmistakable gray 3D replicator look. His furniture is sparse, secondhand; similar to the furniture found in Blake’s Cave. Hot air blows in from the vents, making the room surprisingly warm. Even though light fixtures are mounted on the ceiling, they’re all turned off. Candles are lit instead giving off a nice warm glow. Before Earl went to go get food, he said to us, ‘Either you heat your house or turn on your lights, never both.’ They have to do that, so as to ration their electric power.
I walk out of the bathroom and see Val curled up on an old blue couch, wearing an old gray bathrobe that was probably white at one time. Her hair is wet as it drapes over her shoulders. She looks content as she reads a book. That’s right, she’s reading a book, with paper pages and everything. Soothing music plays from a portable speaker that sits on an end table near the couch. It’s nice; it helps to drown out the continuous chant from the Billboard, floating outside.
“I like your blue pajamas,” Val says, looking up from her book. “Very sexy.”
“Is that what they are? Pajamas? Earl just handed them to me when he left. I thought they were rags stitched together.”
“I think they’re wonderful,” she adds.
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
“How was your shower.” Val flashes a mischievous grin.
“Shower? You mean that bowl of water you already used? You’re calling that a shower?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” she giggles. “You could’ve used the community sonic shower down the road.”
“Yeah right, the line was a mile long.”
“Stop exaggerating.”
“I’m not.”
“Well, you look clean to me.” she says. “I’ll let you know if you start to stink.” She winks.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Enjoying what?” she grins. “That you don’t have clean water?”
“No,” I say. “You’re enjoying this way of life.”
“What’s there not to enjoy?”
“Well for one thing, Earl’s toilet is a bucket. He has to empty it out every day into a bigger bucket outside.”
“I know and everyone has to volunteer to drive the sanitation trucks. I heard Earl tell you that. I can’t wait till it’s my turn.”
“I don’t get you, Val?”
“We’re free, Evan,” she sighs blissfully. “We’re free from Willenger, free from Santa Verde, we’re free from it all.” She closes her eyes, looking very very relaxed. She’s happy, so I don’t persist.
I plop down on a torn up brown easy chair in the corner and sink into it. Is this leather? That’s right, they used to kill cows for furniture. That’s so weird, so barbaric. I lean back and, ‘oh my goodness,’ it’s so comfortable.
“See, it’s not all that bad around here,” Val laughs as she watches me enjoying the chair.
For some reason I’m annoyed she caught me liking it. I immediately get up and walk over to the bookshelf.
“Evan, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Is it your parents? That’s got to be quite a shock to find out they’re innocent.”
I don’t answer her; I don’t want to talk about them. I bend down to look at the books on the bookshelf. Brave New World, Fahrenheit 451, Atlas Shrugged are just a few of the titles.
“Have you heard of any those books?” Val asks, trying to engage me in a conversation.
“No,” I answer curtly.
“Yeah, me neither, I just grabbed this one off the shelf,” she says cheerfully. “It’s called, one thousand nine hundred and eighty four. Earl said it was famous.”
I pull out Fahrenheit 451 off the shelf and thumb through it. It’s just a lot of words. I start to close the book, but then something catches my eye in the hallway. There’s a crucifix, hanging on the wall. I would have missed it if I weren’t standing right here. It’s small, made of wood, intricately carved, showing all the detail of Jesus suffering. It hangs opposite of the door to Earl’s bedroom. It must be the first thing he sees when he gets up in the morning. Why would he want to look at something like that?
“When was the last time you actually saw a book?” Val asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“What?” I say, turning away from the crucifix.
“A book?” she answers. “When was the last time you saw a real book?”
Youth Patrol Page 31