And even the old man who called himself the Prophet predicted dire things would happen if people persisted in worshipping Ben Raines.
There were the Woods Children who lived in the timber, and they, too, worshipped, and on occasion, fought alongside the Rebels. They would never be convinced that Ben Raines was anything other than a God.
And so many more. . . .
“Will you do that, Ben?” Chase asked.
“No.”
“I’m thinking of the children, Ben.”
“So am I, Lamar. No. I’m going to take the kids, Lamar. I will not have them growing up to be like their parents. But the kids have to see that their parents are fools. They have to be shown, personally shown, that their parents are ignorant, and will never make any attempt to climb out of that dismal quagmire.”
Chase sipped at his water and was silent in thought for a few heartbeats. He lifted his eyes. “Ben, that’s tougher than just seizing the children.”
“Yes, I know. But there is a reason for it, too, Lamar. I’m thinking that some, some of the parents will be so shamed by their ignorance, they’ll learn just in order to keep their kids.”
“And some of the parents will be so angry they’ll try to kill you, Ben.”
“They’ve tried before, Lamar.”
“All right, Ben . . . we’ll play it your way. Hell, my suggestion would just get us into a fight as quickly as your way.” He sighed. “I’ve got years on you, Ben. I’m an old man. I never understood a government who would allow children to grow up ignorant.”
“Oh, I can answer that, Lamar.”
“I just knew you could.” Lamar’s reply was as arid as Death Valley. “Well, don’t just sit there, elucidate.”
“Don’t play the fool with me, Lamar. We’ve been together for too many years.”
Lamar sighed deeply. “Problem is, Ben . . . I leaned that way myself for a good many years. My heart just broke over the plight of the poor, the homeless, the needy.”
“And many of them did need help, Lamar. We’re in agreement there.”
“Finish it, Ben.”
“There were some in our government who wanted a classless society. Unfortunately, while it looks good on paper, it’s a lie. Anyone who doesn’t believe there are classes of people is either very naive or a damned fool! But there was certainly no law that said a person couldn’t climb out of their predicament. Thousands, millions, did. The problem was, and to many people, I suppose, still is, there were no guidelines to go by. It’s like a good cop’s hunch when he looks at a building and thinks, ‘Something’s wrong in there.’ He knows it, or he feels it, but under the law, he’s powerless to act. Same with what used to be called pornography. Remember the Justice who said that he couldn’t define it, but he knew it when he saw it?”
Lamar chuckled and leaned over, pouring a cup of coffee. “You never had any political aspirations, did you, Ben?”
Ben shook his head. “Not a one, Lamar. Oh, I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t, on occasion, think what I might do if I sat in that high office. But running for office . . . hell, no! No way.”
“Since we’re waxing philosophical, Ben . . . why not?”
“Run for office?”
“Yes.”
“Hell, Lamar!” Ben laughed. “I was an ex-soldier for hire. A mercenary, if you will. I fought in brush wars all over Africa. Before that, I was a spook for the Company. Nothing more than a government hired gun. Politically, I was labeled an ultra-right-winger . . . which, to some extent, was true. The press would have destroyed me. You know as well as I do that a good segment of the press had set themselves up as the so-called Guardians of the American Way. Ah, hell, Lamar!” Ben waved his hand. “Don’t get me started. We got a long day ahead of us.”
Dan had been listening at the door, not eavesdropping, for both Chase and Ben had seen him. He stepped inside and took a seat. “Now we’ll have a quorum,” he said with a grin.
“Oh, Lord!” Ben rolled his eyes. “The English have arrived.”
“Do continue, general,” the Englishman urged him. “In retrospect, what could have been done to prevent the world from collapsing?”
“An astute awareness on the part of the American people would have helped. But that never happened. We were too busy merchandising ourselves into financial and moral bankruptcy.”
All of his staff and half a dozen civilians from the Morriston area had stopped work and were listening outside the door.
Many of the Rebels were in their twenties; too young to be fully cognizant of what had happened before the Great War. One day there was a working government with everything looking good, the next day, millions around the world were dead.
Ben had started to write the history of what had happened. He’d had no thoughts of becoming a leader of anything. But since he was a well-known writer and sometimes commentator, whose views were hard-conservative, when the word got around that he was still alive, a movement grew to put Ben Raines in charge. For months Ben had ducked those people.
It had been Lamar Chase, among a few others, who had convinced him to grab the reins of leadership; shortly afterward, the Tri-States had been formed.
And the legend of Ben Raines had begun to grow, spreading all over the battered and shattered land once known as the United States of America.
And the people flocked to Ben Raines and his Rebels by the thousands; only about half of those would or could live under the Rebel philosophy. The rest would wander off and never be heard from again, falling victim to the ever-growing bands of outlaws and warlords and filth that lurked all over the ripped-apart nation.
And among those people who filled the hall outside Ben’s office was Billy Bob Rockingham. He tried to blend in with the crowd, to listen, and to learn.
Ben refilled his coffee cup and leaned back in his chair. “I think many of the American people got exactly what they deserved.”
“Why, general?” Dan asked. The ex-British SAS officer was a highly educated man, and like so many other Rebels, his quest for knowledge had never been extinguished. And perhaps that was one of the keys to fitting in with the Rebel movement. One’s mind could not remain stagnant or in neutral.
“Because this nation was built on the beliefs in liberty and freedom; the pursuit of happiness; the right to be safe and secure in one’s homes and possessions. But a certain group, or groups, always fought to take those rights from us. There were people who said it was wrong to defend oneself and one’s possessions with a gun; they placed the rights of criminals above the rights of the law-abiding and taxpaying citizens.”
“Why, general,” a woman spoke from in the hall, “didn’t the American people do something about it?”
“Because,” Ben smiled, “never in the history of the world has a well-fed, well-clothed, and well-housed general populace ever risen up in armed revolt. And most of us were all of that.
“The nation either had to get mentally tough, or die. You all know what happened. Thinkers, those who weren’t overcome by their own purported brilliance, saw the end coming . . . but nobody would listen to them. Toward the end, though, there were some people who opened their eyes to what was taking place around them. But they went about doing something about it in the wrong way. They became very vocal survivalists and founders of hate groups. And those types of groups always attract the wrong types of people. So, Big Brother stepped on them like bugs. Rightfully so. They blamed people not of their race or color or creed for all the nation’s woes and ills. But the nation was rotting from within. We were given little direction by our elected officials. The machinations of government and of law became too ponderous. Many people just quit caring. I was one of those who dropped out in total frustration.
“Ours was a land filled with hypocrisy. We wanted the very best people to run for public office. But the best people never ran, for no one wanted their guts ripped out by the press, so consequently, the best people never sought the higher offices.
“And what di
d I do? Not much. Sat back and wrote my books and laughed while the world went to hell in a bucket of shit.
“And so here we are. Without a stable government anywhere in the world, that I know of. We — the Rebels — are the only group of people in this land who are trying to restore the nation to at least some of its greatness. I don’t know if we can do it. But I will tell you all this: as long as there is breath left in my body, I am going to try. And we begin right here.” Ben thumped the desk. “Here is where we start obliterating ignorance and prejudice. Right here is where we begin restoring the work ethic. There is no room for troublemakers. No room for ignorance. No room for those who want something for nothing. The door is closed to them.”
John Simmons stepped into the doorway. “There was a cross-burning last night, Ben. Do I have to tell you where?”
Ben stood up and picked up his Thompson. “Show me, John. You ride with me. Dan, get some people together.”
“Yes, sir,” the Englishman said. “Going to get interesting, general?”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
EIGHT
Billy Bob sat on the steps in front of the old two-story bank building, thinking about the General’s speech. Made sense . . . as far as Billy Bob could understand it. He had missed a whole bunch of words. And, he realized, that wasn’t nobody’s fault ’cept his own.
Billy thought that no man had the right to be dumb. There was some, like his brother Bubba Willie, who couldn’t help it. But if a person had a right-workin’ brain, he owed it to everyone around him to get some learnin’.
And Billy also knew the shit was about to hit the fan down where he lived . . . and he knew he wasn’t goin’ to live there much longer. He’d get his families and move out. Get closer to town so’s he could maybe go to a school for grown-ups. And he knew something else: he wasn’t about to go back near home on this day. General Raines was fixin’ to kick some ass.
Ben jerked Hiram off the front porch and tossed him to the ground, knocking the breath out of the man. A whole gaggle of kids was peeking out of windows, out from under the house, from behind trees and even from behind and inside the outhouse.
Ben waited until Hiram had crawled to his feet. The man stood before Ben, so angry he was trembling with rage. “Whut for you do that to me, Raines?”
“Because you’re a stupid fool! Among other things. All right, Hiram. I’m going to try one more time. Just . . . one . . . more . . . time. Hear me well. A new day is upon us, Hiram. We’re all starting over. Fresh.”
“Under your gawddamn rules, right, Raines?”
“You got it, Hiram.”
“Maybe I don’t want to play by your rules, Raines?”
“Then get out. But the kids stay. Just like I told you before.”
About a hundred people had gathered, leaving their homes and following the Jeeps and trucks when they barreled past.
“No more cross-burnings, Hiram. Unless it’s Halloween, if I catch anyone wearing a sheet, I’m going to shoot them on the spot.”
“Gawddamn you, Raines! They’s a whole passel of niggers in Morriston that’s armed up and talkin’ revolution. Talkin’ about killin’ whitey and makin’ this place some sort of New Africa.”
“Oh, I’ll get to them, Hiram. Bet your boots on that. And I’ll treat them the same way I’m treating you.”
“What do you mean, sir?” a man asked, stepping out of the crowd. “Do you mean you’re comin’ down just as hard on coloreds as you is on us?”
Ben turned to face him. “Nobody will be treated differently, mister. We’re all going to obey the same set of rules.”
The man looked at Hiram. “But Hiram, you said he was just pickin’ on us.”
“It is the truth!” Hiram hollered. “Y’all cain’t see that Raines is playin’ us for fools, that’s all. Hell, he was onest married to a nigger gal. Don’t believe me, ask him.”
“Is that true, general?” the same man asked.
“That’s what she told me. She called herself a zebra. Her father was white, her mother was black. So what?”
“What happened to her?”
“Government troops killed her during the battle for the Tri-States, back in ’ninety-eight. She was pregnant at the time,” he added.
“The Klan’s been strong down in this area for a hundred years, general,” a man called out of the crowd.
“It just ceased to be,” Ben said flatly. “And the same is going to apply for any black-militant, white-hating group. I told you, we’re starting all over. Get it through your heads.”
Hiram stuck out his chin. “You know what you is, Ben Raines. You a commonist. That’s what you is. A damn commonist.”
Ben smiled. “Are you attempting to say communist, Hiram?”
“That’s whut I jist said. Commonist!”
“No, Hiram. A communist is a member of the Communist Party. There is no such word as commonist. A commoner is a person not of the nobility. Do you have all that straight now, Hiram?”
A child laughed. Hiram spun around and picked up a stick of wood, drawing back to throw it at the girl.
Ben jerked the wood out of the man’s hand and spun him around. “She was laughing because you were made to look foolish, Hiram. And when people are made to look foolish it is usually because they are. If you would rather not look foolish, why don’t you learn to speak English and get some education.”
Without waiting for Hiram to stop sputtering long enough to reply, Ben walked to the young girl, about nine years old, and pretty. Kneeling down, Ben smiled at her. She shyly returned the smile.
“What’s your name?”
“Betsy Ann.”
“Well, Betsy Ann. Are you looking forward to going to school Monday morning?”
“No, sir.”
“You’re not! Why? Don’t you want to learn about all sorts of things?”
“Yes, sir,” she said with the honesty of a child. “But Grampaw Hiram says that book learnin’ is all a bunch of nonsense.”
Ben smiled. “Your Grandpaw Hiram looked and sounded a little silly a minute ago, didn’t he, Betsy?”
She grinned. “Yes, sir.”
“If he had him some book learning, he wouldn’t have looked so silly.”
“You learn that from books?”
“You can learn all sorts of things from books, Betsy. You can learn everything from Azygous and Aye-Ayes to Zebus and Zwitterions.”
She laughed out loud. “You’re funnin’ me!”
“No, I’m not, Betsy. Have you ever seen moving pictures?”
“Pitchers that move?”
“Pic-tures, Betsy. Say it.”
“Pick-tures.”
Ben laughed. “That’s close. Ever seen one?”
“No, sir. Ain’t that black magic?”
“There is no such thing as magic, Betsy.” He started to explain about illusions, but didn’t want to confuse the child. “Someone who believes in magic is not very smart.”
“I’m gonna go fetch Old Lady Pauly!” Harry Larry Rockingham shouted. “Show you sumthang, Ben Raines. She put a hoo-doo on you.”
Ben laughed at him. “OK. Go get her.”
Harry Larry was gone in a rattle of fenders and a cloud of smoke.
Ben looked at Betsy. Then he glanced at a Rebel in Dan’s command. Becky Carver. Her husband was an intelligence officer, and they were childless. He pointed at Becky and then pointed at Betsy. Becky grinned and nodded her head.
“Betsy, how’d you like to spend the weekend in town with that lady?” He pointed toward Becky. “I might be able to arrange for you to take a ride in an airplane. Would you like that?”
“Ooohhh, yes. Ifn it’s all right with my dad.”
“It’s all right with him. Believe me, it is, child. I am absolutely totally positive he isn’t going to open his mouth about it. You go over to Becky. You’ll like her. She speaks English and takes baths.”
“Gawddamn you, Ben Raines!” Hiram hissed his hate. “You snake-snea
ky bassard!”
Ben just grinned at him.
Ben turned to face the crowd of adults. “How many of you adults believe in black magic . . . voodoo and hoodoo?”
About two-thirds of those present raised their hands.
Ben turned to face the children. “Your parents are wrong. They’ve been teaching you nonsense. Would you believe me if I could prove it to you?”
The youngsters all solemnly nodded their heads in the affirmative.
Ben looked at Hiram. “Bring on your voodoo woman, Hiram.”
Ashen-faced, shaking with rage, Hiram could but nod his head. “She’ll be here. And when she come, she’s a-gonna put a hex on you.”
“Horseshit, Hiram!”
The crowd of kids giggled.
Ben turned his back to Hiram and walked off to stand beside Dan. “Here’s what I’m going to do, Dan. And may the Lord God in Heaven forgive me.”
The Englishman arched one eyebrow.
“This old woman deals with dried frogs and lizard legs and snakeskins, Dan. But you can bet your ass she’s anything but ignorant. She’s made a living off of these ignoramuses for years. And you can bet your boots she’s heard all the rumors about me, too.”
Dan smiled. “I love it, general.”
“Let’s see if it will work.”
Harry Larry came roaring back, a woman dressed in black sitting beside him. The men helped her out of the truck. She looked at Ben and her face paled.
“She’s heard,” Dan whispered. “We should charge admission for this, general.”
Ben stifled a laugh and walked toward the voodoo woman. She held up a hand. “I mean you no harm, Ben Raines. None at all.”
The crowd hissed and drew back.
The kids were all knotted up together in fear.
Hiram was looking at the two of them, not understanding what in the hell was going on. Old Lady Pauly had never behaved like this before.
“I’m told you can put your magic to work on me, lady.” Ben raised his voice so all could hear. “All right, shake your voodoo stick at me. Come on.”
She shook her head. “I can put no hex on you, Ben Raines.”
Danger in the Ashes Page 7