by Stan Morris
“Respectfully Sir, yes, because it is the fastest way that I can think of to get them to accept your advice and guidance, but there would have to be conditions.”
“Conditions?”
“American governments are elected, Sir, not imposed.”
“Ah. Another good point. Let’s head down to the dining hall. I’ll have to think about this.”
The conversation at dinner that night was pleasant until Lieutenant Kennedy and Yuie got into another heated argument. He and Yuie began arguing back and forth about the morality of war. Yuie insisted that wars usually resulted from aggressive behavior by military machines. Kennedy countered, saying that wars fought by the United States were always defensive.
Finally, the Lieutenant demanded, “Name one war that America fought, in which we were the aggressors. Name one.”
“The Mexican-American War,” Yuie answered.
Kennedy opened his mouth, and then he shut it. Furious, he got up and left the dining hall.
“I guess you win that round,” Kathy said.
Yuie said nothing. She did not feel like the winner. Major Collins and Lieutenant Kennedy went to the track the next morning. Yuie and Mike were running. The officers stripped off their shirts and ran a lap. When they finished, Yuie and Mike were waiting for them.
“I love these high ankle moccasins Jean made,” Collins said.
“Yeah, they’re cool,” Mike concurred.
“LT, Yuie, I wonder if you would excuse us for a minute?” the Major said.
As Kennedy and Yuie walked away, Mike heard Kennedy sat to Yuie, “You were right about the Mexican-American War. It was a war of aggression.”
Yuie sighed. “And I see what you mean about the atomic bomb and the people who were still living under the Japanese occupation. That doesn’t mean that I like the military though,” she said stubbornly. Kennedy laughed.
When Mike and Major Collins were alone, the Major said, “I’ve thought about what you said. I have decided that I am willing to report to the government of Petersburg provided you agree to certain conditions.”
“Which are?” Mike asked.
“The Lieutenant pointed out that, in America, governments are elected not imposed, even by the most decent of people. I would be willing to report to an elected government.”
“I see,” Mike answered slowly. “And the other conditions?”
“Just one. I want the title of Chief changed to Mayor.”
“That’s certainly not a problem,” said Mike. “Those are the only two conditions?”
“Yes, Mike, but I do have a strong piece of advice for you,” the Major replied.
“What’s that?” Mike asked.
“Step down, Mike. Step down, and let someone else run the government for a while. It would be the clearest signal you could give to the rest of the people in this village that you mean it when you agree to change to an elected form of government.”
Mike looked up at the Major. He looked around the village that he had been instrumental in developing. He thought about the people he had protected. He decided.
“Major, the year before I came to this camp, my social studies class studied the Presidents. My favorite President is George Washington,” Mike said.
“Ah,” said the Major as he nodded his understanding.
Mike presented the Major’s conditions to the Council later that morning. Some were troubled by the implications. Some were enthusiastic. Only Yuie was adamantly opposed.
“It’s a trick,” she insisted. “You can’t trust them. We are doing just fine by ourselves. Mike,” she pleaded. “You’re the Chief.”
In the end, she was outvoted. They agreed to form an elected government and to elect a Mayor.
“One more thing,” Mike said. They waited for him to speak. “I am not going to be the Mayor. Someone else will take that position.”
There was a chorus of protests at his announcement, but he was firm.
“I’ve been your leader for two years now,” he said. “Now I’m asking you to follow me one last time. This is what I want.”
With glum hearts, the Council agreed to honor Mike’s decision.
Later, when one of villagers grumbled about it, another said, “We had to do it that way. He’s the Chief; at least for now.”
By the time that Meeting arrived, everyone had heard about the changes that were coming to the village of Petersburg. It was a quiet group of people that listened as Mike explained the situation. Then he announced that nominations for Mayor would be made the following night. The election would take place on July the Fourth. The following morning, Major Collins told Mike that he was leaving that very day.
“I’m leaving Lieutenant Kennedy as my liaison. But it will be better for Petersburg, if I’m not around when the nominations for Mayor occur. I assume that you have your choices in place, and that you know who will be elected?”
“Yes,” Mike admitted.
“Good. There’s nothing wrong with good old fashioned politicking,” said the Major. “Good luck, Chief, and come see me sometime. I promise, you will always be welcome. And by the way, Washington is my favorite President, too.”
Major Collins left the village. The guard was changing at the RV guard post, so he rode to the post, sitting behind the next guard. Collins hiked up Logging Camp Road to Davis Brown Farm Road, and soon after the sun went down, he arrived at the Brown Farm. Mary retrieved his rifle from her gun case, and Ralph promised to deliver Lieutenant Kennedy’s weapon to Petersburg. Mary offered him a late supper, and the Major gratefully accepted. Mary and Ralph were very interested to hear about the changes that were coming to Petersburg.
When Ralph heard that Mike would no longer be the Chief, he only grunted, but later that night he said to Mary, “Yeah, right. I don’t care who the new Mayor will be, Mike will always be the Chief.”
The next morning, Major Collins found that Mary had hitched her horses to the wagon. Ralph and the male members of the guard post were ready to go with him. He protested to no avail.
“Just for two days, you understand,” said Mary. “That will get you as far as the lake. It’s another fourteen or fifteen days walk from there, according to Jacob. You can catch fish in the lake, and then, with the food that you take in the wagon, you’ll be well stocked for your journey to your post.”
“You guys be careful,” Mary admonished Ralph and the male members of the guard post. She kissed Ralph goodbye, and she waved as they rode off. She kept a firm grip on Comet’s hand.
As the Major was having dinner at Davis Brown Farm, Mike opened the nominations for Mayor of Petersburg at Meeting.
“I nominate Howard,” Yuie said, just as Mike had instructed her, but she was glum as she said it.
“I second the nomination,” Jean said.
“I nominate Eric,” Desi said.
“Me?” Eric exclaimed.
“I second the nomination,” Ahmad said.
“What?” Eric said.
“I move that we close the nominations,” Rasul said.
“I second the motion,” Hector said.
The motion was voted on and passed, and the nominations were closed. The election for Mayor of Petersburg between Howard and Eric was officially set.
The month of May came to an end, and June began. The weather was warmer this year, and the grain was growing tall. Desi was also growing. John was worried about her, but Diana pronounced Desi fit and in good health. The baby was kicking. There were only two months to wait until she was due.
“It feels like two years,” Desi moaned.
When the fog had first arrived, some of the tribe had been as young as twelve years old. Now, no one was under the age of fourteen except Diego, Imee’s baby. He was growing, too. One day, Imee asked to talk to Ahmad. She stood before him nervously, carrying Diego. Her head was bowed, and she felt very embarrassed. She stared at her feet as she spoke.
“My son needs a father,” she said. “I need a man I can trust. I know I am not
a desirable woman, but I am strong, and I am willing to work. I would do whatever you want, if you protect me and protect Diego.”
Ahmad looked at her with pity filling his heart, and his voice was gentle when he spoke.
“I’m sorry, Imee,” he said. “But I am Muslim. When I take a woman, I want her to be of my own faith.”
“Imee,” he continued. “Talk to Rasul. He likes you. He likes you a lot more than you realize. Talk to him, Imee, and be sure to tell him that you will respect his religion and his culture.”
A few days later at Meeting, Ahmad saw his friend and the Filipino woman. Rasul had his arm around Imee’s waist, and he was holding Diego. Imee looked happy, and Rasul was smiling.
“Allah Akbar,” Ahmad whispered. He went to sit next to Yuie.
Yuie and Major Kennedy could not get along. They argued about the changes that were taking place in Petersburg. They argued about politics. They argued about the role of religion in society. Someone remarked that they would argue about which side of the sky was higher.
One day at breakfast, as Kennedy walked by, Yuie said, “Good morning, Linc.”
The Lieutenant stopped, and he scowled at her. “My name is Lincoln,” he said. “Not Linc.”
“Oh, sure,” she replied, pretending to be apologetic. “Sorry.”
He waited for her to say his name correctly. She returned to her oat cereal. Steaming, he walked away.
After that, Yuie called him, Linc, at every opportunity. No matter how many times he corrected her, she always pretended to forget.
Then one morning, after she called him, Linc, he replied, “Hey, Yu.”
Yuie sputtered. She looked around at her friends, expecting them to be outraged on her behalf. All she saw were covered grins. After that, the bickering only got worse between them. Everyone knew that things were coming to a head. Finally, he confronted her one morning after she had finished her laps. She watched him warily as he approached.
“Tell me the truth. Is it my race?” he asked her, his face stony.
“What?” she asked with genuine surprise.
“You heard me. Is that why you hate me? Is it the color of my skin?”
“You’re crazy. I don’t hate you,” she replied.
“Oh, right,” he replied bitterly.
“I don’t hate you,” she snapped, her anger rising. “I just despise you, because you came in here with your militaristic bullshit, and you took over. Are you happy? You got control. You military types always like to be in control. You get a kick out of it. Control people, and if they don’t do what you want, then kill them. Do you get a kick out of that too? Have you ever killed someone, Linc?”
“Yes, I have killed,” he responded hotly. “Are you happy now, Yuie? Are you satisfied, now that you know I’m a killer?”
“I knew it all along,” she spat, as she moved to within an inch of him. “Did you get a charge out of killing? When you saw their dead bodies, did you get a thrill?”
Her voice was shaking, and her face turned red. Kennedy grabbed Yuie’s shoulders, and he pulled her tightly against him onto her toes.
“What about you, Yuie?” he asked coldly. “Did you get a thrill when you killed that man? When you put an arrow into the man’s belly, did you get a thrill? You’re just as much of a killer as I am.”
In an instant, Yuie’s face went from red to white. Tears began flow down her cheeks. She tore herself out of his grasp and ran away, towards the narrow wooden bridge. Kennedy shuddered, feeling his heart pounding. As he waited for his body to calm down, he watched Yuie’s progress as she ran past the dining hall and past Chief’s Headquarters. Already, he knew that he would regret his harsh words. Yuie disappeared into the Lodge.
Yuie was trying desperately to hold back her tears, as she knocked frantically on the door of John and Desi’s room. When she was told to enter, she opened the door. She stood there, choking back sobs. Desi was sitting on the bed. When she saw Yuie, she simply held out her arms. Yuie flung herself at her friend and started to cry, loudly. Desi just held her and stroked her hair. After a while, Yuie’s tears tapered off. Still, she clung to Desi and sniffed.
“Lincoln?” Desi asked. She felt Yuie nod. Desi sighed.
“Okay, Yuie, forget the fact that he is a soldier. What’s really the matter?”
“I don’t know,” Yuie confessed. “It’s just that everything is changing. Mike’s not going to be the Chief. We have to have elections now. I just don’t want everything to change. I was happy with the way things were.”
Desi smiled. She took Yuie’s hand and placed it on her belly. “Feel,” she ordered.
Yuie felt, and after several moments her eyes brightened. “He kicked,” she exclaimed in excitement.
“He’s changing,” said Desi. “I’m changing. Do you really wish that we wouldn’t?”
Yuie laid her head against Desi’s stomach. “No,” she mumbled.
Desi stroked Yuie’s hair. “If the fog had never come, Yuie, we would still have to change. We were just kids. We still are, actually. Lincoln is like the change guy with a big sign. He’s a stranger, new to us. We’ve been changing all together, so we haven’t noticed those changes. He comes in, and we can see changes happening. But it’s not his fault.”
“I know,” Yuie said. She winced remembering. “I said some really bad things to him.”
“Hmm… I don’t doubt it. Sweetheart, I have to say this. Please don’t be mad.”
Yuie looked up at Desi. “What?” she asked.
“Time to grow up, Yuie.”
Yuie sighed. “I know. What should I do, so he doesn’t hate me?”
Desi laughed. “Oh, I doubt that Lieutenant Lincoln Kennedy could hate you if he tried,” Desi replied. “But, Tomboy, it might be time to do the girly thing.”
Yuie grimaced. “I’m terrible at that.”
“I know. It’s because you haven’t practiced. Well, it’s time to practice. Just like running. You have to stay in shape. How do you think I keep that knucklehead of mine in line?”
“All right,” Yuie replied gloomily. “What should I do?”
“Guys like to be praised, and they like to be touched. Especially by girls they like,” Desi told her.
“And I guess I should apologize,” Yuie said.
Desi shrugged. “Not really. At least, not at first.”
Yuie was surprised. “Why not?” she asked.
“Because, he won’t believe you. The two of you have given each other so many fake apologies, that one more won’t be believed. Wait until you’re sure that he trusts you. Wait until you’re sure that you believe him when he apologizes.”
Down at Chief’s Headquarters, Kennedy waited patiently and sadly as Howard finished some work. Eventually, Howard looked up.
“Hey, pal, what’s up?” he asked.
Lincoln sighed. “I made Yuie cry,” he confessed. “Sorry.”
Howard lifted his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t you be telling this to Yuie?”
“She wouldn’t believe me if I did,” the Lieutenant replied.
“So, what do you want me to do?”
“Actually, I came to see Mike. I know that he and Yuie are close. I thought that if I flung myself on his mercy, maybe he wouldn’t hang me.”
“Jeez, he hangs one guy, and no one ever lets him forget it,” Howard complained.
“Sorry. Joking is better than crying,” Lincoln responded.
“True. Look, it’s no use arguing with Yuie. She was born to argue. If you want to have a relationship with Yuie, you’ve got to change your strategy.”
Lincoln looked up. “Who said I wanted a relationship?” he asked grumpily.
Howard just stared back at him.
Lincoln coughed. “Well, just suppose, hypothetically I mean, that I did want a special relationship with Yuie. What do you mean, ‘change your strategy’?”
“When Yuie pushes, don’t push back. Change the subject. And give her gifts. Girls like to get gifts,” Howard said.
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“Girls like to get gifts?”
“Yes,” Howard said firmly.
“You’re only nineteen. How would you know?”
“Which one of us has a woman in his bed every night?” Howard asked, smirking.
“You got me there,” Lincoln admitted.
“Believe me. Keeping Jean happy would make a man out of anyone,” said Howard with feeling. “But anyway, I would say that the best thing you could do would be to run with Yuie.”
“How will that help?” Lincoln asked.
“Because, Yuie like’s to run. Because you’ll be with her, but neither of you will be talking.”
“Good point,” Lincoln acknowledged.
Kennedy was not brave enough to approach Yuie the next day or the next, but one morning when he saw her doing her stretching exercises, he walked down to the track. Yuie saw him coming, and she thought about beginning her run, but she stayed put. The closer he got, the more nervous she became. He sat down to exchange his boots for a pair of borrowed tennis shoes. Then he rose and stepped onto the track, close to her.
“Hi, Linc,” she said in a subdued voice, and then she added hastily, “I mean, Lincoln.”
He hesitated and then said, “It’s okay if you call me Linc, Yuie. My grandma use to call me Linc when I was a little kid. When I got older, I wanted to feel like a grownup, so I made everyone call me Lincoln. It’s silly, now that I think about it.”
“Um… I don’t mind, ‘Hey Yu,’ that much,” said Yuie. “It’s kind of funny.”
Lincoln was silent for a moment, and then he said, “Yuie, you were partly right about me. One day, when I was in Iraq, one of my people was killed in an ambush. We returned fire, and I killed two of the enemy. But my man, a father with two little kids back home, was dead. When I went and looked at the bodies of the enemy, I was glad that I had killed them. And I still am in a way. But I’m also sad that it changed me. I wish I had never killed anyone.”
Yuie could not speak. There was something lodged in her throat. She turned away from him, so that he would not see her moist eyes.
“Let’s run,” Lincoln suggested.
Together, he and Yuie ran two laps. It was a long way around the meadow. There were twenty acres of grain inside the track. One side ran close to the river, and Lincoln and Yuie passed some kids who were fishing. No one had ever caught anything, but people swore that they had seen fish in the river. Mary Brown had suggested creating a manmade pond in a wide spot, and then stocking it with trout from her pond.