Ava’s father had been an owner of a quite lucrative bread bakery on the outskirts of Amsterdam. The government took over his operation as it was considered a “necessity to the social and economic strength of the country and quite assuredly the whole European Union,” or so they told him. He and his few business partners were reassigned to lower management positions. In less than a year, the governments operators took the profitable business and turned into a pit that needed government subsidies to survive. Within a few months, the previous owners were taken out of management altogether and offered positions on the production lines. They had been blamed for mismanagement. Eventually, the government’s propaganda machine was claiming the company was mismanaged by the previous owners and was teetering on the edge of total collapse and because so, it had to be taken over as a necessity for the factory could continue to operate, only with government help, of course. The old owners became despised by people in their own town; there were even some of their employees who had been involved and victimized in the whole scandal who bought into the propaganda and hated them even though they had been there all along and knew the true sequence of events. All of the old owners left the country. Ava was in her last year of school when she had been uprooted and dragged along to the U.S.
“Oh Marcus, we are better off in America than we were in the Netherlands.”
Marcus noticed that bringing up the subject didn’t seem to bother her. “Better off because the U.S. government didn’t intervene in your lives so much? Didn’t used to anyways. Or, better off financially? Your father’s company distributed throughout all of Europe. I don’t see how they are better off here...unless he has another successful business here?”
“Better because the government doesn’t intervene like they did back home. No, they aren’t better off financially, but money isn’t everything. They are both working in retail. The government here isn’t taking away businesses like they did to my family in the Netherlands,” Ava replied.
“How not!?” Marcus burst out. “What about the two charities that got swiped away last week!?”
“Those were charities, not businesses. That money they had now will be given to those who need it by the government,” Ava said.
“Yes, they were charities. However, people work for those charities to manage and run them. Also, what about the people the charities were helping? Now, they are apparently out of luck. And, if those people had depended on the charities rather than the government, doesn’t that just now cause all those people to depend on the government too? The two charities’ employees will now have to find new jobs, but that is doubtful for most of them with the way the economy is and how many businesses are closing up shop. Once the government starts doing what it did last week, it only escalates the problems of government dependence. The government doesn’t produce anything to get money, they tax, and apparently they just confiscate now as well without any due process of the law. We’ll be seeing more and more of this kind of atrocious and shameful activity in the coming months, you just watch.”
Ava seemed to be done with the conversation. She muttered something Marcus could not understand and then turned back towards her desk to continue reading news briefs. He wondered if she ended the conversation because she felt defeated or if he had been too harsh with his tone. Marcus sat down at his desk and silenced ensued.
Their desks were the most exquisite and well-built in their department. They had been special ordered and hand-made. They were a deep red oak and rustic cherry wood with a fine finish that made their rear-section of the office floor stand out compared to the short cubicle partitions that occupied the rest of the floor. Ava and Marcus were the faces of the whole broadcast and were therefore treated with distinction. They were even privileged with having their workstations located away from the main entrance in the back of the office area with their own key card locked entry door from a back hallway. They received this privilege in the event that any visitors made it to the main hallway or in the department and past the receptionist. If they had been situated front-and-center they were sure to be consistently interrupted by visitors expressing their recognition and loyalty to watching the show. Their two desks sat across from each other facing opposite directions. Kenneth had planned it as such since the goal was to show both anchors on screen as good friends that always acted professionally. Ideally, sitting next to one another during the work day up until the broadcast would help them to get along. Had they been separated in their own offices, they would also not be an example to their fellow co-workers. Being situated amongst everyone else in the department partially forced them to get over and not publicize any differences they might have. It worked for a few years until they began to notice their differences in personal beliefs.
They were, however, not close friends. They remained cordial to one another. They even would spend time together outside of work at gatherings thrown by co-workers or themselves or local events they both happened to be in attendance at. They considered each other not much more than acquaintances. Mainly long-time co-workers. They both recognized their strong belief differences, which, for one reason or another kept them from opening up to each other as long-time friends would have after this many years of knowing one another.
The conversation they had just ended had been the deepest beyond the surface they had spoken to each other since the first year of working together. It was Marcus’s observation that Ava had held some conflicting views with herself. He noticed over the years that even with her disgust of what happened to her family and many others in Europe, she had supported and voted in favor of steps that would progress the United States in the very same direction that had been the collapse of Europe. He had tried over the years to get her to see the contradiction in thinking, but she seemed to want to remain in the contradiction.
Marcus decided he wanted to end the conversation on a good note. He rotated in his chair back towards Ava.
“So, how’s that boyfriend of yours? Are we going to get to meet him sometime soon?”
“Oh,” Ava began and then turned to face Marcus, “he’s pretty busy with his company down in the financial district. I doubt he’ll try to make time to come around here. I’m sure he’ll join me at the next company gathering.”
“Well, good. Can’t wait to meet the lucky guy,” Marcus returned.
Ava smiled and turned back to her desk. Now satisfied with how the conversation ended, Marcus turned back around.
Marcus sat at his desk the rest of the morning and into the afternoon reading over news briefs he and Ava were to cover in the evening’s broadcast. His stomach prompted him to look up at the set of clocks on the wall. It was a large, five-foot by six-foot digital panel that kept New York time at the top-center and then had a dozen or so other large city times from around the world that would cycle through another set of cities every five or six seconds. Marcus used the clock often as a time-waster. He would try to count out the seconds to figure out if the display changed cities every five seconds or six seconds. While doing so, he often came up with an idea for what to cover in his ‘Moment with Marcus’ segment. This time, he only looked at the panel briefly to notice it was a few minutes after 2 p.m., which meant it was well over an hour after he normally went to lunch. He knew his stomach would completely occupy his thoughts until it was satisfied.
*****
Marcus sat in the corner of the cafeteria that was situated in the lobby near the main entrance of the WWNL building. He didn’t eat there too often. Today he had not felt like walking anywhere out of the building to the slowly diminishing selection of restaurants that peppered the street. There were many he liked to frequent that were no longer in operation. His stomach dictated that he stop here as it was the closest location he deemed to have decent food. Marcus stared across the mostly-empty dining area. It was late for lunch and too early for dinner so the crowds were elsewhere. He noticed the visible cold outside as he glanced out of the large windows that made up one entire wall of the cafeteria. Pe
ople quickly passed by at their New York pace, covered in large coats and scarves and woolen hats. It had been unusually cold for early October during the last couple of days in the northeastern states. Marcus looked forward to the following week when temperatures were forecasted to return to normal.
Marcus was deep in thought while he ate. He pondered whether or not he should challenge Kenneth’s threat with his topic for the closing segment later on in the evening. He had numerous subjects he could speak on, especially after reading the morning briefs that had been piled on his desk. One, in particular, had caught his attention. It was a report about a quiet decision made in Congress that had been sped through a vote in both the House and the Senate the previous evening. The decision gave the government the power to manage private businesses that were considered by a congressional committee to be an infrastructure necessity. It appeared to Marcus that the government was posturing for more take-overs like they did with the charities. He thought of pointing out the decision to Ava but figured the “I told you so” wouldn’t be well-received. He knew she’d be reading the same brief soon enough anyways. Marcus wondered what businesses would be considered an infrastructure necessity. Looking down at his plate he thought food-distribution would probably be one of the ones taken over.
Then it’ll all be bland bread and processed government cheese.
He wondered if he was becoming too cynical with everything going on in the government. Perhaps all these politicians over the years that led us to this point had good motives and morals. But why lead us this far when you see it’s only causing destruction? Why work so hard to recreate historically failed systems? Marcus concluded that he was not a cynic. A realist acknowledges the facts and pays attention to history. He also concluded that he’d lay low for a couple of weeks before he would ‘tell it how it is’ in his segment again. There were sure to be plenty of developments to talk about in a couple of weeks. With that thought, he gathered his tray and made his way through the maze of empty tables and chairs towards the exit. He placed his tray on the trash bin near the cashier’s station.
“Have a good day, Mr. Braden,” the clerk said cheerfully.
Marcus only slightly recognized the clerk but understood that the young man probably recognized him from his show rather than his attendance in the cafeteria, which was rare. He returned a kind response and a wave and strolled briskly to the elevators. On the journey back to his desk, he made no acknowledgment of anyone or anything around him. He remained inside his own head contemplating the same question, over and over.
Why lead us this far in the same direction when it’s only causing destruction?
Chapter Two
October 2036
The early morning fall air was crisp and cold. Leaves were well into their transformation to yellows and rustic oranges. Will began packing the few items he had brought along. He meticulously rolled his sleeping pad as tightly as he could. He was pressing out any sign of air with one knee while supporting himself with the other against the frosted grass. He then moved on to his sleeping bag and rolled it up in the same manner.
Will had chosen this particular weekend to be alone. The gloomy news of the state of the country that seemed to be around every corner permeated into his mind and drew him into a somber mood. Will needed the time alone to shake off the mood before interacting with anyone. He threw some of his camping gear into his Jeep and took off into the Sierra Nevada mountains early on a Saturday morning. It was his favorite hideaway. Less than an hour drive from his hometown of Oakhurst, California, Will would park his rusting earth-toned Jeep Cherokee off a lesser traveled dirt road not too far from the well-beaten, paved pathway that led to Yosemite National Park. He would slide the Jeep in between two tall pines he easily recognized and would then drive further in about half of a mile, dodging trees within a few inches of his side mirrors and leave his Jeep out of sight from anyone passing by on the road. From there he would hike a few miles deeper into the woods and up a small mountain. The hike would take several hours to reach his destination. He always made his camp in the same location.
In previous stays on the mountain, Will had dug and built up a fire pit next to a large fallen pine tree that he could sit on to enjoy the warmth from the fire. In one direction it held a perfect view of the snow-capped peaks of Yosemite in the distance. In the other direction, he could see down into the lower foothills and then, on a clear day, beyond into the valleys of central California. He kept this spot a secret because as soon as he left the dirt road he had never seen anyone else nor a trace that anyone had been there other than himself and he gladly planned on keeping it this way. The alone time out in the rawness of nature reenergized him.
As Will picked up and swung his pack around his side and onto his back, he turned and looked up at the high peaks. He thought to himself that he would not return again to his hideaway until the following spring. He had other locations he preferred for his wintertime outdoor activities. He continued his pause and scanned over the mountains in the distance, admiring their beauty. He let out a sigh and noticed the moisture from his breath in the air, swirling outwards and fading away. He turned back to his camp and did a quick scan to be sure nothing was left behind and then started his trek down the mountain to return to his Jeep.
Will enjoyed the journey down just as much as he did hiking up. His eyes would be darting back and forth discovering new mysteries hidden amongst the trees with each adventure he took to his secret location. He would imagine what these woods were like several hundred years back. Maybe even several thousand years back. Were there tribes that hunted here? Was this even a thick-wooded mountain back then? Will always thought he belonged in a different century, perhaps when new settlers were pioneering across the west. He wondered how well he would have managed knowing how many had perished on their journey westward in search of fortune.
Will’s hunger began to control his thoughts as he rounded one of the final switchbacks coming off of the mountain. All he had brought for his breakfast was a granola bar that he had eaten earlier when he began to pack up his camp. He always brought a spare as emergency food if he got lost or stranded from an injury. He assumed getting lost would never happen since he knew the woods so well from exploring. However, some of the most experienced outdoorsmen become prey to injury from unexpected falls or even wildlife. He chose not to eat his spare granola bar as this was not an emergency. The several hours it took to climb up was cut in half on the descent. He had figured if his timing was correct, and it usually was, he would arrive home in time for a late lunch. For Sunday lunches his mother usually made a large pot of hearty chicken and rice soup and grilled-cheese sandwiches for the whole family and many times a house full of guests as well. His mother, Beth, knew he would be returning from his camping trip around that time. The thought of the food made his stomach ache and grumble. He decided to think of other things to take his mind off of the food.
His thoughts began to fall back to the state of the country and his situation. Even though it was the depressing news is what drove him out into nature, spending some time out allowed him to keep a neutral mindset on the situation now. He thought of the chain of events over the past few years and how it had molded his life. Will had been packing his things in his college dorm room after finishing up his sophomore year when he received a call. His uncle broke the news to him that his father had been killed in a car accident. His father had been a long-time head pastor at a small church in Oakhurst. His father had taught him everything. Will knew he was basically a clone of his father. It was after the funeral that Will drove up into the mountains with his dress slacks and shirt and black tie still on. That was the first time he came upon his secret camping spot. Will’s father had always known about the somber moods that would bring Will down for a time because he also dealt with them. Many times his father gave him the advice to drop everything and go out into the wilderness to get rid of the mood, knowing how much Will enjoyed the outdoors.
Will had every in
tention of returning to college for his junior year, however, the economy determined differently for him. His father had kept a life insurance policy that allowed them to keep their home that was nestled on a few acres outside of town. However, Will’s mother’s income from working in a local gift shop that featured all-things Yosemite National Park was not enough to pay for the rising tuition costs. Will had spent a week later in the summer in San Jose looking for a job to pay for tuition on his own but found many of the retail businesses around his campus had recently become vacant or couldn’t afford to take on an employee. They weren’t able to survive an economic downturn caused by major tax increases and forced costs by the government, especially when most of their clientele were students who were home for the summer. The few offers Will received were very low paying, under-the-table, part time jobs that even if they could have covered tuition, they would have never covered his living expenses as well. The work situation in his hometown of Oakhurst quickly mirrored the bigger city area of San Jose. Will had no choice but to stay living at home. He was now twenty-four years old and there was no end in sight to the economic turmoil that plagued the country and college could not be seen on the distant horizon. Will eventually came up with the idea to be a handy-man around town. It didn’t pay all that well but it helped he and his mother get by. He became a jack-of-all-trades when it came to repairs. He did carpentry, fixed household appliances, plumbing, and whatever anyone asked him to fix. He could usually figure out some make-shift way to fix something.
From Within Page 2