Islam Rising

by Johnny Jacks

  “He often sits in his sunroom, reading or working on his laptop. Marcie goes over and chats with him. He seems to enjoy it, and I can watch her from here. I’m sure he misses his daughter. Remember, the poor baby died in that dreadful accident. He gives Marcie the attention she doesn’t get from Larry. She likes it when he occasionally babysits her when I’m caught short.”

  Jillian cocked her head, sisterly sarcasm in gear. “First, you said Marcie talks with him. Now, you say he’s babysitting. Isn’t it dangerous to have a strange man babysitting your daughter? Is Larry okay with this?”

  Shannon snatched her purse from the counter. “Larry couldn’t care less.” Shannon broke eye contact. “I trust Grayson.”

  “So, you sit here where they can’t see you and watch them bonding, and trust the man without question. Next, you’ll tell me you get a glass of tea and pretend to be with them.”

  “Shut up!”

  “No I won’t! So now you don’t hate cops?”

  “They’re the scum of the earth.”

  “You need to work on your acting skills. I never understood your animosity toward cops, and I sure as hell don’t understand this reversal.”

  Shannon flinched. “You aren’t around cops. Most of the white cops I see in court are arrogant racist asses. They use their power to treat people of color like trash. The ‘Black Lives Matter’ movement started because a white cop killed a young black man with his hands up shouting, ‘Don’t shoot!’”

  “Love you, sis, but, like Mom and Dad, you’re brainwashed with liberal junk. We’ll research the facts one day. Right now, tell me why you changed your mind about the hunk next door.”

  Shannon flipped off the lights. “He’s changed since I knew him. It is peculiar, though; he’s become one of those doomsday idiots. I let him know in no uncertain terms not to discuss that drivel with Marcie.”

  “I’ve read about the prepper movement. There’re millions of them, regular people worried about what they see coming down the pike. Maybe I’ll introduce myself and ask how it works.”

  Shannon opened the kitchen door. “Free world. As if you needed my permission.”

  Jillian tossed her keys back on the counter. “Get the hell out of here and find your not-so-adorable husband. I’ll stay with Marcie until you get back.”

  “He’s probably smashed by now.”

  “Take your time. I’ll hang out in the kitchen in the dark, get a glass of ice tea, and watch your oh-so-adorable neighbor.”

  “Don’t go causing trouble. Stay away from him.”

  Jillian smiled. “I’ll not take him from you, Sissy. But another woman might if you don’t dump lily-livered Larry and wiggle your fanny on the front porch instead of hiding it behind the kitchen window.”

  “Take Marcie with you when you go over there. And don’t tell me you weren’t going to. She’s on Melodie’s porch with her girlfriends.”

  ~~~

  Grayson opened the front door to find Marcie with a woman he’d noticed at Shannon’s house on occasion. “Grayson, this is my Aunt Jillian, Mom’s sister. Mom told her about you being a prepper.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jillian. Come in, please. Let’s get you two something to drink and sit in the sunroom to chat.”

  ~~~

  Shannon held Larry up on one side and the bartender on the other as they walked him to the car.

  “Shtop! I…gotta…baaarrrff.”

  Experience had taught them to step back when Larry threatened. He fell to his knees on the sidewalk and emptied his stomach. George lifted him as he was about to fall into his own vomit. “Come on, Mr. Fisher, just a few more steps.”

  “I’m sorry, George.”

  “Don’t worry, Ms. Fisher. I’ll hose the sidewalk. Part of the job.”

  “Lucky you.” She handed George a nice tip after he clicked Larry’s seatbelt.

  “I wanna deevorsss.”

  “You’re drunk, Larry.”

  “So wat. I shtill wanna deevorsss...bich, filing tomoorow.”

  When he was drunk, Larry stated what his sober mind didn’t have the guts to speak, so she knew he meant it.

  ~~~

  Grayson and Jillian had just finished discussing prepping basics when they noticed Shannon struggling to get Larry out of his seatbelt.

  “Jillian, stay with Marcie,” Grayson ordered and ran to help.

  “Alpha male, one hundred percent,” Jillian whispered under her breath.

  “Grayson’s cool, isn’t he, Aunt Jillian?” Marcie glowed.

  “He’s something, all right.”

  “Looks like you need help.”

  Shannon’s face crunched with embarrassment. “Thank you.”

  He hauled Larry out of the car and upright on his wobbly legs.

  Larry swayed back and forth a few seconds, squinted at Grayson, and grew vicious. “You sss…na…bich. Think you’re better man’n me…ash…ol?” His weak swing glanced off Grayson’s chest.

  Grayson threw him over his shoulder, hauled him inside, and dumped him not so gently on the sofa.

  “I’m sorry, Grayson.”

  “If it’s okay with you, I’ll keep Marcie tonight.”

  “Unfortunately, she’s used to this.”

  “Not tonight, she isn’t.”

  Shannon didn’t have the energy to argue. She closed the door behind him. When she turned around, Larry was stumbling toward her. “I wanna deevorsss.”

  “Fine. I’ll agree to a divorce on one condition.”

  He attempted to stand straight. “Con…di…tion. Whoopy do.”

  “Look at me, Larry. Try to focus.”

  He steadied himself against the wall with his arm.

  “Here’s the condition for a divorce. Explain why you treat Marcie the way you do.”

  His face dropped, his voice as serious as a drunk can marshal. “Ssits not ̓portant.”

  Shannon was not about to let him off the hook. “Tell me the truth if you want your freedom. It’s your call.”

  “No…you calling ssshots. Always have.” He swayed dangerously.

  “Come back to the sofa and sit down before you fall.”

  He plopped down and looked around confused. “Whassa quesshion?”

  Shannon enunciated carefully. “Listen. To. Me. Why don’t you treat Marcie as a father should treat his child?”

  “Memer we first gaged? I went to Mex…co?”

  “You went with your brother on a fishing trip before we were married. What does that have to do with Marcie?”

  His head shook, then bobbed up and down. “I lied…yep…lied.”

  “About going to Mexico?”

  Larry became pensive. “Shannie, I’b sorry not…the man…for you. Didn’t…want kids…scared me.”

  “Focus Larry and get to the point. Mexico.”

  “Oh. I had a vasss…ec…tomy. Oooh! But you….” He shook an accusatory finger at her. “But you…you had sex with men…bich.”

  “A vasectomy!” Anger burned within her. “I haven’t had sex with other men! How dare you!”

  “I caaan’t make ba…bies. You bad, bad bich.”

  “Your vasectomy must have failed, some do.”

  “I check…ed. No swimmers. No little spermies. I caaa…n’t make baaa…bies,” he repeated.

  Larry’s statement crashed into the room with a thud.

  “Then how…what…? Oh, my God!” She stared at the floor. This damn fool! I’m a fool! Grayson and Marcie must never know.

  “I hate you!” She attacked Larry, beating on his chest with her fists. “You bastard!”

  “What’s wrong, Mom?”

  Shannon whirled to find Marcie staring at them in shock.

  “You’re supposed to be with Grayson and Jillian.”

  “They’re looking at Grayson’s guns. I came to get some of my birthday presents to show Grayson. What’s wrong?”

  Gaining a little more control, Larry shouted, “I’ll tell you waaat’s wrong, misssy!”

  “
Don’t you dare!” Shannon grabbed him by the shirt. “She’s a child, you idiot!”

  “Not myyy child!

  “Larry, no!”

  He spit out the poison that had infected him for the past thirteen years and nine months. He pointed an accusing finger at Shannon. “Your mo…mother’s…a whore!”

  “Mom, what’s he talking about?” Marcie sobbed.

  Shannon reached for Marcie, but she ran to Larry and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Daddy! Daddy! I love you!”

  “I don’t looove you. Neeever have. Neeever will. You’re n…not myyy kid.” Years of amassed ugly anger spewed at the symbol of his failed primary mission as a man. He twisted her arms away. “Let go mee, little bich. I haaate you.”

  The disgust pouring from Marcie’s face ripped Shannon’s heart open. Overwhelmed by guilt and shame, she opened her mouth but nothing came out.

  Marcie ran up the stairs and locked herself in her room; her wails filled the house. Shannon ran after her and knocked repeatedly on the door. “Baby, please let me in.”

  “Go away! I hate you! You’re not my mother anymore!”

  “I love you, Marcie! I’ve always loved you. Ignore your father. He’s drunk and doesn’t know what he’s saying. Please, open the door.”

  Marcie threw another spear into Shannon’s heart. “Who is my father? Do you even know?” Shannon looked over the rail and saw Larry passed out on the sofa. For the slightest streak of time, she considered killing him right then, right there. She closed her eyes and slid against the wall to the floor. No mother should ever experience the look I saw in my daughter’s face tonight. Happy birthday, sweetie.

  Chapter 51

  Relationships

  Year 17

  When Grayson finally opened the door to the insistent pounding, he found Marcie glaring at him with pouty lips, her fists balled on her hips. Adolescent sarcasm reprimanded him. “You aren’t in the sunroom! I left my key to the stupid door in my school locker! It’s time for our visit, and I’ve got something important to tell you!”

  “You’re definitely Shannon’s daughter, Little Miss Caustic. Get the glasses from the cupboard and fill them with ice, and I’ll get the lemonade.”

  Grayson allowed her to pout until they entered the sunroom. He grabbed a bag of popcorn from the movie-sized popper and sat. “What’s the important thing you have to tell me?”

  “Mom told me to tell you the church finally approved the annulment. She told me not to tell you that she told me to tell you. But you told me to be truthful with you always. This having to tell and not tell is confusing.”

  “You did fine. Let’s not over-analyze this. You feel caught in the middle, right?”

  “Duh.”

  “Watch your mouth, kid.”

  “I’m okay, I guess. I hate her and won’t talk to her except when I have to, like when I’m going to Melodie’s.”

  “Marcie, that’s not an appropriate way to treat your mom. This has been going on for almost two years. It’s none of my business what happened, but it’s time to make amends. She loves you.”

  “I don’t care. What she and Larry did to me wasn’t appropriate either.”

  “You’re not speaking to him?”

  “I don’t know where he is.”

  Didn’t see that coming.

  “All I ask is that you try to be civil with your mother.” He suspected Marcie’s anger was why Shannon kept her distance and communicated through her daughter.

  “I’ll try but don’t expect much.”

  “Let me tell you a story about a man I once despised who is now my friend.” Grayson shared a modified version of his experience with Weber.

  “But that’s what I’m saying. If she’d tell me what I’ve a right to know, we might work it out.”

  “See, that’s the thing. That man made a decision to try with me because he didn’t want to hate himself later. He almost did something mean and selfish that would’ve been devastating to me. Because he didn’t, and because I learned more about his situation, we worked it out.”

  Marcie laid her head on the table and mumbled. “I’ll try.”

  “Thank you. Let’s get supper going. Jillian’s eating with us. She’ll be here any minute.”

  Marcie didn’t move. “Where do you guys go when you disappear on weekends? Is Aunt Jillian your girlfriend?”

  “Heavens no, child! We’re good friend, that’s it.”

  “But, she comes over a lot, and you don’t tell me where y’all go.”

  “It’s not a big secret. Do you remember the farm I told you about where I used to live, the one my old boss and his wife own?”

  “Sure.”

  “Our organic gardening club goes there to do our share of work. It’s like the one we grow in the backyard, but much bigger. We hunt there, too.”

  Marcie sat up, rolled her head to the side, and offered an unvarnished observation. “I can smell bullshit from a mile away. You don’t need your guns when it’s not hunting season, and you don’t need camouflage uniforms and backpacks to work in a garden.”

  He was abruptly aware, and saddened, that Marcie was shedding her little girl self. “Do you realize that you’re becoming a young lady? I’m proud of you, sweetie, but lose the profanity.”

  “Whatever.”

  Jillian entered the kitchen just as Marcie said, “I want to go to the farm with y’all next time.”

  “Hi, guys. What’s this about the farm?”

  “Hi, Jillian. Marcie, run home and get some spend-the-night clothes.”

  Marcie frowned. “Shannon’s working late, again? Her precious illegals mean more to her than me, not that I care. I’ve got clothes here and you know it, but I’ll give you time to decide about the farm.”

  Grayson’s reprimand was swift. “Stop calling your mother by her first name! You can’t continue to do that and think of yourself as a young adult. Got me?”

  Stung by his reproach, the sarcasm in her voice vaporized. “Yes, sir.”

  After Marcie left, Grayson brought Jillian up to speed. “She’s on to us. I think it’s time to bring her into the fold, make her a MAG member. What’s your take?”

  “Shannon will have a fit if she finds out.”

  Grayson nodded. “But Marcie has to be prepared. Did you see where the S&P downgraded the government’s credit again yesterday?”

  “Makes me proud to be a financial analyst. Economic growth rate has stagnated below one percent for the last three quarters, propped up by the Fed dropping billions monthly into the economy. No wonder prices are going sky high.”

  “When the time comes to bug out, Shannon will be a problem. Her brain is too entrenched in the liberal mindset to sway her. She may delay us getting out of Dodge, and I don’t like the idea of walking to the BOL. It’ll be no less than two hundred walking-miles by the time we maneuver around dangerous areas.”

  Jillian poured a cup of coffee. “My gut feeling says you’re right, but the relationship between Marcie and Shannon is extremely fragile. Sissy won’t discuss it with me, and that’s strange.”

  He busied himself with dinner. “If you can’t get her to open up, nobody can. Marcie is so much a part of my life, I want her involved in everything I do. We must take action, and soon.”

  “Interest rates will be out of control before long. I give us a year, two at the most. The collapse is creeping up on us, Grayson, and I’m nervous.”

  He sighed and peppered the chicken. “I don’t want to live the rest of my life riddled with guilt because I could’ve saved them and didn’t. If Marcie’s to survive, she needs training and a warrior’s mentality.”

  “I’ve been a SET Patriot only a year and know that Marcie must be trained if she’s to increase her chances for survival. Think of what’ll happen if we’re not available, and she has to go it alone, dragging Shannon as an anchor.”

  “They’d be raped and killed or die of starvation for sure.”

  “Bingo, big guy!”

  “
I’m not comfortable keeping it from Shannon, but I can live with it.”

  The door slammed. Marcie was back. Grayson and Jillian glanced at each other.

  “Well, guys?”

  Chapter 52

  Prepper Marcie

  Year 17

  Marcie shot through the door, leaving it open. “Mom’s outside in her car and wants to see you, Grayson!”

  Shannon shouted at Grayson through the car window. “I’m sorry for dumping her on you, but I forgot I had to be in D.C. this weekend.”

  Call it what it is, Shannon. You intentionally forgot. “Don’t tell me you’re going to that stupid ‘Coalition to Stop Gun Violence’ demonstration at the Capitol?”

  Clearly pissed, she flung words at him. “It’s a march, not a demonstration! And it’s none of your business. Gotta go, catching a flight in two hours.”

  “I can’t keep her. I’m leaving in an hour to go to the farm.”

  “Damn!” She whacked the steering wheel.

  He didn’t like this side of Shannon, but Lady Luck had given him an opportunity, and he wouldn’t throw it away. “I’ll take her with me.”

  “Why do you have to go so often?”

  Exasperated at having to repeat himself for the umpteenth time, Grayson sighed. “I’ve told you. The chief and Miss Grace can’t handle the farm by themselves. I’m working in the garden and taking care of the farm animals this trip.” And I’m taking your daughter up there to make her a prepper. “Have fun at your stupid march. Marcie will enjoy seeing a working farm. She can help shovel cow pies.”

  Shannon stared through the windshield and relented. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll be back late Sunday evening.” She waved and sped away.

  Thanks, Shannon. You made our decision for us. While you’re opposing guns, your daughter will be mastering the use of one.

  “What was Mom shouting about?”

  “Get your bag. Add a change of clothes and a dress for Mass. We’re going to the farm.”

  Spinning around, she started at a dead run. “All right!”