Islam Rising

by Johnny Jacks

  The pictures of Daniel always caught him off guard. The sixteen-year-old boy he remembered was now a man. He’d filled out and looked like Grayson at that age. He reclined his chair, closed his eyes, and began to reflect on the considerable changes that had taken place in his life when the doorbell rang.

  “Jillian! This is a surprise.”

  “I apologize if I bothered you. I’m meeting Shannon, but she’s running late. Can’t find my dang key.”

  “So, you thought you’d swing by and aggravate me. Coffee?”

  “Sounds good. Thanks.”

  Jillian threw down the gauntlet on the way to the sunroom. “When are you going to make a move on Shannon?”

  Warning bells reverberated between Grayson’s ears. “That’s what I love about you and your sister. No subtle fishing; dive in with both feet. What makes you think I’m interested in her?”

  Jillian laughed. “Look, big boy, you’re the one that announced she’s your girlfriend to a none-too-happy audience. Anyway, you two have a secret that’s not so secret, at least not to me.”

  Grayson chuckled. “Well, you know more than I do then. We have no secrets. Shannon avoids me. Maybe she has someone else. Maybe I should marry Laura, a good woman who loves me.”

  “You pissed her off in spades with the Shannon admission, but the way she looks at you and wiggles her fanny to get your attention hasn’t changed. I admire the way you mask your feelings. Do you love Laura?”

  “Well, yes, some.” Careful.

  “But Shannon is the one you desire, the one you can’t stop thinking about. What a dilemma that must present you.”

  Walk VERY carefully. This woman could track and take down a grizzly with one hand.

  “Jillian, some things don’t make sense. Laura is perfect for me, but you’re right. Shannon has a hold on me I don’t understand. I want her to be mine, but she’s erected an invisible barrier.”

  “You’re just the man to break it down, a man who understands the old English adage, ‘Faint heart never won fair maiden’s hand.’”

  “Thanks for your confidence. If you know how to get over the most daunting task, her liberal brainwashing, and save her from herself, tell me and I’ll make her heart mine.”

  Jillian shook her head. “She’s been a progressive too long. It’ll take a traumatic event to make her see the light; but her heart is yours.”

  “Guess I have to face it, Shannon won’t be onboard until Houston is engulfed in flames and maybe not even then. If she doesn’t accept the collapse before the roads are jammed, we’re screwed.”

  “She’ll be in denial to the end, expecting the government to come to the rescue.”

  “You think she’ll be in a state of normalcy bias?”

  “I do.”

  “Rest assured, Jillian. I won’t abandon her. I’m counting on you to get Marcie safely to the BOL, in case I’m not around.”

  Jillian glanced out the window. “She’s home. I’d better run. For whatever it’s worth, I won’t bug out without you guys. Something else, big boy, you have to take action soon. Do something unusual to get her attention.”

  “Like what?”

  “Maybe flowers with a ‘thinking-of-you’ love note. Add a box of gourmet chocolates.”

  “Hmmm. If you think it’ll work, I’m game.”

  Shannon saw Jillian leave Grayson’s sunroom and felt a stab of jealousy at their closeness. There was something curious about them, as if they were keeping a secret from her. Her jealousy turned to fear when it occurred to her that Grayson might have lost interest in her.

  Chapter 55

  Shannon’s Quandary

  Year 18

  Shannon began joining Marcie and Grayson for meals. She didn’t mention why, just showed up one day with a big smile, giving Grayson a knowing look. Her presence annoyed Marcie but pleased Grayson, who knew why, even if she kept it to herself.

  “Grayson, you’ve become quite the grill master,” Shannon dabbed her lips. “The chicken was delicious. How about the three of us enjoy a steak dinner Saturday night at Ruth’s Chris, my treat?”

  “Do I get the same dessert as the last time you offered to pay?” Grayson wiggled his eyebrows.

  “You guys are weird,” Marcie frowned. “I’ll stay home if you’re going to act like that.”

  “Why don’t we make a picnic lunch and go to Lake Houston Wilderness Park, instead?” Grayson offered.

  “You’re on, mister.” Shannon turned to Marcie. “Last chance, in or out?”

  “Out!”

  Shannon looked questioningly at Grayson.

  “She’s sixteen, old enough to stay by herself for a few hours,” he said, not daring to tell her that Marcie’s 9mm was handy and she knew how to use it.

  ~~~

  Settled across from each other at a picnic table by the lake, Grayson and Shannon watched the canoes gliding quietly across the water and ate roast beef sandwiches, chasing them with root beer. Finishing their sandwiches, Shannon removed a box of Godiva chocolates from the bottom of the picnic basket. “I saved these to share with you. I thought you had given up on me.”

  “Given up?”

  “After the divorce, you didn’t ask me out. I thought you didn’t care anymore, but your flowers and these chocolates—”

  “You isolated yourself. I thought you didn’t want to be bothered.” Women! Hints! Men need hints!

  Grayson popped a chocolate into his mouth, and mumbled as he chewed, “You have something else on your mind?”

  “What makes you think I have something on my mind?”

  Grayson lowered his head, looked at her through the tops of his eyes.

  “I hate it when you read me. I’ll have to change tactics.” She smiled.

  “That won’t work, and you know it.”

  “Damn you, Grayson! I wanted us to enjoy this evening, but there is an issue we need to discuss.”

  “Elephant in the room?” Grayson looked around, “Or I should say the park?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I’m all ears. What’s the elephant?”

  “I’m concerned about some aspects of your influence on Marcie. She wrote a school report on how prices can skyrocket and cause the American economy to collapse. She discussed a state of anarchy with cities burning and people fighting and starving to death, all of which reek of that doomsday stuff you believe. It’s ridiculous and we know that’s not possible in this country. The government ensures price stability.”

  And there it is. Normalcy bias. “What was her grade?”

  “What?”

  “Her grade on the report; what was it?”

  “She got a D. Her teacher said it was well written and argued, but it was science fiction, and the report was supposed to be non-fiction.”

  Grayson felt like the time he was trapped in a minefield in Iraq. Combat engineers cleared an escape path for him back then. Today, he was on his own.

  “First, the teacher should be fired and a conservative teacher hired that has a clue. Second, you made it perfectly clear you didn’t want me to interject my idiotic opinions—your words, not mine—into Marcie’s studies, which is virtually impossible because she’s with me all the time. Third, I haven’t seen the report, but the details you mentioned are true.”

  “That’s preposterous! America’s too strong to have a failed economy.”

  “It failed in 1929 and caused the Great Depression.”

  “Yes, but it didn’t result in anarchy, thanks to President Roosevelt.”

  “True; but FDR was a socialist. He caused the economy to suffer.”

  “Are you nuts? FDR was not a socialist!”

  “He implemented socialist programs the Supreme Court ruled unconstitutional, at least, until he packed the court with progressives. Do your research, counselor. World War II and the economic boom that followed masked FDR’s failed presidency. He was good at making people feel like he was saving them with his handouts, convincing them government was the ans
wer to all their problems.”

  “Sharing of wealth to the less fortunate is a good thing,” she retorted.

  “Shannon, FDR’s actions caused the Depression to extend longer than it would have if he’d not soaked up the available cash for socialist programs. It kept companies from accessing the funds they needed to start new business or expanding to provide the jobs needed to restore the economy through capitalism.”

  “America’s economy has always been and is now capitalist.”

  The romance went right out the window or drowned in the lake. Here goes.

  “No, it’s not. Our slide toward fascism started in 1895 with the Sherman Antitrust Act when Congress gave the executive branch the power to regulate commercial enterprise. Hundreds of laws since added tremendously to the problem and created the current outrageous oligarchy we call The Establishment. America has a fascist economy, with socialist elements supported by what’s left of the capitalist element.”

  “That’s bull crap.”

  Nothing like a little sweet talk with the woman I love.

  “Veterans Administration hospitals, Amtrak, Conrail, and Legal Services Corporation are all socialist entities. LBJ’s Great Society program and Obamacare are perfect examples of fascist programs.”

  “You are seriously mentally ill. Where do you get these dumb ideas?”

  “Listen. VA hospitals and Amtrak workers are government employees. Both are failures due to poor management, and cost taxpayers billions of dollars a year. That’s socialism, plain and simple.”

  Shannon paced next to the table. “Define capitalism, socialism, and fascism,” she challenged smugly.

  “You want the drawn-out textbook version or my abbreviated version?”

  “If you can’t do it in a couple of sentences, let’s go home.”

  “Capitalism permits citizens to own property, acquire wealth, and engage in commercial enterprise with little or no interference by the government. America had that before the Progressive Movement started at the end of the Nineteenth Century.”

  “Grayson, you know as well as I do capitalism during the American Industrial Revolution created monopolies and child sweatshops and most definitely did not protect workers.”

  “But you don’t kill a cockroach with an atomic bomb. Question is, at what point does government control become tyranny?”

  “You’re pontificating, but go on.” Grayson was now on his feet.

  “Socialism does not allow citizens to own property, acquire wealth, or engage in commercial enterprise. Under socialism, the government owns everything—housing, factories, farms, transportation systems, you name it—and every worker is a government employee. Have you checked on Venezuela and Cuba lately to see the awful results?”

  “And fascism?” she spit at him.

  “Fascism allows citizens to own property and engage in commercial enterprise, but only through autocratic government regulation and oversight, again, like the Great Society program and Obamacare. It’s how the Nazis ran their end of WWII.”

  “You’re saying America’s economic system is the same as Hitler’s. You’re certifiably insane!”

  “Technically, America’s economic system is fascist. Business has to toe the government’s line. If the shoe fits, wear it.”

  “Obamacare gave thirty million people healthcare who didn’t have it. What do you say to that, mister?”

  “Shannon, over five million families lost healthcare the day it was implemented. Twenty million don’t have it now and another ten million can’t afford the premiums or co-pays. Nothing changed. Oh, wait, the price of medical care skyrocketed.”

  “Where do you get your numbers? Fox News?”

  “From government websites. For Pete’s sake, educate yourself.”

  Shannon’s red hair glowed with indignation. “You and your Fox News crap!”

  Bucko, tiptoe out of this minefield before you lose everything.

  Grayson softened his voice. “Shannon?”

  “What!” She stopped and they faced each other across the table.

  “I respect that you have another political perspective, but understand this: America’s kids need both sides of the story explained if they’re to develop critical thinking skills. For too long, our education system has taught our kids what to think, not how to think. That’s why I let Marcie see both sides. Certainly, you understand that.”

  Her anger boiling, Shannon had to get in the last punch. “She’s my child, not your….” The blood drained from her face. She sat hard on the picnic table bench.

  Grayson hurried around and kneeled beside her. “Are you okay?”

  “Sort of.”

  “I thought you were going to pass out.”

  He moved to sit beside her, pulling her close. Once her breathing stilled, he tilted her head up and gave her his best disarming smile. “There’s one other thing.”

  “What?” she sniffled.

  “I love you with all my heart, Shannon Fisher, and I want to be with you all the days of my life.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, she replied. “I love you, too, Grayson Dean.”

  His arms enfolded her and they converged in a deep kiss. She rested her head on his chest. “This is the first time I’ve felt alive since Las Vegas. It seems a dream; it was so long ago. Damn you, Grayson Dean,” she whispered.

  “Regardless of our differences, Shannon, I’ve got to know where we stand on taking the next step. I’m ready.”

  “I can’t make any promises, not now.” She pulled back suddenly. “Can we just be happy for a little while, enjoy being close?”

  Grayson, baffled by her circuitous reactions, eased her head back to his chest and stroked her hair.

  At least I know the depth of her love. We can build from here.

  Chapter 56

  Tactical Marcie

  Year 18

  Grayson finished his scrambled eggs and bacon just as the sun began to peek over the horizon. He looked across the table at Marcie. “Treat your mother with more respect, and now that you have your license, I’ll let you drive to the farm and back.”

  “That’s not fair!” She cocked her head. “What exactly does more respect mean?”

  “Don’t play games with me, missy. Be polite, kinder, less argumentative.”

  “Forget it! You drive.”

  “Fine. You sit in the passenger seat and listen to my hard rock blaring all the way up and back. Get Maverick and Bubbles ready.”

  Marcie gave him a dirty look. “You’re mean.”

  “Yep…as a rattlesnake.” Grayson dangled the keys in front of her face and grinned. “If I were you, I’d wipe that dirty look off my face and rethink my options. You don’t have to feign adoration, but you damn well better be respectful, like you are toward Miss Grace. Otherwise, you aren’t going to the farm anymore. Period. Your attitude makes a difference in when you get your own car.”

  Marcie snatched the keys. “Deal. I don’t want a new car. I want the sixty-eight Ford pickup at the farm. I’m a prepper.”

  “Be nice to your mother, and you might earn enough points to get it. Don’t forget to pack your dress for Saturday Vigil.”

  “Already packed it.”

  “Sunday, we’re going to the Church of Christ service with the chief and Miss Grace.”

  Marcie gave him a questioning look.

  “We’re all Christians and worship the same God and have the same Jesus. We go to Mass but should occasionally worship with our Protestant brothers and sisters. It’s educational for us and helps bond the community.”

  Marcie began backing out of the driveway. “I can’t wait to ride Bullet. He’s the fastest horse in the county.”

  “When did you start riding horses?”

  “About three meetups ago, when I had that sprained ankle and couldn’t participate in training. It was Miss Grace’s idea. Mr. Ramirez showed me how to put the saddle on Bullet and mount without putting pressure on my bad ankle.”

  “Oh! Now I k
now why Austin’s been showing up with his horse. Young lady, you’d better not be riding into the woods with that boy.”

  “We don’t! We hide in the barn. Soft hay…you know.”

  Grayson flashbacked to his teen years and a very pregnant Margaret. “I’ll have a special talk with Austin this weekend.”

  Grayson’s concern for her made Marcie feel safe. She appreciated his straightforward advice about boys.

  “We just kiss a little. I think he’s scared to do anything else.” She shrank at the look he gave her.

  Grayson was proud of Marcie for her self-confidence, as naïve as it was. It would serve her well when she matured into a full-grown woman. Why must little girls have to grow up?

  “You’ll have to invite him over, so I can lay down the law and show him my muscles and the shotgun I keep behind the door. Boys have one thing in mind, and they better be scared to death of touching my little girl.”

  Marcie giggled. “You don’t keep a shotgun behind the door. Austin’s so cute and sweet, and he’s a real cowboy with real cows.”

  Grayson was speechless.

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  “Watch it, missy! So he’s more than a passing fancy, someone to share horse rides. You know the rules.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m not allowed to date until I’m ninety-nine, and when I go on dates, I have to hold an aspirin between my knees.”

  Grayson nodded. “And wear a turtleneck sweater that grips your ankles. Let’s change gears and discuss today’s training exercise.”

  “You’ve taught me a lot since I became a SET Patriot and I know all about survival and how to use a rifle and a pistol.”

  “You know about shelter, water, food, security, and you’ve trained Maverick as a military combat dog. But you haven’t participated in tactical exercises since you joined.”

  “We hunt and you’ve drilled me on how to move through woods and open areas in stealth mode.”

  “You don’t know about camouflage and concealment or militia operations, like patrolling, raids, and ambushes. You need training and practice in immediate action drills, which is what we’re doing this weekend.”