by Trent Reedy
“Look who finally shows up!” Schmidty said. I laughed. He spun away from the desk in his dusty old swivel chair. My dad’s longtime business partner — now my partner — was taking his lunch break with his daily ham sandwich and iced tea. He took a drag on his cigarette. “How was practice? Coach still bustin’ your balls about not being in his precious weight room this summer?”
Coach had been kind of a dick when I first started practice because he had this idiot idea I hadn’t worked hard enough at Fort Leonard Wood. “Naw. I’ve been blasting right by all the best guys.”
Schmidty raised a bushy eyebrow as the Buzz Ellison talk show music came on the radio. “Is that right?”
“I even laid out TJ today. You should’ve seen —”
“Hang on now.” He flicked his cigarette ash in an old coffee can. “Shut up, and let me enjoy my show in peace.” He pointed to the Honda Civic GXE in the far bay — a natural gas/electric hybrid with solar assist. Someone had some money and really cared about cutting emissions. “You want to get started?” Schmidty said. “Oil change and tire rotation.” He called cars like this “dirty hippie cars.” Wouldn’t touch them.
I went over to the far bay as Buzz Ellison returned from a commercial break.
Welcome back, all of you true patriots. You’re listening to the one, the only, Buzz Ellison, the last bastion of truth and freedom in a very troubled America, broadcasting live coast to coast from Conservative CentCom in downtown Boise, Idaho. The number to call if you’d like to be on the program today is 1-800-555-FREE, that’s 1-800-555-3733. More reports are piling in from across the nation about people who just aren’t buying El Presidente Rodriguez’s party line about these government surveillance cards. We have protests on campuses in Florida, Texas, Iowa, and, of course, a chaotic situation right here in Boise.
Buzz faded into the background as I went to work. Schmidty and Buzz got all fired up about politics and how Democrats, liberals, and the government were supposedly destroying America. JoBell sometimes argued the exact opposite. I mostly let them all spin on. Politics weren’t my thing.
“Yeah, Buzz! That’s exactly what I’ve been saying!” Schmidty spat out bits of his sandwich as he yelled at the radio. I had to laugh. I’d told him over and over that he should have his own show. “Are you listening to this?” he asked me.
I hadn’t been, but I paid attention now.
These are sad days for America. First, terrible unemployment at 18 percent. Federal debt off the charts, a federal government shut down over budget disagreements earlier in the year. Now this. I don’t even want to think about what’s next. Well, but I already know. More big government. Remember what Ronald Reagan warned us about, patriots, when he said, “Government big enough to give you everything, is also powerful enough to take it all away.”
“Yeah! Give ’em hell, Buzz!” Schmidty shouted. Buzz rolled on.
People might ask me, “But Buzz, if everyone hates these new cards, why did the bill pass?” Well, that’s the problem! There are people out there … I have people on my phone lines right now waiting to disagree with me, people who are willing to overlook all the drawbacks in this boneheaded idea. These idiots are out protesting in the streets too. It’s an absolute mess.
Schmidty stood up and stretched, his stained T-shirt rising to expose the bottom flap of his big sagging belly. He downed the rest of his iced tea and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t know why you signed up with the National Guard. This ain’t the same country that your father died defending.”
This was like the hundredth time he had said something like that. I don’t know why he didn’t get it. As soon as I’d heard that a kid could join the Army National Guard at seventeen, I begged Mom to sign the permission form so I could enlist right on my birthday and ship out to training two days later. It was the perfect deal. The Guard would pay for all the auto tech classes I needed to really expand the business, even the advanced tech stuff for working on these newer hybrids, compressed natural gas vehicles, and second-gen solar-assist systems that Schmidty couldn’t stand. With my Guard pay from the summer and the money I’d been saving, I’d be able to buy Schmidty’s half ownership of the garage when he retired in a couple years and set up a real future right here in Freedom Lake.
More than the money, though, it was an honor to be a soldier and serve my country like my father had. Standing straight at basic training graduation, saluting the flag while the national anthem played, I knew I was part of something important. I loved my home and I loved America, and I was willing and ready to fight to defend them, to defend freedom and protect the people I loved.
I went back to work on the oil change. Buzz Ellison went on arguing with callers and complaining about the president. Schmidty worked on a pickup and argued with the callers as well. “Dumbass hippie protestors!” he yelled once.
That was classic Dave Schmidt, never happy unless he had something to be mad about. Still, he seemed worse than usual. Business had been bad lately. With gasoline prices so high for so long, the people who couldn’t afford to switch over to electrics or to cars like this Honda were actually driving less. Less wear and tear on cars meant less repairs meant less money. But that was pretty much the same story everywhere, and this old shop had never made Schmidty or Dad rich.
I sighed. No time to worry about this stuff now. All I could do was get a little good car work done before I headed back to school for afternoon practice.
* * *
Practice that afternoon was rough. It was like Coach Shiratori was mad that he couldn’t have practice on Saturday and Sunday, so he worked us extra hard to cram three days into a couple hours. TJ made sure to pair up with me for tackling drills, trying to get even for the way I’d smoked him that morning. I wouldn’t say I beat him in the drills. I fought him to a good draw, though.
After practice, at home, I hurt everywhere while I showered and dressed. Then I drank a huge glass of cool water, trying to get hydrated for the night’s party. Leaning back on my bed, I picked up a photo from my nightstand. It was taken last summer after I’d won first place in the senior high school division for bull riding. In the photo, me and JoBell were leaning against a white wooden fence, my arm around her. I’d been riding so much that summer that my brown hair was bleached nearly blond. I was sweating a little and there was a streak of dirt on my cheek, but JoBell just smiled at me.
I carefully put the photo down and opened the drawer to my nightstand, reaching all the way to the back until I found the little black box. For about the millionth time, I looked at the golden ring with its single diamond. It was a whole quarter carat, and it cost a fortune, but JoBell was worth it. I knew we were way too young to get married, but maybe in a year or so we could get engaged. Then, when I had enough money to buy the shop from Schmidty, I’d be making enough for us to live on. It could work. It really could. I ran my finger down the glass over JoBell’s image.
Hank McGrew cut into the silence from my COMMPAD, an older Samsung Cloud II. “Hey, partner, you got … a text coming in from JoBell.” Hank’s digi-assistant app didn’t run so well on a measly three gig and cellular. I picked up the comm.
“Hank, put it up.”
In the window at the lower right corner of the screen, the image of Hank McGrew gave a thumbs-up and then disappeared. The text blinked on-screen: Hey babe. Becca and me are at the lake. Where are you?
From outside came a high-pitched noise and the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway. I hoped that wasn’t Mom’s car. From the squeaking sound, it needed something. Hopefully it was only belts.
I looked out my window and sighed, then tapped the TEXT button and said, “At home. Mom just got here.” I tapped SEND.
Yeah. Hurry up. I want to have fun tonight.
I grinned. Keep your panties on. I’ll hurry.
Her text came back. No panties tonight. Only the bikini. Come get it.
“Danny?” Mom called from downstairs. Nothing to calm hot thoughts about
JoBell like Mom shouting. “Danny? Where are you?” The shadow, that panicked disconnect from reality, was creeping into her voice worse than it had in a long time. Mom didn’t handle stress very well, especially when she was away from home. I always helped her relax when she got here. I’d have to move quickly.
“Yeah, Mom —” I started to yell when Hank came back on my comm.
“The National Guard’s calling, buddy. Thanks for ser … ving your country.”
What could the Guard be calling about? Drill wasn’t until next month.
“Danny!” I heard a glass break downstairs.
“Mom, hang on! I’m here!” I shouted as I tapped in to the voice call. “Hello?”
“Danny!” Mom was nearly to shriek mode. The shadow almost had her now.
A deep voice came from the comm as I reached the bottom of the stairs. “Private First Class Wright?”
“Yes,” I said. Mom had her hands up in front of her chest, picking at the skin around her fingernails and taking little steps as she shuffled around the living room. The shards of one of her ceramic horse knickknacks littered the floor by the end table. “This is Wright,” I said into my comm.
“Oh! There you are.” Mom rushed over and hugged me tight. I slipped my arm around her and rubbed her back in the way that sometimes calmed her down. “At first I didn’t think you were here, and then I started to get nervous so I accidentally knocked the horse off —”
“PFC Wright, are you listening? This is Staff Sergeant Meyers.”
The voice came louder over the comm. I turned away so Mom couldn’t hear Meyers and held the comm away from my mouth. “I have a call, Mom,” I said to her. Into the comm I said, “Roger that. Go ahead.”
“Rattlesnake. Rattlesnake. Rattlesnake.”
Rattlesnake. Three times. The phrase was only used for one purpose. It meant our Guard unit was being activated.
My heart thumped heavy in my chest. Getting this code now didn’t make sense. My unit, the 476th Combat Engineer Company, was already deployed to Iran. They left before I even went to basic. The only soldiers who drilled at the 476th armory outside of Farragut Falls were new privates like me and prior service transfers from other Guard units — soldiers who had moved to the area and switched to our company after most of the others had shipped out. They couldn’t be mobilizing us now.
I slid out from Mom’s hug, smiling and pretending I was almost happy, like I was talking to one of the guys. “Go —” My mouth suddenly felt dry. I licked my lips. “Go ahead,” I said to the sergeant. I covered the mike on my comm. “Mom, have a seat in your chair. I’ll make you some tea.” A hot cup of chamomile tea always helped relax Mom’s nerves. She shuffled to her recliner as I slipped into the kitchen.
“Private Wright?” said Sergeant Meyers. “You there? Prepare to copy.”
“Yeah. Go ahead. I’m here, Sergeant.”
“This is your mobilization call.”
I wedged the comm between my ear and shoulder as I filled the teakettle and put it on the stove. “Iran or Pakistan?”
“Negative,” Sergeant Meyers said. “By order of the governor of the state of Idaho, you are hereby ordered to report to your duty station, 476th Engineer Company armory, no later than eighteen hundred hours this evening.” He sounded stiff, like he was reading from something. “Uniform will be MCU — Multinational Combat Uniform. You will receive further instructions upon reporting for duty.”
I cranked the heat up on the burner and tilted my head back and forth to stretch my neck. “You can’t tell me anything about what’s going on?”
Meyers didn’t answer for a moment. I could hear the faint sound of voices in the background. Then he cleared his throat. “Listen, Private,” he said in a quiet, tough voice. “There’s trouble with this protest down in Boise. Stuff getting torn up. At least one police car has been flipped over, maybe set on fire. The governor is sending in the Guard to restore order. But you didn’t hear any of that from me. Understand?”
“Roger that, Sergeant. I guess I’ll figure out what’s going on when I get to the armory.”
“You need to man up and pay attention tonight,” said the sergeant. “This is the real deal. It’s going to be a long night. That a good copy?”
“Roger,” I said.
“Hurry up and get here. Do not be late. Out.” The line went dead. I stared at the “call ended” message on the screen.
“Who was that?” Mom said.
I jumped a little. How had I not heard her enter the kitchen? She wasn’t shaking as much. “You okay, Mom?” I tried to act happy. “You had me worried when you came in. Why don’t you have a seat?”
The metal kitchen chair scraped on the linoleum floor as she sat down. “I … I had a rough day at work. They want me to use this new computer system, even though they’re hardly giving me time to train on it, and the old one worked fine. Rita called in sick, so I had to cover a lot more, plus she said she would help me figure out the new system. Then I couldn’t find you …” Her breathing was getting faster again.
“It’s okay, Mom. You’re home. You’re good now.”
She pressed her hands to her chest, closed her eyes, and focused on her breathing. “I … I’m fine. That Eric calling?”
She had calmed down a little bit, but she’d freak if she knew I’d been activated and had to go on duty. “Yeah. Sweeney was hoping I could meet him. Take his boat out. You know, fishing and everything.”
“Drinking?”
“What? No, Mom. Trying to catch some fish. Maybe play a little poker.”
She didn’t look completely convinced. “Sure. Okay. If you’re staying late, don’t be driving.”
“Sure.” I took a few steps toward the door to the hallway, then stopped. This was the absolute wrong time to be called up. “You going to be okay?”
“Go.” She waved me away. “Have fun with your friends. You work too hard taking care of your crazy old mother.”
I crossed the kitchen in three big steps, put my arms around her, and kissed the top of her head. “You’re not crazy or old, Mom.”
“Go on now. I love you.” She patted my hand as I pulled away. “Danny?” she said as I reached the door again. “Be careful tonight.”
I nodded and headed toward my room to get my uniform. Back in the kitchen, the boiling kettle began to scream.
—• As you can see, Tom, I’m quite close to the disturbance, and what began as a protest against Governor Montaine signing the bill to nullify the Federal ID Card Act has quickly expanded into counterprotests about a host of issues. Excuse me, sir, can you tell us why you’re protesting today?”
“Yeah, I’ll tell ya. Look, I don’t care about any stupid ID card law. I’m pissed because the government needs to know we’re sick of this, man! Mr. Big Shot Governor so busy talking up new jobs in Idaho, building COMMPADS and electronics in Boise and Idaho Falls. I applied there. Didn’t get the job. I can’t even afford a comm! Tired of this! •—
—• Come to the Coeur d’Alene gun show featuring locally manufactured Castle Firearms! Under Idaho law, if you’re an Idaho resident and buy locally manufactured weapons, federal gun control laws do not apply to you. So take advantage of this opportunity to purchase an AR15 or other quality, locally made firearms. There’s even an air rifle range for the kids! This Saturday at the •—
—• Climbing three positions to number five on the country music charts, here’s Hank McGrew with his latest hit, “Rise Up”:
Old Merle got home early from the factory today
His wife put on the dinner, said, “It’ll be okay
For you and me, six kids in our family”
Well, Ol’ Merle’s daddy taught him to judge from right and wrong
Said, “Life will sometimes drop you, but don’t stay down for long
You’re an American, not an Ameri-can’t”
And when the next day rolled around, Merle went down to the mill
No jobs that day, but he won’t give up<
br />
And you know he never will
’Cause the Eagle carries the Sword of Justice in her beak
She lands and stands proud on the church steeple peak
As the flag flies over this town …
Oh, you can’t keep America down •—
—• of Democrat senators threatening to filibuster a defense appropriations bill unless their unemployment package is brought to the floor for a vote. The Republican leadership countered, saying the soaring federal deficit would not allow •—
—• With the last of the phase-one pipeline system complete, the New Plymouth natural gas compressor station went online today, making western Idaho’s recently discovered extensive natural gas resources commercially available for the first time. A spokesman at the plant says that phase two, scheduled to begin within the year, will focus on distributing natural gas to commercial filling stations for use in cleaner-running natural gas automobiles. Lynette Jatherine, KTVB Boise News. •—
—• As president, one of my chief responsibilities is upholding the law. Nothing is more sacred to me than our rights as Americans as provided for by our Constitution. During my time in the Senate, I worked to limit the warrantless surveillance power of the National Security Agency, begun under President Bush and expanded thereafter. As president, I put an end to the practice started by President Obama and continued until my administration, of using drones or other means to kill American citizens without due process. I did these things because I respect and cherish our Constitutional rights.
So yes, the new federal identification cards will contain a lot of personal information in order to streamline access to federal services, and it is precisely because these cards will contain such information that they contain a chip allowing their location to be tracked. If one of these important cards is lost or stolen, it can quickly be located. I understand why people, including those in Idaho, might be upset about the federal government’s ability to track the location of these cards, but I promise the American people that the location of any federal ID card would never be tracked except at the request of its owner, or with a proper warrant issued by a court of law. •—