by Kyle Pratt
He reviewed the day. The one bright spot was that he was able to get this barracks room. Most soldiers were deployed.
He had to admit that the MPs had been polite—but firm. They had escorted them into the back and reviewed their story. Caden tried to phone Governor Monroe, but the phone’s screen was black, the battery dead. The lieutenant let him use his, but Caden reached only a secretary at Monroe’s office. Everyone he talked to informed him it was illegal to board an interstate flight, cross state lines or enter a government facility without some type of Real ID, preferably a Homeland Security badge or a passport. As far as the military police and the Office of Special Investigations were concerned she would remain in custody until it was determined how and why she had boarded the flight. Caden tried to get an appointment with the Base Commander, but he refused to see him. He had no idea how to help Maria.
Adam slept surrounded by bundles of blankets. Caden picked up a newspaper someone had left and attempted to read, but he just stared at the page. He tossed the paper aside and grabbed the TV remote and clicked from one news program to another. He zoomed past one station, then paused and tapped the controller back. Lyon Chapfield. He sneered as he remembered the many times they had spoken. He’s so far out in left field he’s in the bleachers.
He was about to move to another channel when Lyon’s words caught his attention.
“Tonight in closing I feel I must speak out about the security policies of President Durant.”
Here it comes, commentary from the lunatic left.
“I do not argue with the need to apprehend the terrorists who have murdered hundreds of thousands and destroyed eight major cities, but in the process of waging this war we have become a police state.”
Caden focused on the screen. A few weeks ago he would have laughed at the idea of America being a police state, but with Maria in jail he found himself nodding in agreement.
“Homeland Security badges required for travel from state to state, long distance phone lines and Internet service seized and shutdown except for government use and now,” Chapfield looked to his right, “government censors at the network….”
Caden heard pounding in the studio.
Chapfield’s words were rushed. “All this in the name of security. Well, it was Benjamin Franklin who said, ‘Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety…,’” Chapfield looked to the side, “They…deserve…” Shouts came from off screen. The network logo appeared on the TV accompanied by soft music.
Caden finished the quote. “…deserve neither liberty nor safety.” He stared at the screen as the music continued. His stomach knotted. Had doors been busted down? It sounded like it. Had the ‘Homeland Security Advisors’ taken Chapfield off the air, arrested him, for speaking his mind?
Caden turned off the sound, but kept on the television while he tried to absorb all that had happened both on the screen and in his life. The agony of the terrorist attacks had morphed America into something unrecognizable. His eyes were open but all he saw were visions of fire and death in the nation’s capital, refugees trudging along the highways, Becky on the television followed by static. There is a need for security, but censors busting down doors?
He shook his head. Maria languished in jail because she didn’t have proper travel documents, but she was not a terrorist; even Chapfield was not the enemy. Do I agree with Lyon Chapfield? His mind rebelled at the thought. After some deliberation he concluded they had a mutual agreement with Benjamin Franklin.
Caden’s father would say that rights were God given; that government could not take them away but, in every practical sense, the government was taking away rights.
Caden had learned the habit of reading newspapers and watching the news from his father. Politics, current events, God and liberty were often topics of dinner table discussion—at least among Dad, Caden and his younger brother and sister. He smiled as he recalled the many times his mother asked, “Can’t we talk about things normal families discuss at dinner?”
Since leaving home he had remained informed about politics and current events. Home. God. Liberty. These had been taken for granted and now seemed so distant, so elusive. “God help me. Help Maria.”
Thoughts of Maria merged into thoughts of family. I should phone my parents. Once again he imagined how the conversation might go. Who’s Maria? Why is she in jail? They think you’re married? Who’s Adam? But, he decided to call anyway. He flipped open his phone, and then remembered it was dead. He dug through his duffle bag, found the charger and dialed. The number rang and rang, but there was no answer. He swore and Adam stirred. Caden remembered the many times his dad had said, “if someone really wants to talk to me, they’ll call back.” Dad, get an answering machine. He looked through the phone address book for his brother or sister’s number, but was embarrassed to conclude he had never entered them. They had always communicated online and now that was impossible.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed in frustration. When he opened them the network had returned to news. He turned on the sound and watched as a man he had never seen before introduced stories of FEMA work in refugee camps, government food distribution and how Homeland Security had apprehended five more terrorists. There was no mention of Lyon Chapfield or growing tension in Asia. Caden turned off the television and threw the remote aside.
His eyes drifted to the window as the sun dipped below the horizon. He continued to watch as inky blackness spread across the sky. Caden imagined demons, released by the bombs, pouring out from the gloom of the cities. As they raced across the land they spread terror and consumed all light and hope.
Like a drowning man, his thoughts reached toward Maria. Desperately he yearned for her to be with him, to lift him from the blackness. He was conflicted and confused that it was not Becky that he wanted by his side.
He called home again, but the ring this time was strange and no one answered. A long night stretched out before him. In a desperate attempt to push back the darkness he turned on the lamp beside him and there in a small pool of light he sat as the demons overtook the world and sleep slowly overtook him.
Loud knocking roused Caden from his chair. He stumbled toward the door as he wiped sleep from his eyes and then his mouth on his sleeve. Finding the knob he opened the door and squinted at the fresh-faced private who stood before him.
“Are you Caden Westmore?”
“Yes.”
“General Collins would like to see you.”
“Who?”
“The base commander.”
“He would? Now? What time is it?”
“Eight thirty.” The private looked Caden up and down, “In the morning.”
“Give me a minute.” He stumbled toward the bathroom. As he passed the still sleeping Adam an unpleasant aroma hit him. “Unless you want to change a diaper, I’ll need a few more minutes.”
* * *
His face washed and shaved, Caden hurried up the steps to the Administration building wearing his least creased clothes and with a more pleasant smelling Adam in his arms. Once inside the secretary had offered to look after the baby, but Caden felt Adam might be helpful in getting Maria released, after all a mother should be with her child.
As Caden entered the office he saw two men. A silver-haired general sat behind the desk. Ribbons on his uniform told of battles fought and won. A lieutenant, a few years younger than Caden, stood to the side of the desk. On his chest were a mere two ribbons. Caden looked squarely at the General. “Thank you for seeing me, sir.”
The General nodded and gestured for Caden to sit. Looking at a file he said, “I hadn’t planned on seeing you, Mr. Westmore. Frankly, I have more important things to do.”
He bounced Adam on his knee. “Well, I appreciate you taking the time.”
“You’re here because we have a mutual friend.”
“Oh?”
“Governor Monroe called me yesterday afternoon.”
Caden was pleased his message
had gotten through.
“The governor and I have known each other for some time. We talked for nearly an hour about the terrorist attacks, establishing refugee camps, emergency food distribution, coordination with FEMA and,” he paused, “your wife.”
A momentary urge to tell the General they weren’t married was quickly suppressed.
The General picked up his coffee cup. “This morning I was still drinking my first cup when his chief-of-staff called me.” He took a sip. “The only thing he wanted to discuss was getting your wife released.”
Caden stifled a smile.
The General leaned back in his chair. “That’s when I decided to get this sorted out early.” He opened a file on his desk then gestured toward the lieutenant. “CID can’t find a marriage certificate. Now, that doesn’t surprise me considering all the cities that have been attacked, but something does confuse me.” He looked Caden square in the eye. “The Lieutenant here tells me that just days ago you were working for Senator Stevens in Washington DC and that at about the same time the young lady we have in custody was a student at the University of North Florida.”
Caden’s heart pounded.
The general looked carefully at Adam and then at Caden. “And is this your child?” He leaned back in his chair, but his eyes remained fixed.
Blood pulsed in Caden’s ears.
“Care to put all those pieces together for me, son?”
Chapter Ten
How many times had his mother told him, “If you tell a lie you have to tell more lies to cover it up?” He had forgotten her words for a time and now he was faced with a decision, either tell a whopper of a lie or come clean and face the consequences. Caden was not worried about his own situation. What could the General do? Tell the Lieutenant to cuff him and throw him in the stockade for lying about being married? The military had more important things to do right now. Maria was the one in jail, the one without proper documents. She might be labeled a security risk. Her freedom might well depend on what he did in the next few seconds.
The General stared with an emotionless gaze.
God help Maria. Caden took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked at the baby on his knee. “Adam’s mother was a refugee. She was walking along an Alabama highway with thousands of others when she was hit by a car. We tried to save her, but she died. I found the baby near her body and have been taking care of him since.”
No emotion crossed the General’s face. “Go on.”
“The first time I saw Maria was when she saved my life—and Adam’s.” He went on to explain about the robbers and that he later found out they had killed Maria’s parents.
The general’s eyes narrowed. “She tracked down and shot one of the killers who murdered her parents?”
Caden nodded.
A hint of a smile flashed across his face. “Go on.”
“Maria…well, she developed a bond with Adam that night. She’s as protective and attached as any mother. I think for the first few days she stayed with me because I had Adam. By the time I met up with Governor Monroe’s staff everyone thought we were a family. It’s my fault everybody assumed we were married. I should have said something, but….” Caden leaned back in the chair and sighed.
The General nodded. “My parents taught me that there are two kinds of lies, those of commission, where someone voices a lie, and of omission, where someone remains silent and allows others to believe something that is not true. You have managed to do both and in the process attempted to deceive me and my friend, Governor Monroe.”
Caden felt like a child caught and scolded by a teacher. He wondered if, telling the truth, he had done the right thing for Maria.
General Collins looked through the pages of the file then at the Lieutenant. “Is that essentially the story she told you?”
“Yes sir, except she said it was her fault she had no identification and that people believed they were married.”
The smile returned to the general’s face, but this time it remained. “That’s some woman you found. I wouldn’t cross her.” He stared at Caden for a moment. “You owe Governor Monroe an explanation.”
“Yes, sir.”
The general closed the folder. “Frankly your petty deception is a waste of my time. I don’t care whether you are married or single or shacked up or whatever. I just need to know whether the people on my base are a threat to security or not—and I think she is not.” He turned to the Lieutenant. “Release her and get them both off my base.”
* * *
A cold, gray sky greeted Caden as he followed two military policemen to a jeep outside the building. He sat in the back with Adam as the soldiers drove to the barracks. Drizzle dotted the windshield. He stepped from the vehicle and shivered. Adam whimpered. In his room he pulled out a jacket for himself and wrapped the still whining infant in several blankets.
Caden dropped the duffle bags into the jeep and in moments was whisked out to a main road, past the Post Exchange and then by a closed gas station.
“Why is the gas station closed?”
“There hasn’t been a delivery since the day before Seattle was hit,” The driver said.
“Within minutes of that attack the line at the station stretched for over a mile,” the other MP continued. “By the end of the day there wasn’t any gas left.”
As they approached the main gate, Caden remembered that he had been required to leave his pistol behind when Maria was arrested. He asked the driver to stop. “I need to get something from the MPs.”
Grabbing his duffle bags from the back of the jeep Caden asked, “Will my…ah, Maria be brought here?”
The driver shrugged, “Maria? I was just told to get you to the main gate.”
He nodded in understanding.
“Good luck,” the driver said and drove off.
Caden soon stood in a long line in the lobby of the building. That gave him too much time to think. He was sure that General Collins would talk to Governor Monroe in the next few days. I really want to talk to the Governor first and explain, try to explain, what’s going on between Maria and me. What is going on between us? There was no denying that his feelings for her were growing. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to be his wife, but he didn’t mind people thinking she was. He needed to slow down, think things through. How do you take things easy and slow when the world is falling apart around you? As he thought about it he decided that the best way to explain their relationship to the governor was the way he did with the general. Tell the truth? Maybe it is just that simple.
Mom and Dad always said the truth was simple. Mom and Dad! He pulled out his phone and punched in the number. All he received in return was a rapid busy signal. He tried several more times without success.
“The best time to try is late at night,” a women behind him in line said. “The phone lines are usually busy during the day.”
That seemed reasonable. The military and government probably had control of most circuits and the few available for civilian use were probably swamped during the day. He thanked her and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
The image of his former boss, Senator Stevens, floated through his mind. Dead. He thought of the party with his co-workers he had attended that night. How many of them are dead?
The bloody face and body of Adam’s mother replaced those images and lingered momentarily until he recalled the image of his fiancée Becky on the television and the blackness that followed the Atlanta blast. How had Becky survived? How had she become press secretary for Michael Durant? President Michael Durant. The thought of her working for him made him cringe.
As the line moved slowly forward, Caden dragged his duffle bag beside him. Adam didn’t weigh much, but after an hour in line he felt like a ton. How did Maria hold him all day? He imagined putting the well-bundled child on the floor and pushing him along with his foot, but quickly dismissed the notion.
Finally, an MP once again handed Caden his unloaded pistol. He placed the weapon in his jacket pocke
t and walked out of the office past two soldiers with M-4s.
Returning to his thoughts, he recognized that he was glad that Becky was alive, but he desperately hoped that Maria was waiting for him outside the gate. That realization made him feel guilty, but his pace along the sidewalk quickened. As he rounded the corner and headed toward the bus stop he was nearly running. Wiping drops of cool rain from his face he scanned the group waiting for the bus. Maria was not there.
Taking shelter under a nearby tree, Caden sat on his duffle bag, turned up his collar and re-bundled Adam in his blankets. Would Maria soon be there or had she already been there? No, I went almost directly from the General’s office to the gate. Maria would think to check the security building. She must be coming. He looked around, but did not see her. He wondered if she blamed him for being arrested.
An old school bus, painted like a tie-dyed shirt, rumbled down the lane. With a bang the engine died and the bus rolled the last few feet to the stop. The side door opened and out jumped a man in bib-overalls and gray hair down to his mid-back tied in a ponytail. As he popped the hood, he called over his shoulder, “Be just a minute and we’ll head on our way south folks.”
Caden took a big whiff of the air. Why does everything smell like french-fries?
As the man worked on the engine, a woman in a long, flowery dress stepped out and hung a sign on the side of the bus. Soon she was collecting payment and allowing people onboard.
Caden remained seated as he read the sign. The trip could be paid for with canned food, various ammunition ranging from .22 caliber to shotgun shells, silver or cash. You could ride the bus for a silver quarter or sixty-five paper dollars. Caden rubbed his chin. Either they are gouging riders or inflation is soaring. He sighed. With production across the country falling inflation is probably running unchecked. At sixty-five dollars a person, cash seemed to be the most expensive, but what was the going price of silver?