by Rob Mclean
Christy and Angela had volunteered to give out ‘how to vote’ pamphlets. They set up their trestle table on the side-walk, outside the Claremont City Hall as close as they could to the hall entrance. The generous shade of gracious, leafy maple trees, filtered them from the gathering morning sun as they put out a white tablecloth and neatly laid out their pamphlets. They put up their banners and put on their ‘No’ badges with pride.
Along with a few other members of their church, they stood clustered together, all wearing their white t-shirts with a large brilliant blue ‘No’ in gothic font that had somehow become the uniform. They had come out of a large ‘made in Bangladesh’ cardboard box, held together with industrial-sized staples and full of identical t-shirts sealed in plastic. When it had been handed to her at her church, it had the fresh sharp creases and sharp linen smell, but she had washed it that night – her mother had insisted, you never knew what diseases came from those countries and judging by the quarantine zone they had set up around Cairo, she might be right again. Now it felt a little small and made her feel uncomfortably like she was on display.
Christy, whose t-shirt still had the straight-from-the-packet rectangular creases, told her she looked fabulous and made her feel a bit better.
Aaron wasn’t with them today. Christy explained that he and the rest of the band were playing at another polling place downtown. ‘Good,’ thought Angela. That meant that Zeke was there too. She didn’t know how she felt about him now. Did he still want her? Did he just need more time to get over his pride, or was he punishing her somehow? He had always excluded people from his sphere of friendships if they weren’t willing to play his adoration game.
On the other hand, she felt queasy every time she thought about John’s previous girlfriend - no, his previous sexual partner, doing what she did and then coming home to be with John, to defile him. Could he ever wash her from his soul?
John had texted Angela to apologise for his half-brother’s behaviour - apparently the champagne had loosened his tongue. Also, he wanted to make sure that she had gotten home okay, which was sweet and not something she would have gotten from Zeke. She had tried to assure him that Zeke had ignored her and spent the rest of the afternoon drinking with his friends and that she had left soon after the speeches, but she didn’t think he was convinced.
Angela had made Christy promise not to mention anything about John’s past to anyone. Christy had readily agreed and Angela felt she would be true to her word.
“It’s not so bad,” Christy had pointed out in true Devil’s advocate role, “If all his blood work was to come back clear, that would be okay, wouldn’t it? I mean it’s not like he’s about to run off with her, is it?”
“But what if he thinks that’s how it’s supposed to be? What if he thinks all that kind of stuff is… normal?”
Christy had just given her a sympathetic shrug and said, “If it ever gets to that, then you’ll just have to let him know what’s okay and what’s not. You know, like guide him?”
It seemed like good advice at the time, but Angela wondered if that time would ever come.
“So, how do you think the poll will go?” Christy asked. It seemed she was now avoiding all talk about John and the forbidden subject, but Angela knew her well enough to know it wouldn’t be far from her mind.
People filed past their table, occasionally casting them a bored glance, but mostly ignoring them. After all the efforts that the alien had put in to influence the poll; from giving the theoretical knowledge of cold fusion, the gift of the hover-disc to the Chinese – which, as far as she knew, still hadn’t figured out how it worked – to the world-wide micro-meteorite showers and the boosted auroras, Angela knew that they had little chance of winning. At least that was what the pre-poll surveys had indicated, but she held out hope that things would somehow be different. “It’ll be close,” she said trying to be convincing.
A couple of dozen Muslims came to their table. Probably one big extended family, Angela thought. They made a show of asking for pamphlets and Christy and her helpers were all very friendly and helpful and thanked them for their support. It lifted Angela’s spirits for a moment, but when she saw the long lines of people walking right past, they sank back down again.
“We’re all on the same side now,” Christy said with a flick of her eyes to the Muslims.
“Oh, I know. Funny isn’t it?” In her mind, it was good that they had a belief in God, even though it was the wrong one.
“Did you know that this referendum is not being held in some countries?” Christy asked.
Angela shook her head. She didn’t keep up with world events like Christy did.
“Some governments have already declared their intentions, like China. They’ve all gone full-on for the promises of the alien thingy.” She screwed up her face in disgust. “But in a lot of other countries, their governments have decided already not to hold the referendum and already vowed their dedication to God and religion.”
That brought a smile to Angela’s face. She wondered how the voting was going in other parts of the country. She knew, from the little news she heard, that some states were very against the alien proposal.
“I even heard that some of the Arab countries have finally recognised Israel.” Christy continued. She had always kept up with the world news and could tell you all about the many conflicts around the globe.
“Recognised?” Angela asked. “Were they ignoring them before?” She smiled as she remembered Zeke doing the same thing to her – ignore it and hope it will go away.
“Yeah, but now they’re allies against the great evil one.”
“I thought that was us?”
“Looks like we, the U.S.A., got knocked off that pedestal.”
At that moment they looked up to see the looming bulk of a trio of soldiers, dressed in black protective gear but with their visors up, towering over them. Angela offered them a pamphlet.
“Thank-you so very much,” said one as he stuffed it into one of his many pockets.
“Hey bro, didn’t know you were da churchy type.” Another behemoth said, nudging the first.
“Comes from reading. I keep saying you should try it sometime.”
“Hey, I can read jus’ fine.”
Angela watched the two men bicker like an old married couple and while it was amusing, there was a throng of onlookers banking up behind them.
“Is there anything else we can help you with?” she asked, hoping to move them along.
“Actually honey,” said the third soldier, “we’ve been sent here to look after you.” He was about John’s size, maybe slightly smaller and looked totally bored with everything except the writing on Angela’s t-shirt.
“Sent?” Christy asked, “By who?”
“Her.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, towards a female soldier who was heading their way. “Someone thinks you deserve some special treatment.” He gave Christy a smarmy grin as he spoke. Angela could see her friend’s lips compress. “I’m Kent,” he leaned closer as part of the charm, oblivious to its ineffectiveness, “and these two, well, don’t worry ‘bout them.”
Both Angela and Christy moved back a little.
“Still working on those inter-personal skills, Kent?” the female soldier asked. Although physically dwarfed by the huge soldiers, the way they straightened in her presence, told her who was in charge. Unlike the others, she didn’t wear a helmet. Instead, she wore a BlackSky cap and reflective, wrap-around sunglasses. When she took the sunglasses off and let them hang about her neck, Angela recognised her.
“Oh, you work with John,” Angela said trying to remember the woman’s name. “I’m Angela…”
“Yeah,” Kent smirked, “we all remember Sleeping Beauty.”
Grace shooed him away. “Grace McEwan,” she said to Angela, extending a gloved hand. Angela was sure her own hand would feel limp and soft to this woman. “You’ve met the suave Kent and these are Marcus and Akeem.”
She said “he
llo” to Marcus and Akeem, vaguely remembering them from the nightclub.
“And yes, Johnny sent us to look after you and your friends.” she waved her hand lazily to encompass all the ‘no’ petitioners.
“Isn’t that thoughtful?” Christy smiled with mock cheerfulness.
“It’s for your protection,” Akeem told her. She had a feeling that was a phrase she would be hearing a lot from now on, but she could tell from his sombre tone that he meant it. The on-line opinion polls portrayed the religious as being all that stood in the way of a glorious galactic Jetson’s future, free of all energy, food and health worries.
“Does every polling booth get this… service?” Angela asked. She suspected that after Zeke had unexpectedly appeared at Libby’s engagement, John was now ‘protecting’ her from further ex-boyfriend surprises.
“That’s what BlackSky is contracted to do in the L.A. district and most of the west coast. Other companies got contracts in other cities over east.” Grace waved Akeem and Marcus away, motioning for them to stand guard further away.
She then leaned in closer to Angela, “But Johnny did specifically ask that you especially were looked after.” She gave Angela an approving look. “And I can see why.”
Within her too small t-shirt, Angela blushed. Christy giggled.
“I sure hope you and Johnny can get your happys going, but I can’t say I like your chances, what with you swimming against the tide,” she nodded at the group of ‘no’ supporters.
Angela wondered where this Grace woman fitted into John’s life. “You’re not his boss, are you?”
Grace laughed. “No. You’ve never met her, have you? You wouldn’t forget her.”
Angela shot a quick glance at Christy, who was listening to every word. “How does John get on with her? Do you think she… um and John… have ever, um…”
“What? Hooked up?” Grace laughed again. “Don’t think so, but…,” she saw that Angela was hanging on her answer. “Well, she’s a very focussed and determined woman and if she wanted something I’m sure she’d be trying real hard to get it.” Grace smiled at the worried look on Angela’s face, as she added, “But I wouldn’t worry, I don’t think he’d do the two-timing thing. He’s not that sort of guy, and besides, I’m pretty sure ‘corporate zombie’ isn’t really Johnny’s type.”
Angela grinned at that image, but in truth, some mornings, going to work at the bookshop had felt much the same.
“He’s more likely to be the type to doggedly stick with someone long after he should have moved on.”
Angela thought she might be talking about his ex, and she was tempted to ask her, but maybe John hadn’t shared that part of his life with her. However, Grace was surveying the ‘vote no’ banner fluttering overhead and Angela realised she was the one Grace must be referring to.
“Have you voted yet?” Angela asked, changing the subject and offering Grace a pamphlet.
“Don’t bother sweetie. Made up my mind about all that soon after my second husband left.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be,” Grace turned and called over her shoulder as she moved away, “getting rid of him was the biggest blessing ever.”
Angela watched her walk over to Akeem and Marcus who were still squabbling. Kent looked like he was scanning the crowds, but more likely just checking out the women.
“Well, she seemed nice,” Christy said, then before Angela could reply, “hey, do you want a coffee? I’ll get you one.”
“Sure, why not?” They weren’t busy, in fact people were avoiding them as if they had the Egyptian plague. They were rostered on until midday and as it was only just ten, it was looking to be a long, boring shift.
She watched Christie’s long black ponytail sway as she weaved her way through the crowds. In her wake, head turning and gestures showed that people were talking about her. By the looks on their faces, they weren’t kind comments. Was she imagining it, or was there really that much resentment to her cause? Didn’t people want God in their lives? She couldn’t imagine a world without God, or the consequences if the vote didn’t go their way. A world without God was a world of empty darkness. How could all these people want that?
Angela heard her mother’s words echo in her head; that in the Bible, God had been rejected before, but always with disastrous results. She looked around the leafy urbane street and wondered what that might mean for her world.
Christy returned a short while later with a coffee in each hand. She crossed the street to avoid Kent, whose head turned to follow her as she passed.
As they sipped their coffees, more helpers arrived wearing the ‘no’ t-shirts. They weren’t people the girls knew, being from other churches. Some were even of different religions, but they were greeted as welcome comrades. The latecomers soon showed that they were determined to make up for their late arrival by being more pro-active in handing out leaflets.
Thrusting pamphlets onto people brought mixed results. Most politely took the proffered material and took it with them inside the voting hall, but many others simply refused. There were some who took the pamphlets and made a show of ripping them up or dropping them in the bins. A few threw the ripped up papers back into the faces of their antagonists. A few angry words were exchanged, but the presence of the BlackSky security figures stopped things from escalating.
Angela would have liked to tell the over-zealous workers to relax and to have more faith in God, that all that transpired here today was all part of His plan, but she wasn’t entirely sure of it herself. She and Christy both agreed that they would be glad when midday came and their shift would be over.
As time passed and lunch-time drew nearer, Angela and Christy had spent most of their time doing nothing. They readied and tidied the supply of pamphlets that were never much in demand. They stood and waited, but overall, they were mostly ignored by the vast majority of people. Nearby, three tables of ‘yes’ helpers worked flat out. By the time noon came, Angela’s mood was at a low ebb.
“I think it’s all been a waste of time,” Angela said as she straightened a pile of pamphlets for the umpteenth time.
Christy simply nodded in return.
“What will it mean if the referendum’s lost?” Angela asked, mostly to herself. “They can’t really outlaw religion, can they?”
Before Christy could answer, Angela saw Chelsea coming up the street towards them. She too was wearing a white ‘no’ t-shirt, but with torn, black jeans and heavy Goth accessories. Today her otherwise black hair had been tinged blue at the ends.
Angela nudged Christy. “Hey it’s Chelsea.”
They watched as the crowds parted before her, many openly stared. Even from a distance, Angela could tell that her mood was not good.
“Hey,” Chelsea said. She stood a little removed from Angela and Christie and leafed through a pamphlet. “What’s happening?”
Christie stepped up and gave Chelsea a welcoming hug. “Hey, yourself. What’s with you?”
Chelsea locked eyes with Angela. “Nothing.” Angela felt the hostility behind the word, but she could also hear that she was troubled by something.
“I didn’t know you were helping today,” Angela said as she stepped forwards to give Chelsea a hug.
“Don’t.” Chelsea recoiled and held her hands up to stop her.
Having been friends since they were kids, Angela felt the rejection deep in her soul. A rush of anger flared through her mind and she was tempted to turn away, lest she was to say something hurtful, but that emotion was swamped by a flood of pity. Her friend was hurting and she was sure it wasn’t just because of her. She mentally braced herself, took a big breath and wrapped her arms around her friend.
Chelsea’s body felt rigid. “I said don’t.” She tried to twist free of Angela’s embrace. “I’m mad at you.”
“I know,” Angela rubbed her back and held her tighter, “and I’m sorry.”
After a few moments of holding her tight, Angela felt Chelsea’s stiffne
ss melt and her shoulders slump.
“No-one ever listens to me,” Chelsea said with a strangled sob and slumped to the ground.
Angela sent Christy a questioning look before she knelt beside Chelsea and kept rubbing her back. Christy shrugged and knelt on the other side and put an arm around her friend.
“We’re listening, sister,” Christy said.
“It’s my parents.” Chelsea’s voice was almost inaudible.
“Are they okay?” Angela asked.
“No, they’re not,” Chelsea snapped. Angela was stunned at the anger in her friend’s voice. Her hand hovered over Chelsea’s back for a moment before she reminded herself that she was there to help her friend.
“Whatever it is…”
“They’re going to vote ‘yes’ today.” Chelsea’s hands scrunched up the hem of her t-shirt. “How can they do that?”
“But, what about the church?” Christy asked. She look as confused as Angela felt.
“Don’t you understand? They’re leaving the church.”
“Leaving?” Angela echoed.
“Yup. After all those years…” Tears filled her eyes. “It was all lies. They never believed. They were only there for the contacts, the networking. Good for business, you see?” Black mascara tears rolled freely down her cheeks.
“But what about you?” Christy asked. “You’re still with us, yeah?”
Chelsea’s red, puffy eyes made a lie of the big smile she put on as she pulled her t-shirt out. “I’m here and they can go to hell for all I care.” She lifted her clenched jaw, but her bravado crumpled a moment later and her head collapsed onto her knees and anguished sobs wracked her thin body.
Both Angela and Christy hugged her and tried to soothe her, but Angela knew that they had to let her grieve her parents. Nothing they could say now would lessen her loss and feelings of betrayal.
While Chelsea cried, Angela tried to work out how things would go for her friend, but her thoughts kept coming back to Zeke and how he must be feeling.
Chapter 24
Ling Zou took one last look at her tired reflection. With a final brush of powder on her cheeks and a resigned sigh, she satisfied herself that she was as attractive as she was ever likely to be in this prison.