aaron_the fall of america_chapter_26

Chapter 26

I woke up remembering a dream I had as a child. It was a sunny summer day and I was out playing with the neighbourhood boys and girls. We had discovered a slide. The slide went clear up into the cotton clouds. Without hesitation we started crawling up.

Because it was there.

On our hands and knees we climbed. When we were fairly high up, the other five or six children thought we shouldn't go any higher. I couldn't see the sense in getting half way to give up our goal. I wanted to reach the cloud. I continued alone up the silvery-white slide, determined to see to where it led. I hadn't questioned my determination or the possibilities that lay hidden beyond what I could see.

Finally, I poked my head through the cloud to look inside. It was terror. Giant storks screamed disapproval of my unsolicited visit. I knew there would be no explaining, no hope for pardon. My intrusion had broken an unspoken law of which I was ignorant. While the storks screamed in a frenzy of anger, I vanished down the slide fearing they would take action.

The next morning, I went to the kitchen to eat my breakfast. I bent to get my Shreddies out of the cupboard; when I stood with Shreddies, spoon and bowl in hand, I saw it, a slide from the clouds, right in our back yard.

I had little time for fear or guilt.

A giant stork was racing down the slide at full tilt. I had no time to react; I had no script for my part. The stork crashed through the wall of our house as if it had no mass. He missed me by a few meters and couldn't stop his momentum even with all his flailing of his feet and wings. He kept sliding through the house, heading straight toward the armchair where my father sat reading the morning-paper.

I woke just before my father's inevitable death.

My father wasn't as lucky in another one of my childhood dreams. My grandfather, my father and I were on our way to somewhere in a green army jeep. We had to get to where we were going in a limited time. We would be late by way of the main road, thus had to take the short cut. The short cut was across jungle land on a muddy road. Although the jeep was made to traverse such terrain, the road became impassable. We were stuck. I can't remember the difference between alligators and crocodiles, something about their noses or their sizes. I think these particular monstrous lizards were crocodiles. Whatever they were by name, they were indiscriminately hungry by nature. They quickly ate my grandfather. As soon as they had finished him, the great reptiles ate my father.

It was inevitable that I was next to be consumed. I resorted to my only obvious escape; I woke up.

My father was in my dream again last night. There was another man with us but I didn't know him; he was at the other end of the swing stage. Unless we were there to repair something, we must have been cleaning windows. Those details were unclear.

As we floated down the ropes on our swing stage, a hurricane force wind suddenly blew up and made our landing rough. It looked as though the other man and my father would escape injury but I wasn't so lucky. I tumbled over the side of the swing stage onto a railing or something of the nature. Someone watched as I twisted into a painful distortion. Consciousness escaped me.

When I regained consciousness, everything looked the way things should have looked but I was positive it was wrong. I went on about my daily business, as I thought I should, with the people I thought must have been my friends and family.


Everyone acted as though nothing was wrong. But still, I could sense things weren't quite what they seemed to be. When we were waiting for a seat in a restaurant, I suddenly had to know what year it was. I was fervent with people. They though I was being silly. Eventually someone told me that it was 4067.

Although impossible, I knew it was true. Over two thousand years had passed and the world was conducted the same as it had been.

In another dream, Karna was chained to the side of a rock cliff. With a struggle, I could get to where she was but I couldn't carry anything with which to cut her loose. I couldn't carry any food or water. I was unable to wear clothes. The only thing I could do to keep her alive was to make the long climb after a large meal, so that I could vomit in her mouth.

I could see Karna's stomach raising up and falling down.

I wanted to cut my flesh with a large knife. I didn't want to die, only to bleed. If I was lying in a pool of my blood, I could focus and be directly involved in the urgency of the moment. I would be freed from the hell of decisions.

I felt a hand on my head. It drew me to my skin where I discovered I was covered in sweat.

"Christ, it's hot."

"Are you feeling all right?"

"It's bloody hot," I repeated and sat up to look at Karna. "Is it morning? What happened to last night. God almighty, am I hungry. Let's check out of this place."

"Can I wash first?"

"Yes, good idea. Me too."

We were soon out on the street looking for a place to eat. I began to worry. I worried about: what I didn't know, Karna being susceptible to viruses and diseases, foreign diseases I might have brought back, about getting caught, about someone asking a simple question and I'd explode and about feeling out of place on my own planet.

After I started recognising forms and patterns, I calmed enough to function.

"This place looks like it will do."

"What will it do?"

"Supply us with an adequate breakfast."

We entered a small opened kitchen restaurant. Greasy spoon, would sum up the description. We sat on red vinyl benches spotted with cigarette burns. Behind the serviettes, salt and pepper, sugar, vinegar and bottle of ketchup that was most likely filled with a cheaper rotten tomato jelly other than the faded label indicated, was a menu with poor spelling and altered prices. There were four breakfast specials that appeared no more special than the ordering of the separate items. I was glad to see all was normal.

"Coffees," a voice said and placed two coffees along with two plastic containers of an edible oil product on our table.

"Ah," I said.

It was too late. She was already gone to pick up two specials for another table. When I looked up from my menu the next time, the woman was standing at our table patiently but ready to leave as soon as we gave her our requests.

"Two number twos over easy but not too easy so that the whites aren't at all runny."

"Two number twos?"

"Yes, please and can that be with brown bread and can I have a water."

"Is that it?"

"Yes, thank you."

The waitress ordered two number twos with brown from the cook and returned with two waters and another special for a neighbouring table. I watched the man start at his French fries while finishing his cigarette. When his cigarette was burnt to the butt, he salted his fries and eggs and sprinkled vinegar and poured ketchup on his fries. He dipped his toast in his runny eggs and I could see that the white wasn't completely cooked. I didn't like that so I went back to concentrating on my own table. The coffee was bitter so I dropped in some sugar. Karna wasn't drinking her coffee.

I looked to see if anyone was watching me. No one seemed overly interested. One man was interested in Karna's hair. I looked at her hair as well. It might have been that the man was a little surprised about it. It appeared a little out of place along side the smoke stained walls.

"I think we'll go straight to my parents after we eat. Then we'll go north."

Karna was watching me. She might have been watching me from the time we sat down. She might want a little more explanation, since everything was for the first time for her.

I couldn't think of anything to tell her.

"But first we need food."

Karna seemed unnaturally relaxed. More relaxed than I would be if I had eaten breakfast in the same place for the last eight years. I couldn't wait much longer for my food.

"There you are," said the food.

"Yes, here I am."

A knife and fork were placed beside my plate.

"Thank you."

The waitress was already gone.

"Take fork in left hand like this and knife in right hand like this," I said. "And shovel food into receptacle."

Looking at my food, I wondered if I should eat it. If my stomach hadn't been so excited from the smell, I might have resisted. The toast and French fries looked digestible but the bacon and eggs frightened me. I couldn't remember why I wanted bacon. I couldn't even remember the last time I had eaten bacon. To add to my dilemma, Karna only ate her toast and some of her fries. Without farther reserve, I consumed all on my plate and the remainder on Karna's.

It wasn't long before I felt small creatures creeping from my crawling skin. They travelled in my sweat. When they surfaced, they stormed my head in an attempt to bore into my brain. They were attempting to overthrow my command. I fought to focus.

"Would you like anything else?"

There was a grossly overweight, pale white beast lurking beside me, plugging her grimace in at me.

"What?"

"Did you want anything else?"

I might have once. Why was the beast probing in to my past? "What else was there?"

She frowned and shook her head. She looked much like our waitress. Only a little more possessed. It was likely another test. I was in a restaurant. I knew about restaurants so I should be all right. My plate was empty. The seat across from me was empty. Someone disappeared. Or did someone go to wash their hands? What had the waitress woman wanted? Where was Karna? Was the waiting woman supposed to be in my dream?

"Would you like anything else? More coffee or something."

"I don't know. Do you have any fresh, red, raw, living, bleeding, twitching meat? Do you have a live chicken? Even a sewer rat. A Cockroach. A maggot. Something alive. Still alive. I want something still alive. Meat."

"Pardon me."

"Consider it done."

"Are you all right, Mister?"

There was that question again.

"All right!" I demanded. "Are you all right?" Is anything all right? Is anything even a little bit right?"

"Excuse me."

"No. Not anymore."

She left shaking her head. She was soon talking to the man with the flipper at the big flat hot plate. He stopped flipping embryos and pulled out some large deep fried slugs from boiling pig fat. He looked at me. They both looked at me as did the old man at the counter who had a cigarette and a cup of coffee in one hand. He held a paper in the other hand that he looked at once more before looking back at me.

I saw that the telephone was not yet looked at. I tried to avoid looking at them or the telephone. I wondered if they knew whom to call. Maybe they didn't want the authorities to rush in.

Karna sat down. She opened her mouth and her face fell into her neck. As her hair disappeared, her teeth grew. Blood was dripping over her shoulders. She had obviously just eaten someone. Her insatiable appetite had been awoken. I had brought a monster back to Earth. Already, was I responsible for at least one death. I had to try to kill her before she terrorised my people.

I picked up the only weapon I could find, the butter knife. I had to try. Maybe someone would help me if I made the first move. I could feel my blood freeze with fear. With my last reserve of strength, I dove across the table. I tried to scream but vomit filled my throat. She bit through my head. It exploded with millions of tiny monsters erupting from my gapping wound. I burst into flames and turned into a giant bird that flew up into the sun.

Or so I thought.

"Where am I?"

"We are in a park."

"What park?"

"I do not know. It was the first one we found."

"Who's we?"

"The woman from the restaurant and me."

"Why did you bring me here?"

"After we cleaned you, changed your clothes and tended to the minor wound you incurred tumbling to the floor with the plates and glasses, the woman suggested you get some fresh air."

"How many people did you eat?"

"People?"

"You ate someone. I saw you in your other form. I know what you are."

Karna studied me.

"Why haven't you eaten me?"

"I don't understand."

"You will have to kill me because I won't let you do what you did. You will be stopped. If not by me, someone will. You'll leave traces. Someone will stop you."

She touched my face. I was about to scream but her touch controlled me. She made me believe what had happened wasn't real. I could see I would soon set it aside as a horrible hallucination. I could only imagine her capable of loving me. I wanted her to put her arm around me at the same time that she did.

"Sorry."

The surrounding's started filling up my senses. I was starting to remember who I was and how thing were.

"How do you feel?"

"Better."

"You look better."

"Did the cow make us pay for that terrible breakfast?"

"What cow? What is a cow?"

"I mean our waitress, the woman who served us."

"She didn't ask for money. She just wanted you to rest in a park."

"I've got to slow down."

"You are not moving."

"That's a good start. Now, if I can relax and straighten things out, I'll be ready for..."

"Hey, Mister."

"What?"

"Are you lost, Mister?"

"What?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me. What's wrong with you?"

"You don't look good, Mister."

"You aren't the prettiest either."

"You're a stranger."

"What do you want, Kid?"

"You're not from around here, are you?" he went on.

"What's your point?"

"Where you from?"

"Canada."

"And where's that, outer space?"

"North of Kansas."

"North of Kansas," he pondered.

"It's in Maine," I offered.

"It must be a small place then. I've never heard of it."

"There's probably a few things you haven't heard of."

"I'm in grade six, I know quite a lot."

"I suppose you would."

"Yup."

"Okay, who's the president?"

"Doctor Reverent Burns."

"Okay, that's one."

"Ask another."

"What's the population of America?"

"Five hundred and eighty million."

"You're a pretty smart kid."

"I'm not a kid. I'm almost thirteen."

"My apologies."

"Let me ask you something now."

"Nothing too hard. I'm a little tired."

"Why aren't your eyes red?"

"Should they be?"

"She's not your wife."

"Is that not good?"

"Where's she from?"

"Chile."

"Where's that?"

"South America."

"We're in South America; don't try to be funny. I've never heard of Chile. Why won't you tell me. What State is it in?"

"Not the best."

"West?"

"On the coast."

"California. You tried to trick me. That's why you bleach your hair isn't it? You don't tan very well though. Are you going to get married?"

"Are you a cop?"

"What's a cop?"

"Police."

"Of course not, dummy. I'm still too young."

"Do you want to be a cop?"

"No. I want to be on TV."

"Naturally."

"What's your favourite show on TV, Mister?"

"I don't have one."

"Everyone has a favourite."

"I don't have a TV."

The kid looked at me for a minute. He wasn't sure why I had told him that.

"Everyone has a TV. You have to have a TV or you won't know anything. What would you do at night if you didn't have a TV?"

"Read."

"What for? It's a waist of money to buy magazines if everything's on TV?"

"True enough. I like rock and roll as well."

"What's that?"

"What's what?"

"What you said."

"Rock and Roll?"

"Ya, what's that? Isn't that illegal?"

"Not the last time I checked?"

"I don't believe you. I want to know why you don't have a TV. I think there's something wrong with you."

"Aren't you supposed to be in school or something."

"Not on Saturday, Dummy."

"Aren't you missing your cartoons?"

"I'm recording them."

"Of course."

"Tell me why you don't have a TV."

"Because it's government manipulated propaganda that torments you with paranoia while giving you a false sense of security. It makes you believe the most hideous lies, steals your time and makes you a slave to a frightfully finite consumer idiocy."

"Do you believe in God?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Something's wrong with you."

"Is it wrong not to believe in God."

"You don't watch TV."

"Okay."

"That's what's wrong with you. You don't know nothing."

"At least I know where I stand now."

"Are you owned by the devil? You work for him."

"Don't get too crazy, kid. I've had enough of that today."

"What's the devil?" Karna asked.

We were both surprised to hear her voice.

"You are!" he screeched.

Although Karna's head was sitting properly on her shoulders with out the slightest hint of monster features, the boy was terrified. I knew paranoia well enough to know there was nothing I could say to help him. He feared us both. I didn't even dare move as he backed up slowly. He was starting to tremble.

"Shit," I said. "Relax, Kid. You're had a sugar overdose or something. There's no devil here, we're just tired tourist being a little too weary to cope with an excited kid."

He flew like a bat out of hell.

"I shouldn't have spoken," Karna said.

"Why?"

"I shouldn't have been ignorant of something that everyone appears to know."

"Me either. I have a feeling there's something I don't know that could get us in trouble."

"Can we learn about what we don't know?"

"We better try. First we'll check into another motel, then we'll buy a paper and a few magazines and watch some news on television."

We checked into a modest motel and watched the television in our room until I couldn't stand it anymore. It seemed little different than it ever was, with game shows, soap operas and talk shows. There might have been a stronger hint to Christian morality in the soap operas than I would have expected but American television always had a Christian undertone.

The kid that had talked to us said the President was a Reverend. This would make things different but I wasn't sure how much. The news, which seemed a little more contrived than I remembered, failed to mention anything outside of America. I hadn't watched American news enough in the past to know if that was unusual.

I left Karna to rest in the room when I went out to get a newspaper, a couple magazines and some food.

After we had some sandwiches, I turned on the television again and tried to read the newspaper and the magazines. Nothing enlightened me. The more I read, the less informed I thought I was becoming. It all seemed sterile and even lacked somewhat in being reactionary.

The prime time shows, which I remembered as being directed at a fairly low mentality before I left, were painfully banal.

Finally, at nine, we watched an old John Wayne movie that I vaguely remembered. It was the typical American movie where trouble was solved with bullets and the hero was loved by all.

Karna, although she couldn't watch for too long at a time because it strained her eyes, was fascinated at the mentality of the message. It fascinated me to think that most likely every American watched several hours of television a day without questioning it.

"I don't know how different things are;" I said, "maybe I was ignorant of the situation before I left, but there's something pathetic and sad about this country. I'm a little lost here, but since I was also lost before I left, it's difficult for me to know what it is that's most disturbing."

"Are other countries different than America?"

"I hope they still are, but being different doesn't always mean better."

I decided we should go out for a little snack and maybe visit a couple bars to see what people were talking about, maybe see why the Canadian Hockey teams were no longer in the National Hockey League and why the National Hockey League was now called the American Hockey League. That worried me the most, especially since Toronto was a good hockey club when I left.

I had to be careful not to ask questions to show my ignorance but if we were to visit a sports bar there would most certainly be heated discussions to overhear.

After learning little, which may have told me something, we finally came out of the last bar around one in the morning. Since I seldom went to bars in Florida, I wasn't sure if one o'clock closing was a new rule in that state. What I did remember though was street prostitution and strip bars, both of which I found no sign of.

We walked back toward our motel observing the night life. Although there appeared to be drunkenness, people were relatively quiet for a Saturday night, especially considering the Orlando Rockets hockey team won that night, beating my favourite team, the Boston Bruins.

I reflected on how I missed playing hockey and how it was such an important event for me until I had moved to Florida.

"Funny."

"What is?"

"Hockey. Sports. Teams. Winning. And why and how it's so important."

"It's interesting."

"I think what bothers me, is that it's too calm. It's not as calm as your planet, of course, but I think it's too calm for this one. People are being so careful."

A group of young men and a few young women were practically marching up the street. An oriental fellow was especially upset. He was having trouble containing his anger. After walking by us, the upset fellow took some of his frustration out on a garbage can. He kicked it a few times before it fell out onto the street. Two cops, who had just turned the nearby corner in their van, stopped to investigate the commotion. They were going to bring down the law.


The troubled youth had decided to go back to confront his previous problem. He hadn't noticed that the cops had stopped because of him. As the one cop rounded the back of the van, the troubled youth was passing in full flight. The big law enforcer stuck he leg out neatly. It was like a television show. The criminal, garbage can abuser, took a nosedive into the pavement. He was getting a lesson in police brutality.

The fellow was raving mad at the cop. To calm him down, the cop beat him relentlessly in the kidneys with his billy-stick. The cop seemed to grow larger. He fed on his power. He wanted to kill the garbage can kicker as a lesson for anyone else who might show disrespect for city property. The cop wouldn't stop.

A young woman from the group jumped on the cop to try to stop him from killing her friend. The other cop grabbed her and the can kicker by the hair to pull them off. There was arguing about the confrontation and the young woman declared that the cop didn't need to be so rough. She was missing the point. They were the law club. They had to be rough because it was their only therapy to ease their disturbed childhood.

The scuffle continued with a few more people joining in. The can kicker and the girl friend managed to escape. The abused youth was determined to go back to further object to his unwarranted beating but his friend wouldn't allow him. They hurried down the street as best as their beaten bodies could move. The young man appeared badly injured and had trouble running.

They disappeared across a parking lot as five more police cars came rushing to the scene. They must have wanted in on the beating.

"What is happening?" Karna asked.

"They have laws here to control people, he was in direct violation of respectful use of a garbage container."

"He must be beaten?"

"That's how they like to do it. The police club enforces laws by punishing offenders."

"What does that achieve?"

"It will teach people to fear and hate authority. That gives the authority an element of control."

"Who are the authorities?"

"No one knows really. People with position and power. It's always been like that."

"That's frightening."

"Civilisation is a new concept for us. We inevitably tend towards violence, especially when we become over crowded and the wealth of a country funnels up into the hands of a few mad men."



read on. book_02 chapter_27



by Joanne B. Washington

© 2001 | the jose wombat project