WRITING: What do you do when the secret police show up for you? (An index card novel)

It was increasingly hard to stay on the right side of the law. Red light cameras. Complex tax and financial rules in general (i.e., cash withdrawals are limited to one dollar per day). Forms arrive daily to be filled out for this and that. Travel permits are required to enter each “crime prevention zone”. Guns were a long ago memory. Knives were being collected now. Excessive food “hording” was also prohibited. Computers and the internet were carefully tracked. It was expensive to keep every bit or byte, but “Big Sister” did. “Free medical care” translated to crapy care for those that had jobs; rationing for the old, the sick, and the unemployed. Drugs, weapons, gold, and other contraband led to home searches. At the grocery store, “medicine” conflicted with liberty. Each individual had to shop for themselves. Your citizen id card allowed you certain things, but not others. Your calorie and mix was limited. One benefit of the grocery store was gossip. Person to person. Like prisoners in a jail. Rumors spread like wildfire. One was that after so many “cautions”, the family got a trip out of town. There was a lot of discussion of how many people had. Each week, when someone didn’t show up, their number was known. It appeared to be 21.

This wasn’t lost on the fat old man. When he got to 19, he figured his time was due. No family, no job, no real friends. He had nothing to lose. He remembered someone once said: “The most dangerous man in the world is the man who has nothing left to lose.” He went to his backyard and dug under a planter. It was hard work to go down three feet. He took the plastic tube and went to his garage. A hacksaw liberated the contents. One 1911 in a vacuum sealed bag. He worked the action. He went to his closet and sat down. Covered himself from the waist down with a blanket. And, said his Act of Contrition. Churches had long since been closed, but he remembered the prayers.

The Homeland Security Caution Collection Crew was led by a Sargent. He had a six man squad. The pulled up at the address list for the old man. They kicked in the door and spread out through out the house. “No one here, Sarge. He’s running.” “Why, there’s no where to go. Check under the beds and look everywhere.” With that Sarge opened the closet door. His face was blown away. Two more of them bought it before they killed the old man. They called for back up and the Lieutenant. The Lt promoted one of them and called for reinforcements. At HQ, the loss was reported. The General told the Colonel: “We need to recruit more loyal men for the CCC. I see a trend here.”

Will they run out of “loyal men” before we run out of “closet patriots”?

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