CW2, D.R. SMITH [little readers .TXT] 📗

a whispered voice. It would be her dedication to this plan she was developing that would steer her actions. That commitment would enable her to sit in front of Ted today and say exactly what he needed to hear spill from her mouth. “Get out there and do this!” She turned and flushed the unused toilet and stepped through the door.

Now sitting on a couch in the entry area of Ted’s office, she carried herself confidently and assuredly into the travel discussion.

“Mick… you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I know the outlying areas can be… well… a bit scary for… well… you know” Ted stuttered and danced around stating the obvious. An African American in militia territory could end up facing groups that were intolerant and even hateful and violent towards people of her race. Micky raised her hand to prevent Ted from saying anything else regarding the rural dangers.

“Ted… look. I’m a grown woman with a family” she stated in a slightly guarded tone. “They, more than I, would be the reason I’d refrain from joining the crew. My son. My husband.” She paused for a moment watching to see how Ted was absorbing her rationalization. She then continued.

“I have one question though” She paused and again, carefully thought about her next words. “And your answer could be the deciding factor for me concerning this trip”

“Sure. Fire away” Ted said with a touch of curiosity hidden beneath his voice.

“If he’s interested, could my son Brandon come with me?” she asked. Ted, who had been leaning forward on the edge of the sofa, grimaced slightly and defensively sat up and back, crossing his arms. He appeared to be ready to spew out an immediate reaction. But McKenna held up a ‘hold on a second’ finger to silence his knee-jerk rebuttal.

“Wait a second Ted… let me finish. He’s 17 now and definitely would be absolutely no trouble. I want you to consider the closed-up brick and cement life these kids are enduring right now. Imagine how this could lure Brandon into a career path similar to his mother’s” Once she had finished her little sales pitch, she paused with anticipation of a positive answer. Ted liked her and he had met Brandon and was immensely impressed with his maturity and good manners.

Now showing very little expression on his face, he raised his eyes to look into McKenna’s. In less than 15 seconds, Ted’s mind had argued with itself, reviewing all the issues of seats in the chopper, food for the trip, sleeping space in the outpost tents. When all was said and done, it really wouldn’t be that big a deal. And besides, he wanted Mick to be happy here and would be thrilled to have her son working towards a position with EnerTech.

Mckenna broke into a ‘cutesy’ tight lipped smile that screamed out ‘pretty please?’. Hopefulness was written all over her face. She raised her brows as if to say “Huh? What do you think?” There was a lengthy 30 seconds of silence and then Ted suddenly leaned forward again.

“Oh… alright! What the heck! Why not! Unusual times breed unusual policies!” Ted broke into a smile of relief while McKenna, who was totally elated, raised two clenched fists with a tiny screechy cheer, and said “Thank you sooo much Ted!”

They both stood up and shook hands, something not commonly done following the pandemic.

“So I take it your answer is yes?” Ted queried.

“Oh yeah… Yes, it is yes!” McKenna reassured. And now I just have to FIND Brandon and tell him, she thought.

CHAPTER 2B

Chapter 2B

 

 

 

 

Three Years Earlier

 

 

McKenna Rogers lay with her eyes wide open, sleep having fled 15 minutes ago. The poofed up mound of her pillow concealed one eye while the other stared at the back of her husband’s head. He was definitely still deep in slumber as the slow rise and fall of his back confirmed. With him unaware of her piercing gaze, it felt as though she had an opportunity to secretly scan his thoughts. His dreams. What he was planning to do in the upcoming weeks.

The President of The United States had just issued further lockdown rules accompanied by executive ordered gun restriction and confiscation laws that would certainly trigger a Right Wing retort. The question now was, how severe that retort would be.

Talk of a Civil War had been circulating through the ranks of both the Right and Left wing populace for months. Cooperation between sides had been reduced to a façade of placating courtesies and the explosiveness of the situation could be felt anywhere in public. One would be on edge just watching obvious adversaries pass each other in an aisle at the grocery store and would leave you thinking, could this be the incident that will ignite the maelstrom?

Mick had observed not only this public display of civil tension and discordant critical mass, but the domestic version of it as well… within the very walls of her home. Daryl was becoming nearly intolerable with rage as he absorbed each scrap of information gleaned from Left Wing media outlets that were clearly fanning the flame of dissension nationwide. With each and every crumb of news that was reported with an undeniable Leftist slant, she saw her spouse of 15 years growing more and more distant from family life and drawn deeper and deeper into the world of Socialistic rebellion.

Now, lying in the silent and delicate peace of their bedroom, Mick contemplated how far this could all go. Would her husband end up standing in front of other U.S. citizens with a weapon in his hand aimed to kill? Would she and her son be swept into the conflict regardless of their lack of conviction to one side or the other? More importantly, with her spooned behind this man she had trusted with so many years of her life, feeling the love that had brought them through many of life’s challenges and joys together, she now questioned whether she could stand behind his decisions and choices regardless of how irrational they may at some point appear. Prioritization would steer her motherly instincts in putting her son’s safety first and in directing him down the correct path through this mess.

The darkness was suddenly pierced with the sound of the buzzing alarm. Though the abrupt blast had caused McKenna to nearly jump out of her skin, Daryl had merely stirred slowly to life. She pulled herself over his awakening shoulder and kissed his ear in an erotic and sensuous way. The man drew up a deep breath before speaking with his half pillow covered voice.

“You know babe, as arousing as that is, it’s not fair to tease me right before I have to head off to work”. Mick breathed a snort of a laugh, still gently caressing his earlobe with her soft lips. He rolled over in her direction, placing him directly into her arms in an embrace. Their eyes met first, followed by their lips, touching in soft pouty kisses. The whole encounter was guarded with caution and restraint as both participants knew what time it was and where they needed to be in less than an hour and a half. After their faces drew slightly apart, Micky’s hand slid up the side of Daryl’s head as her fingers ran deep into his hair. She was tempted to pull him back towards her again, but knew better.

“We need to get moving” She said quietly while smiling. He smiled back and, in a strategic move that would insure a step in the right direction, he began tickling her. After a minute or two of laughter and a momentary wrestling match, both adults had bounced out of bed and begun their individual morning rituals. Mom paused from her routine to crack open the bedroom door and shout out into the dark hallway.

“BRANDON!! ARE YOU UP?”

“Yeah mom. I’m up”, came the sleepy but coherent reply. The 14-year-old young man who occupied the room at the other end of the hallway was in fact already in the hall bathroom brushing his teeth. Brandon Rogers had been raised to be responsible and self-sufficient and although a fairly common practice, mom’s ‘reveley’ shout was actually unnecessary. Brandon would always accept it with a slight eye roll and a half smile. The young man tossed the toothbrush up onto the mostly empty cabinet shelf and then flipped the mirrored door closed. His lips stretched back from his gritted teeth to reveal the sparkling white masterpiece his brushing effort had produced.

Suddenly captured in an eye-to-eye stare, the face that now stared back had questions in its eyes. At 14, Brandon was beginning to formalize his own perception of the world he lived in. It was impossible to turn on the TV, browse the internet, or connect on social media without being reminded of the deteriorating condition of the country they were living in. Additionally, as he would associate with school friends, neighborhood acquaintances, and even his own parents he would hear ideals, political opinions, and frightening predictions of what this strained political environment would soon cause. With maturity came self-procured perspectives. These ‘newly developed adult views’ cultivated a specific and unique set of beliefs. Those beliefs became the drive an individual would fight to preserve.

Brandon was truly feeling a will to fight for what he now believed in and those ideals and beliefs unfortunately did not align with his father’s. It had become difficult to determine where his mother stood on all of this. On several occasions, Brandon had found himself biting his tongue while listening to his dad rant and rave about the Conservative Militias that had begun to form around the country and how illegal and unconstitutional it all was. Having read and re-read the U.S. Constitution, Brandon knew there were provisions in the second amendment for the people to own and bear arms and that those provisions had been put in place for the very issues that were beginning to arise. When Brandon would voice his opinion regarding these things, he was quick to notice his mother’s supporting nod or even a positive comment or two backing his stance. Daryl’s overbearing heavy handed approach to being a parent and a spouse would generally squash the argument though and leave McKenna and her son quieted.

Once in the kitchen, the three members of the Rogers family began preparing their own version of breakfast-on-the-run. A banana. A couple Pop Tarts. A bowl of Wheaties. All of this while the wall mounted TV blared out todays CNN version of the news.

“Earlier today, riots broke out in seven states as Right Wing Conservatives began threatening a civil war in opposition to President Brayden’s signing of the Assault Rifle Buy Back legislation” the anchorman read. “Unlike previous civil war threats, shots were fired and several people were either killed or injured. Police attempted…”

“Incredible. Absolutely incredible.” Daryl said shaking his head and talking over the broadcast. “That is a law signed into existence by a duly elected President of The United States. You would think those dumbass country yahoo’s on the right would finally get that into their heads”

“Well dad, you kept saying that you would never recognize anything President Turner did because you felt he didn’t legitimately win