Solutions: The Dilemma for Men, James Gerard [most motivational books .txt] 📗

an accident and is just not thinking right.”

 

The man appeared to be irate at Emily’s interruption.

 

Louis looked up from the crushing weight of the men to see the man staring at him.

 

“Back off,” he barked.  He rose and stood over Louis, apparently unsure of the decision he was to render.  “This is your lucky day friend.  I advise you to get up and walk out before I change my mind and have you sent to a repatriation camp.”

 

“But….”

 

Emily spoke out, “Thank you for your understanding Councilman Torres.  Your kindness is only matched by your greatness.”

 

“Yes it is.  Never ever forget that!”

 

As Louis felt compelled to further challenge the man, Emily knelt down and gave a look that he dared not challenge.  She helped Louis to his feet and escorted him to the entryway without a word being uttered.  As he reluctantly walked down the steps he considered Emily’s actions as that of trying to be helpful, another rescue from something he believed no rescue was necessary.  But he just kept walking down to the street below step by step, figured that Emily could be endangered by his urge to confront the man further.  He figured that later would be the better time to confront Emily with what had occurred.

 

After a brief self-examination for any new scrapes and bruises, Louis could not locate any soreness from the result of the scuffle.  The fine set of clothes were dirty in a few spots, the black leather shoes a bit scuffed up here and there, but they were only minor setbacks to what now was the stated goal.

 

Emerging onto the promenade he loudly announced his presence with shouts of “good morning my brothers and sisters.”  He observed the same funny looks and heard the same snickers coming from those that passed on by.

 

“Listen everyone, my name is Louis and I’m not from here.  I’m from a village where we are free to talk about and glorify our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”

 

Nearby shouts of “nutcase” and “idiot” resonated in the air, but Louis had grown use to the cries from his fellow workers back in the Village.  With each approaching man, woman, and child came the opportunity to glorify his Lord God, to speak of the only One that could fulfill the promises made to the children He loved.

 

Up ahead on the stree,t flashing lights caught his attention.  A siren began to wail.

 

Louis recognized one of the officers as he bolted from the passenger seat.  Pulling out the stick, clutching it firmly, the officer stormed up to Louis with what appeared to be a great amount of anger.

 

“I recognize you,” said the officer.

 

Louis flinched as the officer lifted the stick and swung it hard onto his shoulder.  The shock of the strike sent him tumbling to the ground.  He moaned in pain.  The officer and his partner, each one of their sticks posed high above ready for another strike, demanded Louis’ name and assigned sector.

 

Louis, stunned by the strike, hesitated in answering.

 

“Unless you want us to beat you senseless with the batons you better answer quickly.”

 

The officers raised the batons high as if to make known that they were not speaking of idle threats.

 

“Wait, wait,” Louis cried as he held out his arms.   “My name is Louis and I’m from one of the villages outside the city.”

 

“What village?”

 

“I don’t know the name of it but….”

 

The officers mimicked another strike with their baton, but instead fell onto Louis with knees and elbows and quickly cuffed hands and feet.  Without another word the officers each grabbed a leg and dragged him to the car.  One of the officers lifted him to his feet by a hand full of hair.  The other opened the back door and both pushed him in.

 

The car’s wheels spun out as the driver pressed heavily on the accelerator.  They took him to a building and pulled him out of the back seat.  As Louis lay on the ground, the officers delivered a blow to one leg with the batons.

 

Louis screamed, “No more.”

 

A door burst open.  Three men sprinted to the scene.

 

Two of the officers lifted Louis by the arms and dragged him to the door with shouts of “wait until we get through with you” and “we’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”

 

The men threw Louis onto the cold, bare floor of a brightly lit room and began to scream and shout, then threaten him with further bodily harm if he refused to submit to the commands of obedience.

 

Disobedient Servant

Louis’ eyes opened and were stung with lights just above making his head jerk to the side to escape the blinding glare.  He could feel abrasive straps digging into the skin and flesh.  The straps held the wrists and prevented the arms from swinging up.  Unable to shield the brightness with a free hand, pulses of pain in the brain.

 

With a headache coming on strong, he was still able to feel tingling in the arms.  Louis began to rapidly open and close the fingers and hands to bring about feeling out of the numbing sensation.  He wiggled his toes and felt the lack of feeling as well.  Ankles were also tightly bound by straps preventing the feet and legs from escaping the grip.  But no other pain was apparent to Louis.

 

Suddenly, the squeaking of rusty hinges and then the tapping of steel against a concrete floor was heard.  He tried to look at the source of the tapping sounds but the light was still blinding.  The tapping stopped.  The light’s beam was angled away.  A man’s face looked down at him.

 

“Louis is your name?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You are from one of the agricultural villages?”

 

“If you mean a village where we grow food?  Then yes.”

 

“How did you make your way to Los Angeles?”

 

“Hector let me ride in the train.”

 

“Who’s Hector?”

 

“The man who drives the train.”

 

“How long have you been here?”

 

“I think I left the Village about five or six days ago, but I can’t remember so well right now.”

 

Louis saw the man turn his head and heard someone issue oral commands.  The rusty hinges were heard again.  Obviously, whoever left the room was off to verify his name and duty location, as well as Hector’s.

 

“Do you know why you are here Louis?”

 

“I can’t think so good right now.  My head is hurting pretty bad.”

 

Louis heard footsteps come up from behind.  He felt a pinprick to his neck.  He laid there quietly as the pain quickly began to subside and a feeling of la-la-la came about.  After a few minutes a sense of euphoria replaced the throbbing pain.

 

“Let me tell you why you are here.  It seems you have been going around spreading untruths about rules and regulations.”

 

“Oh yeah,” Louis finally remembered.  “You mean me talking about our Lord God.  But brother, we talk about him all the time back in the Village.”

 

“I’m sure you do, but that is neither here nor there.  The most important part is that you seem to have a problem with…let’s say, stirring up trouble.  Do you understand?”

 

Just as Louis was about to reaffirm his belief, the door suddenly squeaked.  He heard a man state that his name and identity had been verified, and that his superiors had never had any problem with him in work or personal conduct.  When asked why the local council had not issued an alert to his absence, they claimed it was just a mix up due to the large numbers of men and women that were presently being shipped out to other villages.

 

The man continued.  “For your own good my friend, for everyone’s good, we’re going to have to give you a refresher course on just how to behave.  Does that sound good?”

 

Both men were heard leaving the room.  Louis found it hard to understand, but he just smiled in response to whatever drug they injected into his system.   As the state of euphoria sent pure waves of happiness over his mind, an overwhelming tide of relaxation flooded every inch of his body, the man stepped away from his side.

 

“Hello Louis,” a voice called out.

 

“That’s me.”

 

“I just want to ask you one question.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Who is your leader?”

 

“You mean our beloved God?”

 

“I see.  You’re going to feel another prick to your neck followed by a deep desire to sleep.  Don’t fight it.  Just go to sleep.  Do you understand?”

 

“I have to admit I’m a bit sleepy already.”

 

“Good then.”

 

*                         *                         *

 

When Louis awoke he immediately sat up in bed.  Throngs of pain coursed throughout his body and forced him to lie back down and moan.   But it did no good.  He was in agony.  Heavy snoring filled the dark room with sounds he was somewhat familiar with, but it was cold and damp, so unlike the sleeping quarters back in the Village.

 

“Welcome to hell,” a voice whispered in the dark.

 

Suddenly lights flooded the room.  Men and women jumped out of beds and raced to the door.  Louis lay there moaning from pain wracking every limb and joint in his body.  Two men emerged from beyond the open door clutching batons.  Louis saw the approach and stared at the pure rage in their faces.  Before he had the opportunity to pose a question, the men dragged him off the cot.  He plopped to the cold hard ground in agony.  The guards began to beat him.  The men screamed at him to get up and run out to the yard.  Unsympathetic with the hurt that he felt, the guards grabbed him by each leg and dragged him over the floor to an area where men and women stood at attention.  The others stood at attention.  They stared straight ahead.  Each one of them was seemingly unwilling to witness the violence that was occurring right in front of them.

 

One of the guards grabbed a hold of Louis’ hair and yanked him up to a standing position.  Unable to bear the pain from the full weight of his body, the knees buckled then the eyes began to roll back into the skull.  One of the guards whacked him in the shins and demanded he stand at attention.  Finally, Louis gathered up enough strength to ignore the pain and was able to abide by the commands.

 

“Scum,” a voice shouted, “you will do everything we tell you to do or will your stubbornness lead to more pain?”

 

Louis struggled with the emotions as pain dominated every thought.  He had no idea where he was or what was going on, but the foremost concern was to survive until the reality of the situation revealed itself.

 

Louis saw the men and women catch shovels and pickaxes thrown at them.  A shovel thrown at him was dropped.  A guard commanded that it be picked up while he administered a blow of a baton to the back.    

 

Louis quickly picked up the shovel and joined the mad dash to an open door.  He followed the men and women onto a truck running idly by as it waited for the human cargo.

 

“What’s happening?” Louis asked a man standing flush against him.

 

“You’re at a repatriation camp you idiot,” the man responded.  “If you want to avoid a beating just do what they tell you.”

 

The pain consumed Louis with an unrelenting throb of misery that he had never experienced before.  Thoughts of the love of his God were absent by being pushed aside by the agony.