by Brian Cotton
Chapter .21
On the way out of the grocery store, Paxton told Kaspar all about how the USR did their best to starve out the poor. With their high taxes, low wages, and high unemployment rate, a lot of people were forced to take to the streets without a place to call home. The two picked up several items from the grocery, not much, but enough for at least some of the homeless to get by on. Upon approach at an old park, Paxton talked about how beautiful the place used to be, how it was once a haven for parents to take their children to. Now, it became a slum, a place for the homeless to congregate and fight for everything they could get.
“These people,” Paxton explained, “have nothing. You think that rinky apartment you lived in was bad? You ain’t seen anything, yet. You ever make it out to the park?”
“No, I guess I never really had a reason to.” Kaspar replied.
“Too busy preparing for your fights?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, prepare to have your eyes opened.”
Paxton pulled the van over and parked it to the side of the front entrance. Once out of the van, he ordered Kaspar to take off the jacket. When the kid pointed towards the sky, Paxton re-enforced his command. They did not want to be seen wearing USR attire. Not here. With reluctance, Kaspar threw the jacket into the van and felt the rain dribble at the top of his forehead. Paxton pulled out a hooded sweatshirt from the back.
“Where’s mine?” Kaspar asked.
“Should’ve been more prepared.” Paxton replied. He pulled the hood over his head and took the lead.
“Son of a bitch.”
The two men each carried a brown paper bag full of groceries in each hand. Paxton took the lead down into the park. Kaspar followed behind and awaited the eye popping, jaw dropping sight that his new boss promised. The once green grass of the park now had become overrun with dead weeds and thick mud from the rain. The USR failed to maintain this once rich property because their eyes, and money, were on other things. At least, that was how Paxton put it.
Once at the top of the hill, the promise that was made came true. Kaspar’s jaw dropped wide open at the sight. He mouthed, “holy shit”. There were poles of rotting, splintered wood which held up cloths of different colors. It was like a concentration camp; almost as if the USR gathered up all those who were unworthy and forced them to live in those make shift tents. Suddenly, Kaspar’s own life didn’t seem so horrible. He couldn’t fathom living in something like this, but apparently that’s what the people down below did. How could he have never heard of this place? Nobody, not Mother or Danny, not even the news which seemed to cover everything talked about it.
The two men treaded down the hill, careful not to let their asses fall into the mud, and approached the tiny huts. Kaspar saw nothing but skinny, starved men, women, and children huddled together. One little girl got up and ran towards them, a bright smile on her face. Paxton laid his bag on the wet ground and picked her up. He gave her a little kiss on the cheek. He reached into his bag and pulled out a loaf of bread. The girl’s eyes brightened up even more as she snatched the bread from Paxton’s hand and ran back into the hut.
“Thank you, John.” the girl’s mother called out from inside.
“It’s no problem, Margie.” Paxton replied.
“Who’s that with you?”
Kaspar looked down at the middle aged woman, her face covered in dirt. When she stepped out from the hut, the rain drops caused the dirt to run down her face like make up. He wanted to give her a smile, but he felt too sorry for her to do so.
“This is Ryan,” Paxton answered. “New guy.”
Margie put her smile on, “Well, Ryan, it is so nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too, ma’am.” Kaspar replied.
“Come on inside, you two, before you catch something.”
The two men ducked their heads under the cloth and took a seat on the once soft, now crusted blankets. Kaspar leaned his body back unto a wooden pole and felt the whole structure move. He moved back up and hunched his back over in an attempt to get comfortable. There was no way to get comfortable, not in this place, he wondered how its residents did it. Paxton sat Indian style beside him and started to pass around loaves of bread and vegetables to the hungry.
Kaspar did the same. He turned to his right and saw an old man lying down on his back. It looked to be a struggle for him with every breath. Kaspar pulled out a loaf of bread and handed it to him. His smile revealed that all of his front teeth rotted out a long time ago. He tore open the plastic covering and dove in. He shoved two pieces of bread into his mouth a time.
“Slow down, Charlie,” Paxton said. “That bread’s not going to run away.”
“Yes, John.” Charlie replied.
All of the homeless inside worked together to pass around the food. They each made sure that the person beside them had at least a little something before he or she dove in. The rain started to come down hard, with loud cracks of thunder from the distance. Kaspar felt a sorrow he never felt before while he watched the hungry devour the food. How could this have happened? How could fellow human beings allow it? Where was the USR? All that preaching about what great society this was? How could they allow this?
“So,” Margie said, “it’s Ryan, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kaspar replied.
“How’d you get mixed up with this fellow?”
“He offered me a job…an…opportunity that I couldn’t refuse.”
“What was that?” Margie asked with great interest.
“A chance to…clean this city up.”
“Well, he’s doing a great job of that, aren’t you, John?”
“Yes, we’re trying, at least.” Paxton replied.
Kaspar listened as all the people in that long hut ate, talked, and laughed with each other. He never in his life heard so much joy and, given the circumstances they were in, he could not understand it. The rain continued its downpour from above and he wondered if this cheap hut would hold up. All it would take to bring this thing down was one big gust of wind.
“How’s the fighting going?” Margie asked.
“We’re doing our best, but we lost one.” Paxton replied.
“Who?”
“Zach.”
Margie’s eyes began to tear up. Paxton pulled her in close and wrapped his strong arms around her. Her body vibrated from the crying, Paxton continued to rub at the back of her arm. He whispered something into her ear. Kaspar got a good look into his boss’s eyes. They that told him that it was women like Margie that they were fighting for. Margie, she reminded Kaspar so much of Mother. A clap of thunder high above caught everyone’s attention and the hut went quiet for a moment. A gust of wind blew past. The structure began to teeter from side to side.
“He was such a sweet kid,” Margie said as she back away from Paxton. “Such a sweet kid. Was it quick?”
“Yes, it was.” Paxton replied.
“And, this youngster here is taking over for him.”
“Yeah, he is. He can’t shoot for anything, but…” Paxton replied with a laugh.
Margie started to laugh as well. Kaspar looked over at Paxton who shrugged his shoulders and the new guy allowed a laugh, too. The first good laugh he had since he could remember. A strong gust of wind struck and one of the cloths flew into the air. The people in that section of the hut moved with earnest to the section beside them, which now became cramped. The people didn’t seem to mind, though. They all pulled each other close to ensure that nobody got wet from the rain.
“You got a hammer and nails?” Paxton asked.
“Sure do,” Margie said. She reached behind her and grabbed a rusted tool box.
Paxton retrieved the hammer and a few nails. He motioned for Kaspar to join him outside. Kaspar ducked his head under the cloth and followed the leader to the now drenched blanket. The heavy rain water pounded on top of his head. The frigid drops of water ma
de him shiver. They reached the red cloth and carried it back over to the hut. Kaspar held the cloth in place at each of the four poles while Paxton hammered the cloth back in place. Once completed the two men entered the hut once more.
“That blanket’ll take a while to dry,” Paxton said. “But, it should hold.”
“God bless you,” Margie said. “Bless both of you. Do you believe in God, Ryan?”
“I’m not sure there is a god. If he is around, I don’t see any of his work.”
“He’s working. He’s always working. It’s just not too obvious sometimes.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kaspar started to sneeze and even with his best attempt to hold it back the burning inside of his nostrils made that impossible. He let out a loud sneeze then rubbed at his red nose. Margie pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to him. He took it from her and rubbed at his nose before he sneezed again.
“I guess that’s our cue to get out of here.” Paxton said.
“You men be careful out there.” Margie said.
“Sure thing, and, Margie.”
“Yes.”
“Keep your head up. We are making headway on them. Peace will come soon and you won’t have to live like this anymore.”
“I believe you. Thank you again for the food.”
“Don’t mention it. Ryan.”
Paxton moved out of the hut and jogged towards the hill. Before Kaspar could get out, he felt a soft hand grab at his arm. He looked behind him at Margie, and she just smiled back at him.
“You’re hurting,” Margie said. “I can see that in your eyes.”
“I’m…fine.” Kaspar replied.
“Just don’t forget to find the joy in your life, even while you’re out there fighting…doing what you have to do.”
“I won’t.”
“And…remember us.”
Kaspar got out and took one last look inside the hut, at all the people inside. The vision of the little girl smiling and eating bread haunted him. He could not take it anymore, so he looked away and jogged towards the hill. Paxton already reached the top. He stood there awaiting Kaspar to hurry his ass up. Upon the initial climb, Kaspar slipped and got Zach’s jeans muddy. He picked himself back up and reached the top. On the way down, he added caution to his steps.
“How come I never knew about this place?” Kaspar demanded.
“Nobody cares,” Paxton replied. “Not the USR, not the media, nobody. Like you said, you never saw a reason to come down here.”
“Are there more places like this?”
“Yes, but we can’t help them all. We couldn’t possibly help them all. Somebody else is going to have to chip in and help out.”
“What about the other resistance groups?”
“They help some, I presume, but there are too many camps like this one.”
Once inside the van, Kaspar walked into the back in search of a towel. He found a stack of them underneath one of the benches and started to work on his wet hair. He sneezed again as the van’s engine roared to life. Only one thought breached Kaspar’s mind while the van moved forward.
Remember us.
