City 55

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by William Pinecroft


  It wasn’t the fact that most people clearly disagreed with what was happening outside or necessarily sought what was inside. It was more a matter of convention, and everyone’s perception of how things were and how they would stay. Most did not disagree forthright with the current conventions expressed and enforced by the World Government. Rather, they just felt something was slightly off but were content with the fact that the order of things was so because that’s how it had to be.

  Then there were others, a distinct group. These were convinced something was wrong but needed a catalyst to push them toward a change, a revolution. A revolution of mind and spirit. A revolution against uniformity and convention.

  CHAPTER 5

  WHERE’S THE BEER BLACKER THAN INK?

  “All right guys—” began Charlie.

  “Hold on bro. Drinks?” Dan interrupted.

  It was Charlie’s round, so he made his way up to the bar, the bar that had survived the Business Adequacy Agency thus far. The bartender stood at the chalkboard that adorned the wall behind him. He was erasing one beer that had been tapped and writing up another.

  “I’ll have three of those, at the top,” ordered Charlie. Charlie sat waiting, scanning the remaining selection. They had a good but dwindling range of choices. When the bar had first opened, the chalkboard displayed a laundry list of beers, but now it seemed to only rotate six or seven at a time. They were a bit more expensive too.

  It had been a few days since his whiteboard explanation or rant, with Dan and Jerry. His convictions were still at the forefront of his mind, but it was hard to grasp what he really intended to do. He scanned down the bar. There she was… Again. Oh man, this has to stop happening. He was staring. Shit. Stop it. Charlie wrestled with himself as he tried to pull his gaze from her, sitting a mere two seats over. He peaked in her direction once more. She was looking at him. She was looking straight into his eyes. Her beautiful, gorgeous, green, wet—why are they wet—eyes? Looking at him. They were bloodshot. Without hesitation, he found himself handing her a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and ordered a beer for her from the bartender.

  He didn’t say anything, which was good because more than likely, he’d come off like a stammering idiot, giving her one more thing to deal with right now. Instead, he smiled, paid for the beers, and handed her one. With an uncharacteristic bout of courage that sprouted from within, Charlie held his glass up in anticipation of a friendly acknowledgement. He mustered within him everything he had to hold the glass steady.

  She lifted her glass and between a few sniffs, gave Charlie a hearty toast. She locked eyes with him over the top of her glass as they each sipped from their pints. It was glorious. Charlie stared back, not knowing what to say.

  “Would you like to join us?” invited Dan, who had been watching the scenario unfold.

  “Ummm.” She smiled. “Okay, if that’s all right with you?” she asked Charlie.

  Charlie nodded, remaining speechless, leading her over to the table where Jerry was waiting. Charlie was not going to be able to continue the rest of this conversation. It was a miracle he hadn’t spilled a beer on her before falling flat on his face at the foot of her stool.

  “You remember Jerry?” Dan said as they sat down.

  “Yes,” answered this beautiful girl. With an awkward pause, she continued, “How are you?”

  “Hey girl, how you—” started Jerry.

  Dan cut him off. “My name is Dan. And this is Charlie, my best bud.”

  She turned, looking at Charlie. “Hi, my name is Pam.”

  Five rounds of beer eased the conventional social awkwardness quite a bit. Stories of old flowed, met with jabs at the expense of whoever happened to be the storyteller. That single table remained an oasis within one of the few quality bars that had stayed clear of modern society’s clutches. Pam kept the guys entertained with stories of her day, divulging the reason for her tears. Her day had been lost up to the point these knights in shining armor rescued her. She gestured at both Charlie and Dan during this flattery, making it obvious Jerry would still need to vie for that similar honor.

  Her brother and sister-in-law had been denied approval for a baby due to Regulation 28. After two and a half years of waiting, checking and rechecking, their tracking number that returned the same, In Progress response had finally been moved to, Denied. Her brother had immediately reapplied, his hopes dashed once again. The Procreation Allocation Quantum was not approving any applications for offspring, as they termed it, at this time. No one was permitted to have kids for the foreseeable future. The response from the committee had stated that with the current technological focus, resources must be redirected to research and development, making it unethical to procreate at the present time.

  “Unethical? That’s what they said. I want a little niece or nephew to play with. My brother is devastated. They have been waiting patiently for years, and all they want is to have a baby. Nothing else matters to them. I don’t know what’s going to happen with them. I don’t know how to help.”

  All three of the guys tried to be as supportive as they knew how. Of course, two of them were single and would have had a heart attack if they had gotten some girl pregnant. The other was Jerry, and Jerry didn’t exactly embody the word empathy. Luckily, their feeble attempt at cheering her up, made her laugh.

  They ended up relaxing in Charlie’s apartment. Dan brought over some Mary Jane, as he liked to call it. Charlie was convinced Dan felt one with the rockers of the 20th century when he used those words.

  “We are about to embark into an era unmatched in history. We are going to travel to the late 1960’s, a time that yielded the rock songs of a generation that inspired the rebellious attitude that had the guts to challenge a government,” said Dan, as he jumped on one of the stools by the kitchen.

  Charlie was making grilled cheese sandwiches in the only way he knew how, gourmet. Jerry was drunk on his ass, sitting by the sofa, apparently trying to figure out what part of the world would stop spinning. Pam stood on another stool, joining Dan in his rebellious yell, smiling at Charlie every now and then.

  Man, what a night.

  “Charlie, tell Pam about your revolution,” said Dan.

  Charlie looked at him, slow to comprehend what he meant. Once it finally hit him, he hesitated while trying to find the correct words. “Dan, this may not be the best time, man,” responded Charlie. “Let’s sit and chill.”

  “Uh uh. You have a revolution? Spill,” said Pam. She turned and refused to look away from Charlie.

  Charlie wondered how he was going to get out of this. She clearly wasn’t an idiot. Besides, revolutions seemed to maintain a romantic aura about them in the stories he had read. He could wow her with his daring. A first person story rather than an age-old tale from a dusty book that probably couldn’t be found in the conglomerate book stores that dominated the market.

  Charlie took a big puff. Between a wheeze and a cough, he responded, “We want to destroy The Proxy.”

  Pam sat there looking at him. Her hand that had reached for the joint remained suspended in midair. She gazed at Charlie.

  He couldn’t tell if she was studying his face or trying to comprehend what she had just heard. To be fair, he was challenging the foundation of their world.

  Dan tried to close her fingers around the remaining weed, all the while instructing her to take a puff. “It might help,” Dan said.

  She finally consented to his instructions, the effects of the drugs unknown to Charlie and Dan.

  “Charlie, you can’t say that out loud,” exclaimed Pam.

  “Yeah man… You… What the fuck man?” Jerry added.

  Charlie muttered under his breath.

  “Are you sure you should be talking revolutions right now?” Jerry asked.

  “Well, it’s already out of the bag,” Charlie said.

  “I’m with you. I am. That stuff you showed us the other day with the jelly mold thing was unreal. I’ve never see anything like it. But,
I think you need to be careful talking about this,” Jerry said as he gestured to Pam. “This isn’t the type of thing you just blurt out. You need to watch who hears all this.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” Charlie said. “I think it’s a moot point now.”

  Jerry sat back in his chair. Charlie could tell Jerry was wary of bringing more people into their circle. Charlie looked over at Pam, who seemed to be struggling to construct her next sentence, as if the welfare of the group depended on it.

  She finally broke the silence. “Charlie, you can’t,” said Pam.

  Charlie reflected for a moment. He knew she was right in some respects. Everything in him told him that this was foolish. There was no way they could win. Then he looked at Dan. Dan gave him one slight head nod, telling him, you got it man. I got your back.

  “Why not?” said Charlie.

  “Because you can’t,” replied Pam.

  “Pam, we’ve been told what to do all our lives. There has always been a reason for why a certain law is or why a specific regulation exists. There have always been those who tell us how things should be. And because of that, those people have been in power. They have chipped away at all the liberties we once enjoyed. When is it going to stop? I don’t see an end in sight. They’re going to continue to make decisions with some other agenda that has nothing to do with us. You think it’s right your brother can’t have a baby? That’s the bedrock of a species, to live and well, to procreate. It is to continue to contribute to the gene pool and the proliferation of the species, of us. We can’t even do that now. And if you think it’s for a good reason, why don’t they tell us what it is? It’s the same bullshit quote each time. We never know the real why. I’m sick of it. I was okay when I was under the illusion it was all for some greater good. But it’s not. It’s not for us. It never will be.”

  “Nobody can give you freedom. Nobody can give you equality or justice or anything. If you’re a man, you take it,” Jerry added.

  “Yeah man,” responded Dan. “Who said that?”

  “Malcolm X mother fucker,” answered Jerry.

  “Preach it brother. Now pass it,” yelled Charlie to Dan. Pam and Dan both looked at him as Dan passed the doobie over to Charlie. Charlie smiled, took a deep puff, and flipped the grilled cheese in front of him. With a big cough, he served Pam and Dan each a half of the sandwich. They ate the gooey mess without taking a breath, which was the best compliment possible for Charlie. He then did what any chef would do. He started making more. The impromptu crew sang and protested the night away, devouring weed and gourmet grilled cheese, a perfect combo for a perfect night.

  The following morning, Dan and Charlie met at Jerry’s home as previously discussed, while in varying levels of intoxication.

  “Yes, hello?” answered Jerry’s wife following a knock at Jerry’s front door.

  “We’re here to pick up Jerry, ma’am,” answered Dan.

  “Dan, why are you so formal with me?”

  Dan shrugged and smiled.

  “Jerry. Dan and Charlie are here at the front door looking for you.”

  “What did you say? I don’t want to buy anything. Tell whoever it is to get the fuck out of here,” answered Jerry.

  “I’m sorry guys, he’s not normally so rude!”

  Charlie intervened, made a gesture with his index finger, and mouthed the words “one second.” He eased his head inside the doorway. “Jerry buddy, it’s us, Charlie and Dan.”

  “Oh, hey guys,” said Jerry as he came around the corner. “What’s going on?”

  “You remember?” led on Dan. “We were all going down to the—”

  “Office to go over the reports you said you were behind on,” intervened Charlie.

  “You have to go in again?” asked Jerry’s wife.

  “Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry honey. These guys volunteered last night to help me. I was kinda hoping they’d forget so I wouldn’t have to deal with those reports, but I guess it’s better that I do,” answered Jerry.

  “Okay, whatever,” responded his wife.

  “Okay guys, meet you out front?” said Jerry.

  Dan and Charlie nodded, smiled at Jerry’s wife, and backed out of the doorway. They walked around the house to the driveway and waited for Jerry.

  “Nice save.” Dan laughed.

  The garage door came up and inside sat a rare commodity. Jerry had preserved a 1972 VW campervan bus. He loved that beast. She was painted bright yellow and had a white camper top, which had seen better days. Nowadays, even though these campers were so rare, no one could sell them for much money. People didn’t allot worth to sentimental remnants of the past or unique relics of previous generations. In fact, the VW bus was pretty inefficient, and the name of the game was efficiency. Jerry might have been able to bring in some money for scrap metal, but that would be the extent.

  “Sacrilege,” Jerry had said when Dan and Charlie teased him about it a while back.

  Dan jumped up front, while Jerry drove. Charlie sat on the back bench, behind a full-size table with a kitchen sink and small refrigerator, fixed behind Dan’s seat. This van could house a small family in style if needed. Jerry pulled out of the driveway, turning the driver’s wheel hand over hand, as the bus was not equipped with power steering. While some may have found this a pain, Charlie knew Jerry loved having full control over his baby. The guys cruised through the streets of the San Franciscan suburbs. Not much life. It was late morning, so everyone was at work. If you weren’t at work, you were off the streets or else locked up for some reason or another.

  They continued west until hitting some outcroppings above the Pacific Ocean. Dan had chosen a specific spot for their endeavors today. He had convinced them all they were now soldiers who needed to prepare for war. One can only imagine the reactions from the other two. Even so, they agreed and were now traveling to harness the energy of Mother Nature, the only force that could rival the one and only Proxy.

  “Mavericks?” Charlie whispered as they crested the ridgeline, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. “Dan, the only things here at Mavericks are fifty foot waves and great white sharks.” If Dan thought Charlie was jumping into that, he must still be feeling the effects of those mushrooms.

  “What the fuck are we doing at Mavericks?” asked Jerry.

  “Don’t worry my little hombres. We’re here to experience the power. We need to get in shape first, and this will be our inspiration,” Dan said.

  Ten minutes later, Charlie and Jerry were relaxing in lawn chairs pulled out next to the campervan. The sun warmed Charlie’s face, as he peered up into the sky. He leaned back, placing his hands behind his head.

  “I could fall asleep right here,” Charlie muttered to Jerry as he closed his eyes.

  Jerry smiled and nodded.

  “Guys. Our bodies need to be trained. We’re warriors now,” Dan said as he walked up.

  Charlie opened one eye, peering at Dan who was now standing over him. “I don’t think wind sprints are going to do it,” said Charlie. “Don’t get me wrong. I dig the enthusiasm. To win this though, we need to outwit our enemy.”

  “What’s next then? You inspired all this. You know, take on the world and all,” said Dan. “How are we going to be able to do that?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that.” Charlie forced himself up from his short-lived slumber. “I have a little reading material for you,” Charlie said as he handed a set of printouts to both of them.

  They collected Charlie’s offering and placed everything on the table before them.

  “Read,” commanded Charlie.

  “Now?” they both replied.

  “These are the reports on how The Proxy works. This chic, Dr. Helena Buscher, was the brainchild of The Proxy.”

  “Oh yeah, the hot chic,” Dan said.

  “Uh, yeah. It says she used a bunch of her father’s work on the subconscious to create The Proxy. It also goes into detail on how The Proxy works with all the supposed benefits. There has to be something usef
ul in here,” said Charlie. “I want us to find it.”

  The guys leaned back and started to read through the pamphlets Charlie had handed them. Charlie knew neither was in the mood to do so, but he didn’t care. He watched as they skimmed the pages. He doubted they were capable of digesting anything more than the main points at that rate. The documents were also ten years old. The reports were part of the campaign to get approval for The Proxy when it was first introduced to the world. Most of the references centered on the testing data Dr. Buscher had compiled and the potential benefits the world would reap should it incorporate this new system. It was impossible to tell whether or not the protocols described were current or outdated now. The Proxy could be operating under different procedures that weren’t documented in the reports. Charlie was new to challenging governments, so anything and everything he found presented an opportunity. They all could relax on the beach some other time.

  “This is good,” said Jerry. “But the data here is old. We need current stuff. We need information on how The Proxy is working now.”

  “Yes, true,” agreed Charlie. “But we don’t have it, and I don’t know where to get it?” Charlie shuffled through the papers, searching for a set buried beneath the stack. “Here,” he said as he laid out two copies for Dan and Jerry.

  Dan and Jerry scanned through what Charlie had produced.

  “Why didn’t you give this to us in the first place?” Dan asked.

  “Well, I did.” Charlie paused. “I did want you to go through the information for yourselves as well.”

  “Did you put this together?” Jerry asked.

  “Yeah,” Charlie said.

  “This is good. This summarizes everything. It must have taken a while. At least we can see how everything is related a bit more clearly now.”

  “I was trying to capture the gist of how The Proxy works.”

  “I can see that. Nice,” Dan said as he and Jerry scanned over the summaries that Charlie had produced. All the raw information that Charlie had was also replicated in these pages, presenting a rudimentary relationship between what Charlie and Dan had seen and how The Proxy supposedly worked.

 

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