“The truth,” he said simply and began.
SIGHTINGS
1
“My fellow Americans … it feels like that phrase has lost the significance it once held. September 11, 2001, we lost more than lives. We lost identity. America was shaken to the brink. The war that followed will forever fuel philosophers and smarter men than myself into heated debates over what we could have done differently. Tonight – over a decade later – it’s still the same. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do? Heh. You all turned on your sets tonight to hear my words of encouragement, or to hear me promise we will seek vindication and mete out justice on these bastards, or we will throw every single man, woman, and child at them until everything is all right again.
“Well, I’m here to tell you, you can turn your TV’s off RIGHT NOW! I’ve had it with this country and the world’s expectations of me and my office’s response to this sort of tragedy. I am a human being. No more. No less. I cannot … I can’t even begin to tell you what we, as a country, should do. Remember, you the people, elected me based mainly on my anti-war stance. You liked my tax cuts, my spending incentives, and my equal treatment of the working class and the wealthy alike. Times were good for a while there. Jobs were secure. The hungry were fed. The nations of the world were finally beginning to take us seriously again.
“Now, I will give you this: a man – or woman – cannot become the President of these United States of America, especially in this day and age, without the knowledge of the possibility of going to war. I know I’ll catch hell for this, but this country is a powder keg. We are, and have been for some time, at our wit’s end; our nation is portrayed as weak. We get beat up and bullied. Then, we make empty threats. Then, boom! We get it again. Well, not this time. I don’t know what it’s going to take to get the message across to the rest of the world, but I’m damned sure not going to let it happen again.
“The loss of any American life to a terrorist act is the loss of America, Herself. Our Lady Liberty is in pieces. I cannot help but see that as very, very thinly veiled symbolism. Can you? After today, nothing … nothing at all will be the same for the US. However, I will promise you this: nothing will be the same for the rest of the world, either. From this day forward, if you are not backing us, then you are backing them. I don’t want to be misunderstood here, so let me be blunt: that goes for every man and every nation. It has become a black and white world, and I for one, will not take comfort in finding a single spot of gray. Liberty is gone. Patience has been cancelled. I will not be bullied – not in my own house.
“Godspeed … MY FELLOW AMERICANS.”
2
President Perry was hurt, and he was pissed. That speech o’ his was played to death over the next couple of days. It was on every channel of every set I have in the living room. There were montages thrown together showing various footage of the statue – what was left of her. Then, there were the awful and endless recaps – and recaps of recaps. No one really blamed the talking heads much, though. They were drawing paychecks to report the news, and what else would they be covering on a day like that, eh? The attack was it. They drummed on and on, speculating who was responsible and why. They brought in their best experts, and then, the next hour, they would miraculously bring out a new expert that was just a wee bit more expert than their last expert, you know?
By the end of that first night, I had heard enough of the coverage. Who the bloody hell would want to sit through all of that again and again and again? T’would be hell or worse. So, I got out of there – and quickly, let me tell you. From almost the beginning, the roads were choked with people wanting to help. It was like a mass exodus, but going the other direction.
I would ride with one group until we couldn’t go any further due to traffic jams and such. Then, I’d walk a ways up the road until I’d come to the next group of folks and an open patch of blacktop. We’d all ride and chat it up for a bit before I’d have to do it all over again.
I didn’t make it to ground zero that night. The government had it blocked off. No one but no one was getting past the teams of Van Parson’s security force and the National Guardsmen that had been called in. It was really surreal to be that close to Liberty Island and not be able to see her light. I know it’s the silliest thing, but it managed to get this guy all kinds of worked up, so it did.
I wound up claiming a rather small patch of earth in a rather large tent that had been erected during all of the chaos that day. There wasn’t any room for cots. Any bedding there might have been had already been claimed by those with small children. And God truly blessed the children, for they were the only ones able to get any sleep that night. Ah, to be that young, again, that carefree.
After lying with my eyes closed for some time, I decided to get up and mill about a bit. Several others were doing the same, so I decided to go see what I could find out. I found a couple sitting on a bench on a nearby sidewalk. One appeared to be a doctor or nurse of some sort. “Hello, folks. Name’s Caduceus. Mind if I join you?”
“Oh, sure, not at all! I’m Josh,” replied the man in the aqua scrub set. “This lovely lady is Gwen. We’ve just arrived from out west. Man, wow, can you believe all this? I mean, just wow.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s a pure tragedy. Twice in the same state like that, too. I don’t know why we couldn’t have been prepared, you know? What was up with security,” added Gwen. She was very beautiful, and had the practiced cadence of a politician or an anchorwoman.
“Asleep, no doubt,” replied Josh, snarkily.
“Now,” I protested, “We don’t know all the details of what happened. We might never. From what the press is letting out, it all happened so fast, not even our own governmental agencies knew it was going down.” Suddenly, I felt the need to defend those not present to do so on their own behalf.
“Well, whatever. It wasn’t my intention to offend. I mean we all want the same thing.”
“You’re right. No, you’re absolutely right. There are no hard feelings at all. It’s just been a long night’s travel on very little rest. I know these next days and weeks will be rough going, as well. The most important thing is we’ve all come together to help those in need. With dedication and a little … a little hope, we can …” As I spoke, I became aware of the couple’s amused glances at each other. “What?” I cut myself off, feeling my face flush. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing. It’s just …” The woman tried.
Josh finished for her: “You’re just so serious, dude. I mean, come off it, already. You don’t have to be on for us, ok?”
“On?” I was confused.
“Well, yeah, I figured you could use some rest; it’s tiring if you have to be that way all day. I know.”
“What way would that be, then?” I insisted.
“Really? When I said we were all here for the same thing, I meant to bask in the prestige and recognition that came with being a first-responder to a national crisis, man.”
“For real. I don’t know why you’re wasting a speech like that on us,” offered Gwen.
“We’re all playing the same game. Why don’t you save it for the papers tomorrow.”
One moment, the offending parties were perched on the bus bench they had commandeered. The next, they were crumpled on the ground, noisily pleading for said bench to not be visited upon them.
Oh, yeah, did I mention at this point I had it arched high above my head?
3
Moving full force with intent and my training, I would have surely killed them both. It really isn’t my goal to brag here. I mention this strictly for informational purposes. I’m certain it was my shock at their outrageous and egregious behavior that caused my reaction. After a fierce battle between the devil and angel on either of my shoulders, I was able to toss the concrete bench aside and keep from hurting them. They would have to go unpunished. For that night, at any rate.
4
Fuming, I returned to my corner to find an Asian man and his daug
hter had already claimed my spot. They were gathered in close to one another, watching the coverage on a tablet. The reporters had learned a little more of what happened. I was leery to join anyone after my last encounter. About that time, the girl caught me looking and motioned for me to come sit with them. We attempted introductions, but beyond names, we could understand nothing. Amazing how cultural boundaries can disappear when it comes to uniting to face such a tragedy. I knelt down beside Meow Fang (I’m relatively sure that wasn’t what she said, but it was close) as she turned up the volume, and we listened:
“While France’s President denies the claim, many in Washington question his sincerity. We go now, to capital hill, where Jeanine Kaufman is talking live with General Douglas at the pentagon. Jeanine?”
“Thanks, Lou. General: Your views on the breaking news and France’s official denouncing of any involvement in today’s attack?”
“Its no secret the French people have been against the US and her decisions for a while. With outlandish claims about the US being on a power trip, wanting to police the world and limit freedoms of other sovereign nations, it’s just hard for this soldier to take President Adelard at his word. My command stands by whatever decisions President Perry makes, but I have given the order for my troops to be prepared to deploy immediately, should he choose that course.”
France? Involved in the attack? Surely not. I knew I could get no answers from either Meow Fang or her father. Everyone else was occupied or trying to rest. I would have to get my answers the next morning. It was only a few hours away at this point, anyway.
5
Morning came way too early. I got ready for the day’s work – as ready as one can get for sifting through debris for the dead and missing. I was starving, but I figured there wouldn’t be much in the way of breakfast. I had brought a few light snacks to get me by, but that was it. How was I to know there would be a veritable all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet right outside our tents? There were eggs fixed a number of different ways, bacon, sausage, and some kosher foods as well. There were oatmeal and cereals of all different flavors, and a small island of fruit to cap it off. It was an amazing meal, and it had no doubt had a lot of hard work put into the preparation. I’m a bit of a chef, as I might have tol’ you, and this was even impressive to me.
After nearly everyone had his or her first go-round at the buffet, there came a voice amplified over a PA system. The owner of said voice was on a makeshift stage to the right of the breakfast tables. “Good people of New York, New Jersey, and volunteers from all over: my name is Don Bishop. I want you to know, we at Van Parson, Inc. will continue providing both these kinds of meals and the guards from our corporate service, which you have seen since yesterday’s cowardly attack.
“VPI is as dedicated as you are to getting this mess cleaned up and sorted through, to getting any survivors to safety, and to return the bodies of those who have perished here to their loved ones to be properly taken care of.
“Thank you for your time and sacrifice. Are there any questions or comments at this time?”
“Yeah, I’ve got one,” came a voice I had heard before. As he made his way to the front of the crowd, I felt my anger return. “My name’s Josh, Jersey born and raised.” He was briefly interrupted with scattered cheers before continuing. “My question is, if this tragedy is so important to VPI, why are you here speaking to us instead of –.”
“Instead of Richard Van Parson, himself,” offered a new voice. From the shadows stepped a tall, statuesque figure. He seemed to be unaffected by the morning’s already oppressive heat, despite the undoubtedly costly business suit and tie he wore. A murmur consumed the crowd as they recognized the newcomer. Richard Van Parson, founder and CEO of Van Parson, Inc., flashed a huge grin that threatened to envelope his entire face. As he continued, however, the disarming smile was replaced by a look of somber reverence. “Sorry for the late entrance, but I assure you I would not not show up to offer my support and contribute to the search and rescue efforts, personally. As Mr. Bishop was saying, this is a very dire time for our nation; and it is very important we all do what we can to give aid in any form or fashion during this sad, sad event.
“Please, bow your heads with me in silent prayer.” He placed his chin on his chest, blonde hair never moving out of place. After a good minute, or so, he looked up and said, “Thank you all for allowing me to address you today. Please, eat up and then join me on Liberty Island where she might not stand anymore, but she still stands for freedom. God bless.”
6
Having had my share of the generous meal, and since I already had my gear together, I headed to meet the first group as they prepared to board the ferry to ground zero. It had been years since I had been to see the Statue of Liberty, but I could still remember her beauty and elegance. For many, she had been the first face of America, the one every newcomer to this great land would see as their boats came into port. I was not looking forward to what I might find over there.
I didn’t have too long to wait, as the first of the day’s ferries pulled up to the loading zone. I picked up my bags and fell in line with the rest. There was a polite tap from behind. When I turned, there stood Meow Fang, sans father. We exchanged smiles, and I offered her a small bow as a hello. I was just about to try to ask her about her father when he came sprinting up the path, toting a large Igloo cooler. “Planning on doing some tailgating, are we?” I said with a laugh. Julinn returned the laugh, but not in response to my joke. While I’m certainly a humorous fellow, I have no delusions my jokes are funny enough to bridge the language barrier. No, it was merely good for him to have a friend to share a simple moment of joy, in light of the mission ahead. I could certainly sympathize.
I patted him on the shoulder and turned to lead them to the boat. It was a nice boat, one of VPI’s best. With the clear day, the delicious breakfast, the celebrity speaker, and the nice boat ride to the island, a gent could easily believe he was on vacation and not at the heart of one of the most poetic and horrid attacks on US soil. The grim truth of the matter was it would be a trying day for us all, and not just physically. We would, undoubtedly, be left completely drained emotionally at the end of the day, too.
The trip was short, though we had to wait for ages after we docked. The authorities had to secure the area and thoroughly search each of us as we disembarked. They were meticulous in their exams; it was the days after 9/11 all over. Better safe than sorry, I’d imagine.
When I stepped off the ferry, I was stopped cold by both what I saw and what I did not. Liberty Island is just around twelve acres or so – a small piece of land by no means. The entire shoreline was covered with troops from the National Guard, the coast guard, the national park services, and guards from both Statue Security and VPI. There were several plainclothes types, as well, that, I’m sure, represented various nonexistent sections of the United States government.
Up ahead, I noticed a small group of men, all wearing suits and speaking French. They were apparently getting their morning’s orders from a brick of a man in a slightly darker suit coat. As we passed, I tried to eavesdrop as best I could. I only remembered a few words and phrases from when I had traveled through France when I was about your age. From what I did recall, I determined they were afraid to be there, with France’s rumored involvement. President Adelard had apparently tasked them to run an investigation of their own, to try to alleviate as much suspicion as they could and to foster goodwill between the American people and France. I couldn’t blame them for being afraid.
I wished I could stick around to find out more, but that would draw me unwanted attention. I had hardly come to play amateur sleuth, after all. Besides, we had reached our destination at the outermost edge of the debris field.
7
There are certain unchangeable laws out there. Unchangeable for most folks. One such law states, and I’m paraphrasin’ here: you cannot destroy matter; you can only change its energy form. (Now, I’m sure that’s not worded correctly,
but if you try to correct me, I’m also sure you’ll be out on your own.) The Statue of Liberty was composed of 60,000 pounds of copper, 250,000 pounds of steel, plus another 140,000 pounds of miscellaneous other materials on top of that. All 450,000 pounds were still present and accounted for, however, most was now scattered across the bulk of the island and its surrounding waters.
On the ride over, someone had said they had found pieces of her left hand and the tablet it once held right off of the Jersey coastline. Years ago, I remember, there had been a movie, I can’t recall the name just now, but it dealt with a monster coming up out of the ocean and attacking New York. I never got around to seeing the movie, but I remember on the previews, seeing the head of Lady Liberty come flying into the heart of the city. That image always stuck with me, and several times throughout the day, it came back to me with stark clarity. Being there like that, it was a very surreal experience, let me tell you.
If I had been a visitor to the island a day or two priors, what I would have seen would have been a totally different and breathtaking sight. What I saw that day, I could barely stomach. Only a couple of the points of her star-shaped foundation remained intact. The others had been savagely blown to the four winds. The rectangular centerpiece remained, miraculously, untouched for the most part. The Lady herself, however, was a whole other matter.
The glorious torch that had been a beacon to the world and one of the world’s most recognizable symbols was nowhere to be seen. Nor was the arm that had held both the original torch and its replacement through a bicentennial and beyond. It had been neatly severed at the shoulder-line. Her head balanced precariously upon her unmolested neck and shoulders. Each of the spikes of her crown had been damaged or blown completely off with the exception of the centermost spike. Whatever had caused the damage to the spikes had also made a mess of the windows that had served as the jewels of her crown. Her entire left side and the left portion of her torso was gone, allowing the occasional glimpse at the circular staircase inside. Like the base on which they had stood, her legs seemed to have escaped the attack.
Forging Truth (The Truth Saga) Page 2
