Seeking a Sane Society: Nothing is the Same (The Seeking Series Book 2)

by Albert A. Correia

  “Yes?” said Peckham

  “This meeting is taking place at Two Harbors. Is it your plan to have any organization that is set up to enforce those rules headquartered here?”

  “No one has brought up that subject before,” Peckham replied. “But this is where we live, so, yes, I think we can assume that will be the case.”

  “Two Harbors is an unincorporated area,” Goldman stated. “It doesn’t have the facilities to be the headquarters for anything. On the other hand, Avalon, where some of us now live, is an incorporated city with the facilities needed for such an organization.”

  Zach raised his hand and said, “May I speak, Mr. Chairman?”

  “Yes, please do,” said Peckham, happy to have a moment to think.

  “It seems to me that we’re getting off track here,” Zach said. “We are here to discuss what functions an organization might have, not where it will be housed.”

  “Some would say,” Goldman responded haughtily, “that his whole meeting is off track. An organization already exists. It’s the State of California.”

  “Sacramento was totally destroyed, as were all the major cities,” Peckham responded. “There currently is no State of California.”

  “Yes there is,” Marcus cut in. “There is a governor and a capital. We should abide by their rules.”

  Zach was amazed that Marcus would take Goldman’s side but remembered that he said that they were associated as members of an organization. He wondered what kind of an organization it was. He responded, “Our dealings with them tell us they are illegitimate. I don’t believe anyone here, with the exception of you two, will abide by anything they come up with.”

  “I speak for the people from Simi Valley,” Marcus claimed. “They selected me as their leader.”

  “Is that true?” Peckham called out.

  Several members of the group stood. They were shaking their heads. “As far as I’m concerned,” one said, “we just asked him to help us get settled. As it turned out, you people were the ones who did that. “I’m with you guys, not Marcus and Barry.”

  “Hear, hear,” said another of those standing.

  “Is that a consensus?” Peckham asked.

  The same two people and several others said yes. Others were silent but nodded. Marcus and Goldman folded their arms and looked angrily at those who spurned them but said nothing.

  “Okay,” said Peckham, “let’s get back to the purpose of this meeting. Does anyone have an idea how we should structure ourselves?”

  There were hushed conversations but no one responded out loud.

  “Come, come,” said Peckham, “Some of you must have at least a basic idea.” He pointed to where the youngsters sat in the back row. “This is the perfect opportunity for these young people to learn how democracy works in the real world.”

  After a few more seconds of near silence, Denise raised her hand.

  “Yes, Denise?”

  “My brother and I. . . ” she started to say in a quiet voice.

  “You’ll have to speak up.”

  She stood and raised her voice. “My brother and I have been reading a book on the history of the United States. He, that is, we think we have something that might give you a place to start.”

  “Excellent,” said Peckham. “What do you suggest?”

  Denise turned to Glen, who stood. He held the book in his hand. “It’s all right here,” he said.

  “What is it about?” a woman asked.

  “The Constitution of the United States.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 36

  “THE Constitution? You’ve got to be kidding,” snapped Lockman.

  Denise stood again. “He knows what he’s talking about.

  “Let the young man talk,” Peckham said. “Go ahead, Glen.”

  “We’ve been reading early history, and we read how the Constitution and all the amendments were adopted,” Glen said, speaking forcefully so all would hear him. “It sounds like you’re about to set up an organization and decide what rights people should have. It seems to me that it’s all right here.” He pointed to the book in his hand.

  “It’s outdated,” Lockman snapped.

  “It has been amended many times to keep it current,” Glen pointed out.

  “Not really,” Lockman argued. “The reality is that people deserve many more rights than that shallow document allows. But the powers that be were too stubborn to change it, primarily because of their own selfish reasons.”

  “We read about that, too,” Denise cut in. “The forefathers intentionally made it difficult to amend so it wouldn’t keep changing every time some new group got in power and came up with a bunch of new ideas. Otherwise, it would just keep going back and forth. I think that was so it would be a lasting document.”

  “If you ask me, it’s been amended far too many times,” one man called out. “They should have left it alone after the bill of rights.”

  “Oh, so you don’t think women should be allowed to vote?” his wife retorted.

  “I didn’t mean that,” he replied sheepishly. “But right from the start that document is what allowed this to become the world’s greatest nation, so I don’t see why it needs to be changed all the time.”

  “Things do change,” another man said.

  “But the Constitution hasn’t changed all that much,” another woman said. “The young lady pointed out it’s hard to do.”

  “And she and her brother accomplished what we weren’t able to do,” Peckham noted enthusiastically. “They got the conversation underway. Let’s keep it going.”

  It was like opening floodgates.

  Over the next three hours, people related their experiences with bylaws for organizations such as chambers of commerce, service clubs, and fraternal orders. After they discussed the substance of those documents, the group concluded that they were too focused on a single area of concern. They did show, however, how a document could spell out the substance of an organization.

  They also discussed city charters and state constitutions as possible examples, but those who had experience with such documents told the others how wordy and cumbersome most were.

  “The legal gobbledegook that is supposedly put there to clarify issues instead muddles everything,” a man who was involved with several charters and constitutions noted. “A large percentage is left to interpretation, so it is usually fought out by a bunch of attorneys instead of regular citizens.”

  Toward the end of the meeting, the U.S. Constitution was again brought into the discussion.

  “Some of it is open to interpretation, too,” said the man who described charters and state documents. “The beauty of it, though, is that it is short and interpreting it is the job of the Supreme Court.”

  By mid-afternoon, the meeting was about to break up so the Avalon group could get back before sunset but Peckham noticed the two Chinese men in a spirited discussion.

  “Do you have something to add, Captain Wang?” the meeting chairman asked.

  “Other than I believe you are on the right track, no,” said Wang. “However, Yu, my executive officer, made an observation that I think these people might want to hear.”

  The Chinese executive officers stood. “Everyone here was permitted to say whatever they thought, and sometimes others disagreed. Then, they, too, were allowed to say what they thought,” he said. “No one was silenced. I heard about such things happening, but I never believed it. Except for my time at sea, I have lived my entire life in China. We have no such freedoms. We were never allowed so say anything in public except what the government has decreed.”

  “Welcome to the U.S.A.,” said Peckham.

  * * * * *

  “Get back here right now!” Silva exclaimed excitedly, yelling into the single sideband’s microphone. He wasn’t able to get through to Malcolm Slaughter until late evening and he was furious.

  “Whoa, there, guv,” came Slaughter’s reply. “What’s up?”

  “Some nu
ts around here have called an election, that’s what’s up,” Silva spat into the mike.

  “Say again?” Slaughter said. “It sounded like you said something about an election.”

  “That’s exactly what I said. They got the local newspaper editor running for governor. You’ve got to come back and get rid of them.”

  “How can they call an election?”

  “How should I know? The same way we did, I guess. They just called it, that’s all. I don’t care. Even if they claim to have some kind of authority, it isn’t the issue. The issue is, they’re troublemakers and need to be eliminated. Their so-called election is in a little less than three days. That’s soon, but it gives you plenty of time to get back here and break it up.”

  Slaughter reacted differently to Silva under these circumstances than when they were sitting around talking face-to-face. In those situations, when Silva got excited as he was now, the big man replied in kind. Now, he was in his element, getting ready for battle. He remained calm and spoke smoothly. The volume was turned up on the radio so everyone in the room heard him.

  “Governor, I can’t do that. We’re invading Catalina in a day and a half. There’s no way we can postpone it. That would give the coast guard time to get back to the area and change everything.”

  “Forget Catalina,” Silva yelled.

  “Calm down. Look, it doesn’t sound to me like this so-called election is a big deal. Certainly not like Catalina. You’ve just got some pipsqueak out trying to make a name for himself. I’ll send some guys to take him out.”

  “Sure he’s a pipsqueak but I’ve known him for years, and he somehow does things that I know darn well are beyond him. He and that newspaper he worked for played a big part in getting me ousted from the legislature and tossed in jail. Sending a few guys won’t do it.”

  “The newspaper doesn’t exist anymore, so both his cover and his protection are gone.”

  Silva was still livid and his voice croaked, but Slaughter’s calm demeanor and reasonable responses moderated his responses. “He has friends and a lot of them carry guns. You and the fifty guys you took with you need to come back to take care of this.”

  “Okay, I see what you’re getting at, guv,” Slaughter agreed, hoping the condescension in his voice would go undetected. He needed to keep Silva calm. “Hold on a second while I think about this.” After a few seconds, he came back on. “Okay, I have it. Your lieutenant governor, Nick Garcia, is down south and isn’t doing much of anything right now. He has fifty or sixty guys just going around looking for more people for our work camps, so he has the time. I’ll get hold of Nick and tell him to head to Tracy with forty of his guys. I’ll send ten from here so that you’ll have a few who are familiar with the layout there. That’s fifty, plus a leader.”

  Silva’s ego wouldn’t let him admit, even to himself, that an underling was patronizing him. Besides, it wasn’t a bad suggestion. There needed to be a negotiation, though. “Mal, this is a job for a tough guy like you.”

  “Next to me, Nick is the toughest guy around. I’ve whipped everyone who was dumb enough to take me on since I was fifteen, but he just about knocked me out when he tried it. Nobody else came close.”

  “Look, I know he’s a good man. That’s why I made him lieutenant governor,” Silva grumbled. “But he can’t take your place in a situation like this.”

  “Of course not, no one can,” Slaughter laughed, “but the main thing you need is numbers, and with the fifty that are already there, this will give you one hundred hardened fighters. It won’t make any difference who’s in charge. And, it won’t make any difference how many of those hicks have guns. They’ll all turn and run when they see what they’re up against.”

  Silva calmed down even more but wasn’t ready to give in. “Are you sure they need you out there? That fellow you call an admiral can handle the attack on Catalina.”

  “Yes, McFee is an important part of the assault. In fact, he will be in charge of the attack on the Isthmus side. I’m the lead commander, though, and I’m going to lead the assault on the back side, Catalina Harbor. Without the coast guard ship there to contend with, we’ll clobber them with virtually no opposition. That’s why we need to keep to our timetable. Our plan can’t be changed.”

  “What about that submarine I heard you talking about?”

  “Good question, guv. At first, I was going to send in two decoy ships and let them waste their two torpedoes on them. Fate stepped in to help us out, though. The way things now stand, the submarine won’t even get into the battle. Instead of being decoys, the two ships will be fully armed warships.”

  “How did you manage that?”

  “As it turns out, there’s a guy out there who’s on our side that we never knew about. He’s going to keep the sub out of our hair.”

  “Wow! Who?”

  “I’ll explain it all when I get back, Guv. The main thing is, you need to keep this in mind. . . in three days, we’ll own Catalina and you’ll still be governor. There’s no telling where we can go from there. The sky is the limit and as time goes on, we’ll conquer that, too.”

  Silva liked the sound of that. He really did want all those upstarts at Two Harbors killed, and he wanted the island. With a follower already on Catalina to do his bidding, he would have easy access to everything, including some slave labor. And, yes, what could Campbell do? The police chief, another enemy, was a friend of his and probably in cahoots, but they were outnumbered and outgunned. Now that he had the facts, he could see that everything was going to work out. And, Mal was right. Once they eliminated the opposition, there would be no limit.

  “Very well, Mal,” he said, “Get Garcia here, pronto. I’d like him here in time for me to tell him what we need.”

  “I’ll tell him to hustle. But remember that the main roads are all out,” Slaughter reminded him, “so it will take a couple of days for him to get there. He’ll be there by election time, though, and so will my ten men. They’ll all be armed and ready for action.”

  “You know,” Silva exclaimed, his mood now a complete reverse of the distress he exhibited earlier, “I’m starting to look forward to this stupid election. It’s going to solidify my power.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 37

  IT was dark by the time Zach and Warren’s boats returned to Avalon with the people who attended the meeting. They used a generator to light the hotel’s dining hall while they ate. There was some solar power available, too, but all forms of power were used sparingly.

  Sophie, who usually shared cooking duties with Barry Lockman, prepared dinner by herself. Barry helped her serve as soon as he arrived. Those who did not attend the meeting stayed around, wanting to get personal reports from those who did. Marcus and Barry did not offer opinions about the session and glowered at those who did. The others all spoke enthusiastically about what occurred.

  Several volunteers cleaned up and washed the dishes, and the crowd dispersed soon after. Being as there was nothing open, most went directly to their “new” homes. When the generator was turned off and all went dark, Zach and Warren walked toward the pier where their boats were tied.

  Once they were sure they were out of earshot of the others, Warren said, “I counted fifteen people who I think we can ask to go with us when we sneak up on the invaders day after tomorrow.”

  “We’ll have to compare notes tomorrow morning,” Zach replied. “I only spotted nine I thought we could trust.”

  “Let’s do it right now,” Warren suggested.

  “I can’t right now,” said Zach, “The way Marcus has been acting, I think he could be our spy.”

  “He has been acting weird,” Warren agreed. “What are you going to do?”

  “Not much I can do,” said Zach, “except follow him and try to catch him in the act.”

  “That may take all night,”

  “I’ve already warned Stacey that I may not be home tonight.”

  * * * * *

  Mary Ambrose was anxi
ous. The self-appointed governor and his cronies found out about her friends and their plans for an election. She had to warn them.

  The problem was, Silva and Venable had become more worried about the election. She heard them talking. At first, they were in agreement with Slaughter’s assessment that Campbell was harmless. But the more they talked, the more the memories of how Campbell had derailed Silva’s plans years before were rekindled. Maybe he wasn’t so harmless after all.

  It was after nine p.m. and they hadn’t left the lobby all night. They called in several people to go over ideas for disrupting the election and doubled the guards around them. She was on the second floor and had to pass through the lobby to get outside to the dumpster where she left her messages.

  She watched the second hand go around and around, opening up and cleaning several rooms as she waited. Still they talked. She just had to suck it up and take a chance. She slipped the master key she used to get into the rooms in her pocket, picked up her mop and bucket, and walked downstairs.

  The conversations stopped when they saw her coming. It remained silent while she went over to the utility room. As she opened the door, Silva called out, “Mary, what are you doing here so late?”

  Startled, she stammered, “Oh, ah, just cleaning one of the rooms upstairs, Di. . . I mean, Governor.” She ducked into the room to put the mop and bucket away.

  “You go on home now,” he said when she came out of the room.

  “Yes, sir, I plan to do just that.” She hurried out the back door and walked to the dumpster. She got down on one knee to put the note in the usual hiding place.

  Before she could get it put away, a hand reached over her shoulder and grabbed her arm.

  * * * * *

  When Zach got to the house that Marcus lived in, all was dark. He moved in close so that he could hear any conversation inside the house.

  All was deathly quiet. Even the usual night sounds of insects and small animals scurrying about were missing. He stood perfectly still, listening. After a while, his ear picked up a slight sound. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it was to the right. Marcus’ house was there, but he soon determined it wasn’t coming from that house. He walked quietly around the house just as a few clouds dispersed slightly and a little starlight slipped through. The small amount of light enabled him to make out several houses in the direction of the sound.