Letter to Belinda

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Letter to Belinda Page 15

by Tim Tingle


  “Are we going the right way, Dad?”

  “Well, according to the map, we are. Isn’t this what the recording said is the next station?”

  “Yep!”

  “Then we are going the right way. See? Here is Hyde Park Station, two stops beyond this next one.”

  “How fast are we going?”

  “Pretty dog-gone fast! The wall is just a blur.”

  The speaker announced the next station, then as the train slowed, and stopped, it again reminded them to ‘mind the gap’.

  “What does that mean, to ‘mind the gap’?”

  “I think it means to ‘be careful of’ the gap between the side of the train, and the curb, as you are stepping off, or getting on. Someone has probably fallen through before.”

  “So to ‘mind’ something, means to ‘be careful’ of it?”

  “I think so.”

  Smiling, Drew had found his catch-phrase for the entire trip. “Mind the gap, lads! When I get home, I can tell Joey to ‘mind the fist’, before I hit him!”

  “You’d better be nice to your little brothers. Some of them will be bigger than you, one day.”

  “Yeah, one day! But not right now! Mind the big brother! I’m coming through!”

  “In fact, Joey is almost as big as you now!”

  “Yeah, but he’s a wimp! He won’t even play football!”

  “He might next year.”

  “Mind the fullback! Here I come! Crash! Smash! Oh my God, he’s a killer!”

  “Yeah, you wish! What do you weigh? 140?”

  “155.”

  “Well, you’re going to meet a lot of defensive linemen who are pushing 250. A lot of linebackers that will be 200.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll be quicker! They’ll say, ‘What was that purple flash that just went by?’ I’ll leave a trail of smoking grass right up the middle!”

  “You sound pretty confident. You think being a senior makes you one Bad Dude, don’t you?”

  “Oh yeah! We’re getting in the playoffs this year!”

  “Well, I’ll be right there, watching every game. Every blow, every hit you take!”

  “The other teams will be saying: ‘Mind the fullback!’ when they see me coming!”

  The train screeched to a halt at the next station, with the announcement of the station name, and the warning to ‘Mind the gap!’. A group of people got on, and most of them got off at the very next stop. One stop more, and they were at the Hyde Park Station.

  “This is our exit, Drew.” They got off, and climbed a short set of steps, and rode the escalator up to the turn-stile level, and exited into daylight once more. On the hillside above them was the entrance to a beautifully manicured park.

  “It says Hyde Park. Look at the Bobbies on horseback.”

  “That’s the police?”

  “Yes, they’re called Bobbies. I hope we’re not too late to hear the debates at Speaker’s Corner.”

  “Which way is Speaker’s Corner?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t see any signs to tell us. It’s such a big park, we could waste a lot of time looking for it. Let’s ask this old gentleman. Excuse me, sir!”

  The old man wore a heavy coat and derby hat, and carried a folded umbrella as a walking stick, and a folded newspaper under his arm. His mustache seemed ridiculously oversized.

  “Eh?”

  “Can you tell us how to get to Speaker’s Corner?”

  “Speaker’s Corner, you say? Abit aster I’m sure! Go abit around the run, and up the flank. A merry flock’a yappers yul see there! An quit’a bit-a quid pinchers as well, no dout! So yer Yanks, are ye?”

  “Yes, we’re Americans.” Travis replied.

  “Aye! Durin de war was Yanks everywhere! Overpaid an oversixed, an over here, they was! I go no usen forum!”

  They looked at him blankly, then Drew replied: “I’m sorry, but we’re Americans. We don’t speak English.”

  The old man cackled with laughter and waved them off, as he waddled away.

  “Where is Speaker’s Corner?” Travis asked again. As he walked away, the old man pointed up the hill to his right.

  “I guess it’s that way.” Travis concluded.

  “Do they all talk like him?” Drew asked.

  “No, I think he has a speech impediment, and probably mental issues. Let’s go this way.”

  The sidewalks were lined with blooming flowers on one side, and very neatly trimmed grass on the other. Not a single grass clipping could be seen anywhere. The gardeners who took care of things here were perfectionists. Well groomed ivy was allowed to reside on some tree trunks, and the bases of monuments, and even on some brick walls, but it was kept meticulously trimmed and guided. The entire park was a study in perfection, and attention to details, that Travis had never seen before. Someone enjoyed their work.

  Pigeons eyed them eagerly, and kept pace with them as they walked, anticipating that they might drop a few crumbs of food, as these clumsy humans often did. Drew turned to see a fair sized flock of them following close behind.

  “I see a crowd up ahead,” Travis said, “Maybe that’s what we are looking for. It’s the biggest gathering of people we’ve seen all morning.”

  “Yeah there’s some kind of commotion going on.”

  They quickened their steps, and approached the crowd, which was starting to disperse, talking merrily, as though they had just left a performance of some sort, but there was no indication of what. Travis asked a passing girl if this was Speaker’s Corner.

  “Yes, this is roughly considered to be Speaker’s Corner. This whole end of the park, really. Are you a Yank?”

  “Yes, my son and I are from the U.S.”

  “Oh, you just missed it! The Bobbies just hauled off two eccentric looking chaps who both claimed to be Jesus Christ, at his second coming!”

  “They were arrested? I thought this was the place to speak one’s mind?”

  “It is, but when you exchange blows, and spill blood, it’s gone too far! See the blood on the cobblestones?”

  “Good lord! It looks like they slaughtered a pig! Did they use knives?”

  “No, just fists, but you should have seen the way they were layin’ it to one another! It seemed that they both were a bit miffed that an impostor had shown up trying to steal their flock, and they each tried to goad the other into leaving, but to no avail. It escalated to a shouting match, then one shoved the other, and the fight was on! It was quite a tuss! One of them even bit off a piece of the other’s ear. See, there it is!”

  “Yes, that does look like a piece of ear lobe.”

  “A really nasty affair! I doubt that either of them won any converts!”

  “It doesn’t seem to have been a very good exhibition of Christian Love, that’s for sure.”

  “So they carried them off to jail?” Drew asked.

  “Most likely, there will be assault charges, and wounds to treat.”

  “Things seem to be breaking up. Are there any more speakers here?”

  “It’s getting a bit late. There were several earlier, but it’s about run it’s course for today. There’s a bloke over next to the main street still talking. The same bloke who is there every week, talking about the same things. Nobody pays him any mind.”

  As she and her friend walked off, Travis said, “Well, we might as well go see what he has to say, since we’re here.”

  “I wish I’d seen the two Jesus guys’ going at it! That would have been awesome, wouldn’t it, Dad?”

  “It would have been different.”

  They walked toward the busy street, and heard the speaker before they saw him. He was standing on a low slab of marble, adjacent to a World War I memorial, speaking very eloquently at the people who walked past, oblivio
us to the fact that no one seemed to be listening.

  “. . . And if we, as a proud British Nation, do not wake up, and realize that we are indeed at war with them, then the day will come in which it will be too late to do anything about it! In fact, it might already be too late, if we cling to this defeatist attitude! They are creeping into our once proud empire, and yes, even into our homeland, and the very neighborhoods in which we live, and intend to subvert the truth, and do anything they can do to accomplish their aims!

  “The immigration numbers are astounding! And what is even more astounding, is that our government, whose job it is to protect us, is allowing these immigrants to pour in unchecked! The conservative estimate is that they are pouring in at a rate of at least 100 per day! That is 36,500 per year, and remember, that is a conservative estimate! What percentage of them are legitimate immigrants, and what percent are sleeper agents, no one can say! I contend that it is part of a much larger plot! I have studied similar immigration numbers from France, and the same is happening there as well! France too is being over-run with Muslim immigrants, and in that country, the Muslims are already in such numbers that they are starting to demand that they be allowed to help run the country. That is their goal, to infiltrate our Christian societies, weaken our culture, while at the same time, demanding that we not only respect their culture, but adopt their culture! Their goal is not for Islam to co-exist with Christianity, but for us to abandon our Christian beliefs, and convert to Islam! That is their aim! They believe that if you do not convert to Islam, you should be enslaved, or killed! There is no tolerance whatsoever! Islam has already declared war on us! If we do not resist their intolerance, they will conquer us without having fired a shot!”

  Travis and Drew were the only ones who stopped to listen to him. Everyone else just kept walking.

  “What is he talking about, Dad?”

  “He’s talking about too many Muslim immigrants coming into England.”

  The speaker heard them, and replied: “We are at war already, and do not realize it! I am talking about the Muslim invasion of this country, as well as all of Western Europe! It is a plot! A master plan, to subvert our country, and make us insensitive to their plan to out-populate us from our own country! They come here, and buy businesses, and property, and our government seems unwilling to do anything about it! We must not allow this to happen, or else they will own all of Britain!”

  “Excuse me, sir! We are Americans. Is there a problem with Muslim immigrants in England?”

  “Is there a problem? Of course there is! They have openly vowed to overthrow every free-thinking democracy on earth, and replace it with an Islamic theocracy, and Sharia Law, like in Iran and Afghanistan today!”

  “But I thought Muslims were peaceful people?”

  “Most Muslims are, but there is an Islamic Fundamentalist movement afoot that is sweeping the Middle East, and a new, more dangerous breed of Islam is emerging. They are intent upon converting us to Islam, or killing us! The choice is ours! As ‘infidels’ in their eyes, we are to be either converted, enslaved, or killed, but not tolerated! They come here and use our open society, and our tolerance of them as a Democratic society against us! They insist on being allowed to practice Islam, but then turn it around and say that they are offended by our Christian views, and want us suppressed! This is madness! They come into our country, denounce our beliefs, and insist that we accept theirs! And our totally spineless Parliament wants to be ‘politically correct’, and appease them, thinking that they will somehow come to accept us later. That is total rubbish! Their leaders have already stated their long term goals, and they do not sound pretty from our prospective! We can appease them, like Chamberlain did in 1939 with Hitler, or we can open our bloody eyes, and see the reality of what is happening! Mark my words! This is 1998, and I predict that within the next five years, the handlers of this Islamic Monster is going to unleash the beast on the Western World! Then we will see their true colors! Perhaps then we will recognize the danger, and take decisive action against them! Like any other great evil we have seen from past history, it will take overwhelming resolve and sacrifice to tear its roots from our society! The longer we allow it to grow, and strengthen itself, the harder it will be to root out! Am I the only voice, crying from the wilderness against this great evil? Wake up, Britain! Wake up, Christians! Wake up, anyone who cherishes freedom! The sooner we act, the less painful it will be!”

  But no one seemed to care about his message. People passed by without responding, except one Middle-Eastern looking man, who in passing heckled, “Hate-monger!”

  In disgust, the speaker stepped down from his marble soap box, and approached the two Americans.

  “So, you are Yanks? What part of the States are you from?”

  “The State of Alabama.” Travis replied.

  “Ah yes! Home of Bull Connor, and the Civil Rights Movement! Did your ancestors own slaves? I doubt you would admit it if they did! Do you still use fire hoses to keep the negroes in their place?”

  “No, all that went out years ago. About the time England dropped from being a World Power, to a Third World country! Come on Drew, let’s go!”

  “Oh! I detect a bit of hostility! Perhaps a Yank would like to take the podium and officially address the crowd?”

  “What crowd? You bored them to tears! Besides, my Mama taught me that if I couldn’t say something good about someone, to not say anything at all!”

  “So what are you saying? That you have nothing good to say about Britain?”

  “And neither do you, apparently.”

  “I may speak out against social injustices, and about immigration, but I love my country, and my Queen, and I am offended that you would refer to us as a Third World country!”

  “The truth hurts. If your leaders are helpless to do something about immigration, then you might as well face it, you’re on the way down. A country has to protect its interests at any cost, or it becomes just another Congo, or Bangladesh.”

  “Britain was once the most influential nation on earth!”

  “Britain is a ‘has-been’! You guys once boasted that ‘the sun never set on the British Empire’, but now you have to face the facts. You’ve lost all your foreign colonies, the Irish Republican Army has you guys shaking in your boots! Even Scotland is talking about independence now! What’s left is not the British Empire, but just a small country called England! Alabama is probably bigger than England! And we have a city called Birmingham too! Bull Conner is dead, but the blacks are still not free, primarily because the NAACP, and outspoken black leaders have kept blacks in ‘self bondage’, by telling them that the White Man ‘owes them’ for the institution of slavery, which ended 130 years ago. They tell their people that they can’t succeed at anything, because the White Man has held them back. Many blacks believe that, and live their entire lives with a ‘victim mentality’. If they flunk out of school, it’s because they are black. If they don’t get a promotion, it’s because they are black. If they get caught dealing drugs, or driving drunk, it’s because they are black. If they get beat-up while resisting arrest, it is because they are black!

  “Twenty years ago, a black man became Mayor of Birmingham. Instead of reaching out to all the people of Birmingham, he appointed only blacks to city jobs, many of whom were not qualified for their appointments. They primarily hired black policemen, and firemen, and city services suddenly went down hill. Whites in Birmingham suddenly became second-class citizens. Garbage piled up in the streets in white areas, and when white residents complained, it fell on deaf ears. Because city services declined, and property values started to plummet, whites began moving out of the city. This white flight caused property values to go even lower. When white residents left, it gave blacks the majority in city politics, and thus, less representation for white residents, so even more whites moved out. Crime got worse, the murder rate soared, and even more
whites moved out. And then, white owned businesses fled the city, which eroded the city’s tax base. Crime and unemployment got to be so bad that well off black families began to flee to the surrounding cities. Schools became dangerous places. City services became almost nonexistent. What little money the city did bring in, was disappearing off the books, because city officials were corrupt. Now the only candidates who run for elected city offices are black, and they seek office the same way drug lords jostle for power against other drug lords. They only run for office so they can get their hands on public funds. One recent candidate lost an election, because he had a white wife. The winning candidate won because he ran on the platform, ‘at least my wife is black!’ I have never personally lived in Birmingham, but as an outsider looking in at the city, I see no reason for me to go there, or do business there. And then the black officials in Birmingham spout off angrily at the white people who left Birmingham, saying it was their fault that Birmingham is the way it is! I just smile and say what Forest Gump said: ‘Stupid is, as stupid does.”

  “So what you are saying,” the Englishman concluded, “Is that Birmingham would be a better place if the Bull Connors of the world were still in control?”

  “No, what I am saying, is that I agree with your assessment of Muslims wanting to take over Britain. If they controlled things, then civilization would decline in England, just like it did in Birmingham Alabama, when the blacks took over.”

  “The major difference, of course, is that Muslims want to kill non-Muslims! That is what I can’t get fellow Brits to understand! Muslims say that their religion is a peaceful religion, but that is true only if it is the only religion! They have a deep hatred for non-Muslims.”

  Travis extended his hand to the man. “My name is Travis Lee, and this is my son, Drew. We are in England for a week.”

  “I am Professor Winthrop. I am a professor of Political Science at Oxford University, when school is in session. I am pleased to meet you Mr. Lee, and Drew. What brings you to England?”

 

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