Gideon didn't say anything. Cassidy was visibly grinding her teeth.
“That's why I like living out here,” continued Cassidy. “We're far away from everyone else. We can actually do things. That's why San Francisco is so important while everywhere else is shit. We get things done.”
“So you want to vote to fix things?”
“Well that and so I don't feel like a half-person. No one, and I mean no one has done more for this city than me. The paving of Market Street, you know who financed that? Me. I financed that. When I was a kid, the roads out here were a muddy shit hole. Before me, it was a god damned dirt road. Back then, they had no money. Nothing. It was a city full of poor people and Chinese. I've even had men in government admit that I am utterly indispensable to the city. I've had them admit that I am ten times the man of anybody there. And here I am. I still can't goddamn vote. Yes, I can buy anything that I want... but I can't vote.”
Gideon just stared at the table. “I'm... sorry. I don't really know what to say or do.”
“Oh there's nothing to,” said Cassidy, dismissive of herself. “It's just that you're the first person I've met in awhile who hasn't already heard me rant. I'm not passing up an opportunity like that.”
Gideon smiled. “Yeah. I am sympathetic, though. I want you to know that.”
“Oh, no. I basically knew that,” Cassidy said, reaching over to the pot and pouring tea into their two cups. “If I didn't think you were sympathetic, I don't think I would have brought it up. Bring up stuff like that in front of people who disagree and they get violent quick. I don't really understand it. And that's with no small amount of thought on the subject. It is just impossible for me to put myself in their shoes.” Cassidy leaned back and sipped her tea. “Just being a woman with an opinion is enough to open the floodgates of abuse. It's goddamned scary sometimes. Mark my words, a hundred years from now, women will have no troubles whatsoever. 1981 will be a wonderful year. Woman for president!” Cassidy stared into her tea with a happy and wistful expression. “I don't know. Maybe president is wishful thinking. Vice president. There you go. That's reasonable. A woman for vice president in 1981.” She adjusted her legs, folding one over the other. “Do you like Jebediah?”
“Pardon?” said Gideon, surprised by the sudden change in conversation.
“Jebediah,” replied Cassidy. “Do you like him?”
“Umm, yes? I mean, I respect him a great deal.”
“I didn't ask if you respected him. Although that would also be interesting. I asked if you liked him. You may not have worked with him, but you've undoubtedly been around him enough to make an assessment.”
Gideon thought for a moment. “I suppose I like him. He's never wronged me nor has he wronged anyone I've ever known. He is respectful and charitable. I have never known him to abuse his office. I think that a man of such character should be liked. I think society would do well to have more like him.”
“Good god man, what are you, his lover?”
“What? I... no. Of course not. I mean, of all—”
“I didn't mean it literally. But you're practically waxing poetic about him. The man has to have some flaws. Everyone has flaws,” Cassidy said, still not sitting up.
Gideon looked down in thought. “Well, I've known him to be short when irritated. He can be judgmental of other men who fail in his eyes. He has no tolerance for those who indulge in drink. In fact, his expectations of others can be sometimes hard to achieve, if not impossible.”
“That's what I'm talking about. That's a pretty big flaw,” said Cassidy, sitting up.
“I don't think that it's big. Expecting quality and integrity from people? The onus is on them.”
“Yes, but being unforgiving of failure is extreme. You're liable to throw away someone good simply because they messed up.”
“Well,” Gideon paused in thought. “Again, I think highly of Mr. Ames. While his expectations may be unreasonable at times, I think I can give him the benefit of the doubt in saying that he has never dismissed someone in haste.”
“Fair enough,” said Cassidy, leaning back on the couch. “I am curious because of the compliment he paid you as he left. You had been complaining about not being recognized for your work, and then, as he's leaving, conveniently, he gives you some of the attention that you had wanted.”
Gideon thought on it for a moment. “Do you find it suspicious?”
“Well, not suspicious enough to do anything about. Just peculiar. Times are difficult for him right now, and only now does he deign to give you some attention. A good person deserves rewards, and another good person gives them when deserved. And I don't want to sound like I'm tooting my own horn, but consider myself an excellent judge of character. I rarely encounter people who so obviously have a streak of goodness running through them as you do.”
“You embarrass me,” said Gideon.
“Oh pish. Don't be embarrassed. It's not meant to flatter you. It's a concrete assessment. It's an advantage that you have... to be naturally good. There aren't many of those like you in the world. And it is frustrating when I see those people being taken advantage of by people who are not good. You work hard for two years with nary a nod, then suddenly, when things are difficult, he says to you you handle it.”
“Oh, I didn't see it like that at all. I saw it as him trusting me with something important.”
“Oh, no,” Cassidy said, shaking her hand at Gideon while she put her tea on the tray. “I suspect he meant it that way, too. But I just see it the other way as well. I'm somewhat primed to interpret his actions negatively since, again, you spent two years with not so much as a thank you. Remember what I said, that you need to be an asshole to succeed?”
“Yes. How could I forget?”
“Well that's only when assholes are above you. When good people are above you, they recognize goodness below them. I try to do that in my company. The thought of good workers going unrecognized actually keeps me up at night. Goodness should be recognized. Unrecognized, it is an injustice. And injustice over which I have control! It's almost... biblical, really. That's what all of Christianity is about: internal goodness that is, in an unjust world, finally recognized in a perfectly just afterlife. I'm not one for believing in the afterlife. We're having enough trouble as it is with the life life. We can't even keep our cows fed. How the hell people expect to achieve cosmic transcendence is beyond me. But even if there is an afterlife, I don't care. I don't care because justice then doesn't excuse injustice now. We could eradicate injustice, or come damn close, so fight for it! Good people deserve things, goddammit! Even if you can't reward them, even if you can't give them things, you should at least recognize them. At least say you are good. It's so goddamn easy... so easy. And you are good that has gone unrecognized. Something that is easy and well within the scope of one of the most powerful men in the country, has not been done.” Cassidy shook her head. “Because of that, I don't have high hopes for Jebediah.”
Gideon nodded as he thought. “Again, all I can do is speak from experience. I believe him to be a man of morals and honor, and I like to think myself a decent judge of character as well.”
“Fair enough,” Cassidy said again with a smile. She sat there silently for a moment before letting out a big sigh. “I'm getting restless. They've got to be in Salinas by this point. You think it's safe to leave?”
“Um, yeah. I don't see any reason to stay put. We'll be just as fine elsewhere.”
Cassidy nodded. “You going to head back to your hotel?”
“Yes. Most likely. It's where I will get further information, so I guess it's best to stay available.”
“Yeah,” Cassidy said as she got up and stretched. “Maybe I'll visit you for breakfast again tomorrow.”
“I would... enjoy that. Your treat again?”
“You're lucky you're cute,” said Cassidy with a sly look. Gideon smiled warmly in return.
“You heading back through the tunnel?”
“Yeah. Seem
s best to stay hidden,” said Cassidy, her arms flopped over her head.
“Certainly does. I'll see you tomorrow. Stay safe.”
“Oh,” Cassidy said with a smile. “Always.”
---
Cassidy's feet fell upon the nighttime road heavily and quickly. In broad strides she walked down the gas-lit cobblestones toward her house. Reaching the wrought iron archway that crossed the entrance to her garden, she stood. She looked up at her house, lit brightly, and then turned, facing the brick and wood buildings on the other side of the street. She looked out at the various windows. No one was immediately visible. Cassidy inhaled deeply, stuck her arms straight and far in front of her, and then extended both of her middle fingers. She turned to the left and right, beaming the symbol like a crude lighthouse.
“Fuck! You!” she yelled. “Do you hear me?! Fuck! You!” Cassidy turned right, then back to the left and was surprised by a old couple walking down the street. She withdrew her gestures quickly and brought her arms to her side. “Ahem...” she paused awkwardly. “Not... you. All of the, uh... the people... in the buildings... watching... me.” The old woman made a shocked and appalled sound before the two continued on their way. Cassidy fidgeted for a moment before turning and walking down the street.
---
The black boots ran quickly along the wet, reflective pavement. The group of men scurried through the shadows of the boxes and buildings along the docks. They converged upon and surrounded the two carriages, illuminated in a pool of light from a gas lamp. The shadows of ship masts filled the nascent night and the sounds of men working and yelling could be heard in the distance. They whispered and signaled quiet commands to one another. Then, after a moment of rest, the entire group descended upon the carriages with guns drawn. The men rushed up to the first carriage and threw the doors open only to be greeted by Amos, his face fully lit by a pillar of lamp light.
“It's about damn time you arrived. Now, we can finally go home,” Amos said. The man stared at him briefly before looking in the rest of the carriage, only finding Margie and Joseph, who was sound asleep and snoring loudly. The man stepped back and looked to his associates at the other carriages. Another man stepped into the light, shaking his head. The first man turned back and looked at Amos' grumpy visage again.
“Are you done?” asked Amos.
---
The carriages rolled down the road, slowly and easily. Sheng drove the lead carriage, looking very tired. Cassidy walked down the street in the opposite direction. The sound of the carriages caught her attention and she looked up, seeing Sheng.
“Sheng!” Cassidy yelled.
“Cassidy!” Sheng replied. Cassidy ran over to the carriage. “You alright?” she asked.
“Yes. We're fine. We were heading home.”
Cassidy opened the carriage doors and looked in, finding Amos' still grumpy face, dominated by a fierce, face-splitting frown. “You're too late,” said Amos.
“Late for what?” asked Cassidy.
“We were accosted by some of our mystery men about ten minutes ago,” said Joseph with a yawn. “They were obviously looking for the kids and scurried off when they couldn't find them.”
Cassidy chuckled. “Good. Bastards. Well George and Anna are away. Long gone by now. And that's the last I think we'll be seeing of our mystery friends. I'd imagine that they'll want to forget we even exist.”
“Oh, if it were only that easy,” said Amos.
“You know, you are just so pleasant to be around,” said Joseph. Amos just stared back.
“Here, move over,” Cassidy said to Joseph. She then stood on the step to bring herself up to Sheng's level. “Let's head home. There may be a couple of empty seats at the table for awhile, but it's still home.”
“Heading home,” replied Sheng. Cassidy then slid inside the carriage and shut the door.
10
The stars twinkled brightly in the moonless sky. The silhouette of the tree-covered hills undulated in the distance. Save for the sounds of delicate winds brushing along the tree tops, the world was silent. The line of lights lead by a growing pillar of steam crawled along the landscape, slowly making its way south through the Californian countryside.
Inside the train car, George lay in one of the sleeper compartments, snoring quietly. Roger slept on one of the couches, one leg dangling on the floor, with a paperback copy of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar on his chest. Sitting under the mellow, golden light of a single gas lamp, Jebediah and Anna were sitting, reading books.
“I hope you don't think me invasive, but I've noticed that you have barely said a word since we got on the train,” said Jebediah, not looking up from his book.
“I'm sorry,” said Anna.
“No need to be sorry. It was just an observation.”
Anna paused and let her book close slightly. “I just don't like to talk very much.”
“Well would you mind talking?”
Anna thought for a moment and then looked up at Jebediah. “Why?”
“We're going to be together for some time. I think it would be wise to at least get to know one another. And if nothing else, maybe we can distract one another from the mire of our thoughts.”
“Yes... I suppose so,” replied Anna. “What do you want to talk about?”
“There are a few things I would like to know, but those can wait. Tell me about yourself.”
“There's not much to tell, really.”
“Alright, is there anything you want to know about me?”
Anna thought for a moment. “How old are you?”
Jebediah smiled. “I'm fifty-six years old.”
“How long have you worked for the government?”
“Oooh... um. Forty-one years, or there abouts. My father was in shipping and he had people always in government, so one day at around fifteen, I tagged along. I've been there ever since.”
“Do you have a family?”
Jebediah's smile waned somewhat. “Yes. I do.”
“Children?”
“Yes. I have three. Two sons and one daughter,” he said in an almost wistful tone.
“Do you not see them often?”
Jebediah's smile disappeared completely. “No. I don't.”
“Why?”
“It's... a long story.” He then looked up at Anna, the golden light making her look even younger than she already was. “Well, we will be arriving in Los Angeles in six or seven hours.”
“I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?” asked Anna.
“No, no,” Jebediah replied emphatically and in a comforting tone. “You said nothing wrong. Perhaps because I finally stopped reading this blasted book, I am now tired. I think that we should both try to find some rest.”
“Yes,” Anna said. “I sometimes read all night. I always regret it.”
Jebediah smiled another warm smile as he rose from his chair. “There will be no regrets on this train. Good night, Anna.”
“Good night, Mr. Ames.”
---
The cabin was dark. All of the lamps were unlit and the only light came from faint pools of blue from the stars outside. The sound of the tracks clacking and the slight rocking of the car were all there was to disturb the otherwise pristine atmosphere.
Anna's eyes slowly opened. She rubbed the sleep from them with the thumb and pointer finger of one hand before groggily descending from her sleeping compartment. She opened the door to the wash room and sat down on the toilet to pee. She grunted a tired grunt and bobbed back and forth with the motion of the train. As she sat there, her bead came up in attention, then a bit more. Her eyes squinted as a new sound could be heard over the sound of the train car. It started off as just a hum, but proceeded to get ever louder. Anna's eyes were now fully open and awake. She quickly wiped and pulled up her pants before rushing outside. She walked over to Jebediah's sleeping compartment and shook him on the shoulder.
“Mr. Ames,” she said quietly but firmly. “Mr. Ames,” she said more loudly.
&
nbsp; Jebediah awoke and came to attention quickly. “What is it, Anna?”
“Do you hear that?” she asked. “The humming sound.”
Jebediah looked off as he listened. “Yes,” he said. “I do hear it.” Jebediah awoke immediately and came out from his compartment. He stood up to wake George, who was above him. “George,” he said, giving George a shake. “George. Get up.”
George shook awake, surprised by the stimulation. “What? What is it?”
“I don't know yet,” said Jebediah.
Jebediah walked over to Roger, still asleep on the couch. “Roger. Wake up. Something is happening.” Roger rose quickly and without sleepiness.
“Something?”
“Yes. Arm yourself, just in case.” Roger got up and lifted up a cabinet, pulling out shotguns, giving one to Jebediah. The four stood there, in the dark, as the noise got louder.
“Roger, look out the back,” said Jebediah. As Roger headed to the back windows to look out, Jebediah headed to the front of the car to look out the window directly abutting the wash room. He pressed his face against the window and gazed out into the night. “Roger! He called. “Do you—”
SMASH!
Jebediah was flung like a doll back onto the floor. Glass and wood rained down upon every person and surface. George and Anna clung to one another and fell to the ground, shielding themselves from the shrapnel. After the initial storm, everyone looked up to see giant metal slabs, four in total, grabbing in through the windows on one side of the car and clear through the wooden wall on the other side. Bright lights suddenly illuminated the area around the car as the sound of men dropping heavily onto the roof echoed in the cabin. Heavy footsteps went up and down the car, following loud ch-thunk sounds, before both went silent. The four looked about nervously, guns aimed at the roof.
The relative calm was broken by the sounds of small explosive charges firing up and down the train car. Jebediah moved closer to Anna and George and tried to shield them from the bits of shrapnel produced by the explosions.
Then, as the last of the charges fired near the rear of the car, a momentary calm returned.
Cassidy St. Claire and The Fountain of Youth Parts I, II, & III Page 21
