CHAPTER SEVEN
FOUR FUNERALS AND A WEDDING
1
Real panic started to set in with all the frenzied, hectic fussing about. So many hands poking, jabbing, and sticking with this and that, or demands to turn this way or that, just so they could get a better look at the sideshow freak, it was enough to make you want to scream out at the top of your lungs for everyone to “STOP!” But somehow could only pleasantly reply with grateful nods and a pleasing smile. Waiting for this moment to come felt like it would take forever, if at all, still a nagging uncertainty persisted. The stomach-churning situation could not be allowed to continue and called for an immediate, last resort, desperate act to set things right.
Jumping down off the round dressing stand, wearing a long, flowing, traditional wedding gown, Eve ran straight for the door. Bursting out into the warm air on a late afternoon, mid-October Saturday, she sprinted by confused onlookers, leaving behind her maid-of-honor and bridesmaids with similarly perplexed expressions. Hurrying past the high-rising statuary columns lining the outer lobby, she headed into the east wing of the famous colossal structure.
Taking a couple of seconds to get her bearings, Eve stood there like a little girl lost. She could hear whispered, hushed voices coming from all around her, but didn’t pay any more attention to them than she did to an actual offer of assistance coming from a Good Samaritan.
“Excuse me. Are you okay? May I help you with something?” a young woman asked.
Brushing by the young woman after gaining a visual sense of her destination, Eve continued on her frantic flight. So much had happened in the three months since Michael’s accident made such a big splash on the news. His story played out in the media as a strange hybrid of the-little-boy-who-fell-down-a-well, with the added twist of the boy coming back up with the Dead Sea Scrolls. Hailed as a hero for his dramatic escape and rescue, Michael didn’t come through his, now famous, adventure unscathed or without any physical infirmities. After spending six weeks in a coma, with Eve refusing to leave his side the entire time, his Lazarus-like rise from the dead gained almost as much attention as his accidental expedition. Suffering no permanent injury or deformity, the healing process did not leave any physical scars, only deep, emotional, psychological ponderings about life and death he would soon find helpful during the defining moment of his life.
Michael was not the only one reluctantly thrust into the spotlight. Eve’s moment in the sun didn’t fit her any more comfortably than his did. Their wedding went from a small, cozy, backyard service with a few close friends to the second biggest event of the year, next to the Centennial celebration a few months ago. Given full media coverage, the event started earlier that day with a parade held in Michael’s honor down the old Las Vegas strip and ending at Caesar’s Palace, where the GAC would perform the ceremony just before sunset.
Eve didn’t mind the parade, since Michael seemed to enjoy it. Not for any of the admiration shown to him, but because it must have felt somewhat akin to the homecoming celebration those courageously intrepid astronauts received after the first moon landing. They also were hailed as heroes not for who they were, but because what they bravely accomplished. She was thankful for at least being able to wear a more comfortable dress during the parade, instead of the big, bulky (she had to admit beautiful) wedding gown her friends insisted on her getting after everything got so blown out of proportion.
Not all of the changes over the last three months were for the better or seen in a positive light. Max and Jean had to deal with blowback from the FWF concerning Michael’s newfound fame, along with the rebel group losing faith in Eve to accomplish her mission. Her not being pregnant didn’t help. According to Max (Jean kept direct contact to a minimum), the leaders of the FWF believed Eve had been won over by all the lavished attention poured on Michael, letting their increasing paranoia get the better of them. Although, it wasn’t just Michael’s recent celebrity causing the disturbance in the rebel force. A much darker power started taking shape, putting everyone on edge, unsure who could and could not be trusted.
Tragic hardships had befallen three different people connected to Michael and Eve, giving some credence to the old adage about bad things happening in threes. Inauspiciously, none of them had the same charmed, well-healed outcome Michael’s did. Found dead two weeks after Jacob fired him, Franklin Harriet expired in his apartment for no apparent reason. An autopsy later revealed he had died almost a week before, but could not determine the exact cause of death. Due to his anonymity, the minor mystery gathered little attention at the time, mostly because all the focus was on Michael. Next, after a healthy, normal pregnancy throughout most of her term, Hilary Edwards unexpectedly went into labor eight weeks early and gave premature birth with one of the twins stillborn. Hilary started to suffer from postpartum depression right after, making wild accusations about how the government killed her baby, claiming they gave her something to induce labor. Her irrational behavior led to her being hospitalized at her husband’s request, fearing she might harm herself or their newborn son, who she displayed a total disinterest in his care and seemed to blame the child. If fate had taken another turn, Hilary would have been one of Eve’s bridesmaids, along with Kim, Bridget, and Amanda, with Jackie as her maid of honor.
It wasn’t until the third tragic hardship that things started getting real tense when a bomb blast killed Michael’s father. A fringe group supposedly broke off from the FWF to impose harsher methods of accomplishing their goals. No one knew for sure if the fringe group calling themselves the AFW—Absolute Free Will—had any affiliation with the FWF, but proving the negative would be nearly impossible. Naturally, everyone in the rebel group denied their association and disavowed any knowledge of their actions. But the real question was, if they weren’t part of the FWF, where did they come from, and how did they become such a powerful voice so fast?
In order for any covert group to survive in New America, they needed to employ tactics popular in the days of guerilla warfare, operating from independent mission cells, existing separate from each other, but all working towards one specific goal—the Free Will to live their lives as they choose. And not by somebody else’s decree.
Yet, one of the biggest problems for any secret organization to overcome had always been the unavoidable fallout of somebody else doing something in your name. You could always try to defend yourself, which might lead to your capture or untimely death, also taking into account the more you denied something, the guiltier people thought you were. Trust was always a big issue. The important thing to remember in the espionage game was the simple, probable assumption that if you were doing it, chances were somebody else was doing it, too.
Afterwards, Eve wanted to tell Michael what she knew, but didn’t want to spoil everything for him with all the hoopla heaped upon their, now extravagant, wedding. It wasn’t until she saw her reflected self in the large dressing mirror, wearing the stunning and beautifully elegant, sweeping white gown, Eve felt compelled to get to Michael as quickly as she could, not wanting to waste another second and tell him the truth, for it had gone on far too long and gotten way too big to put off any longer, no matter the cost.
2
Just like every other day, Big Mike Francis woke up that morning grumpy, irritable, and pissed off at the world, never knowing it would be his last. Not that it made much difference to him. Big Mike had really stopped living a longtime ago and basically spent his days waiting around to die. A short, stocky, bitter man, who could only find joy in the misery of others, he spent his life working a job he hated to somehow be attached to his failed career dream of becoming an All-Star baseball player, which ended up making him even more of an ill-tempered grouch when the only work he could get was chauffeuring around his favorite team’s biggest rival.
Disappointment seemed to follow Big Mike throughout every aspect of his life. Although, there were many who wished they could have been fortunate enough to have what he once had. But he threw it all away because they didn�
��t fit in with his master plan.
Raised by loving parents in a stable family environment, Big Mike dismissed the nurturing, watchful eye of his caring mother as an overbearing burden. When all she wanted was to help guide him through life, setting him on the path best suited to bring him happiness. His father encouraged him to strive to do the best he could at whatever he chose to do. With the old man possessing only average skills, making him just good enough to play catcher for the Las Vegas Dodgers, the sound advice passed through empty ears too arrogant to understand you don’t have to be better than everybody else was, just the best you can be, which will lead you to true self-fulfillment.
Big Mike’s unfulfilled dreams of athletic glory far surpassed his father’s, believing the advantage of growing up around his one true love would be a blessing, but in the end became more of a curse when he couldn’t make the cut. No matter how much he failed to show them appreciation, his parents always remained supportive. His father even helped him get a job connected to the sport he loved so much.
The lack of appreciation he showed to the people in his life did not end with his parents and got worse as the years went by. It is hard to believe anyone could find displeasure in the beautiful, young woman chosen to be his SBP mate, except Big Mike could find fault in a big, bright rainbow after a sun shower on a lovely spring day. Michael’s mother, Angelica, was a sweet-natured woman, who on the other hand no one would blame if she rejected Big Mike. A tender, sensual lover, Angelica did everything in her power to make him happy, including giving birth to a healthy son. The thing Big Mike could never tell anyone, the reason he was so sexually disinterested in her, derived from the fact she reminded him of his mother with her gentle, caring ways. Unable to explain why he found her so unappealing, he decided to stick it out until after their kid grew up, which became his one ray of hope. He thought maybe a son might follow his father’s dream of making it to the big league, and then he could live vicariously through his kid’s accomplishments.
The biggest disappointment in Big Mike’s life turned out to be his son, especially as a child. A skinny, awkward kid, who took more after his mother with a strong love of art, literature, music, and movies—things his father found rather useless. One of the few good times shared between father and son came from the time when he taught Michael, a natural lefty, how to throw righty, something he adapted to without much effort, just not to the desired effect his father had in mind.
Never a big sports fan, learning to throw right-handed allowed Michael to become more proficient and equally versatile using a sword with either hand. It was one physical activity he really loved. His father didn’t care for swordplay, which had become very popular over the years from the country’s love of the Prophet Warrior. Swords reminded Big Mike of his failure as a baseball player, being too uncoordinated to handle the speed of the ancient art, subsequent to the fact he couldn’t hit a fastball.
Estranged for many years, the great divide between father and son grew to the size of the Grand Canyon at Michael’s mother’s funeral. During a loving eulogy given by her somber son, Michael claimed all the good in him came directly from her, to which his father took exception, saying something forever crossing the line on the way out of the memorial service, burying any relationship they had right alongside his mother.
Feeling the hand clamping down hard on his shoulder, Michael didn’t need to turn around. He knew who wanted his attention even before hearing the words whispered in his ear from behind.
“Let me tell you something, boy. The best part of me she ever got must have run down her leg or else you would be more of a real man like your father.”
Michael pulled free from the strong grip as he turned to facedown the old man with a hard stare of fiery rage, making his father flinch and take a few backward steps.
Confoundedly bemused by his father’s unexpected rush of fear, Michael snorted out a sarcastic snicker with a lyrical retort. “How you dare to tell me that I’m my father’s son when that was just an accident of birth. I will never be a man like you”
It was the last thing Michael ever said to his father. He never forgave him for the repulsive, vile remarks directed toward his deceased mother, who couldn’t speak on her own behalf—not that she ever said a harsh word to anyone.
Big Mike spent his last hours on earth sulking around the empty baseball stadium on his day off. His job granted him 24/7 access, making the stadium one of his favorite places to go when nobody was there. Oftentimes he would stand on the pitcher’s mound and pretend to be throwing a no-hitter—even though he tried out for catcher—or else he would stand in the batter’s box calling his shot before hitting a game winning grand slam, running the bases with cheers from a roaring crowd in his head and nowhere else.
Today was different, though. He didn’t feel like going through his normal routine. It had nothing to do with the fact the Chicago Cubs were out of the World Series for the first time when the Dodgers came back and won in extra innings. A Dodger fan all his life, the big win should have made him as happy as the rest of the overjoyed fans. But after years of rooting against winning teams, a bitter response to his own failure at stardom, Big Mike could no longer experience the thrill of victory.
The bitter old man had an ax to grind with the whole world. Only today, he focused his sour thoughts on his ungrateful son after receiving a last minute wedding invitation. The big event had been the talk of the town for weeks, and he just got the invitation that morning. The huge insult could mean only one thing. Someone had to twist his son’s arm to get him to send it. The kid had nerve holding a grudge against his old man for something said in the heat of the moment. A good son would have seized the opportunity to mend broken fences by making him a part of the ceremony, letting him give the bride away, instead of that Career Counselor woman. After all, he was the only blood relation and surviving parent. It would be the proper, traditional thing to do, remaining completely oblivious to the fact he never considered marrying Michael’s mother.
Incapable of expressing happiness for his offspring’s good fortune, Big Mike elected to mope about his own lost moment in the spotlight, even if it meant his son would have had to die for him to get it. Smiling at the thought of a dead son, he stepped out onto the pitcher’s mound to ruminate on the fifteen minutes of fame he never had, envisioning a stadium filled with fans in the stands and the players standing on the field with heads bowed in a show of respect for the presumably grief-stricken father.
Like a perversely twisted take on the famous farewell speech given by an ailing Lou Gehrig, Big Mike recited the words he instantly memorized after hearing the news of his son’s tragic accident, and the proposed tribute given to the father of the fallen hero. Displaying no emotion to the news of his lost son, his eyes widened in star-struck anticipation for the time when all eyes would be upon him in unifying sympathy for the bereaved father. The last part he would have to fake, because the best part would come when they let him throw out the first pitch to start the extra innings.
After an imagined introduction praising his years of loyal service to the team (even though everyone pretty much despised him and his morbid attitude) followed by a long, hearty applause in his head, Big Mike held up a hand to quiet the nonexistent, cheering crowd with a self-congratulatory gesture and some humble words. “Thank you, please, no, stop, thank you.” Once the phantom crowd died down in his mind, he recited his egotistically aggrandized oration to a vacant stadium.
“To all the players and fans here tonight, along with everyone watching at home, I would like to thank you for your support on this sad occasion, and to say it has been my honor to be a part of a team with such dedicated fans cheering us on wherever we go through these past victorious years.” After a short pause for more envisioned vigorous handclapping, Big Mike continued.
“While, my boy, Michael, was never much of an athlete, my one regret is that I didn’t try harder to encourage him to play the great game of baseball. If he only listened to his
old man, he might still be here today.” Bowing his head in fake solemn despondency, Big Mike’s words were in stark contrast to his fabricated mood.
“He was odd child, who took more after his mother than his good old dad. I would just like to thank you again for this moment. Somehow, I feel like the luckiest man alive. I will always treasure the memory of this day.”
More hallucinatory acclaim went through Big Mike’s mind as he stood on the mound waving to a roaring crowd giving him a standing ovation, until reality came crashing back down on him as everyone vanished from the vacant stadium. In reality, if anyone had heard his self-aggrandizing speech, the real spectators would have been more appalled than laudatory.
Stepping off the mound, he let out a heavy, dejected sigh as he headed over to the home team’s dugout. Reaching into his back pants pocket, Big Mike pulled out the wedding invitation. He plodded down the three steps of the substructure, scoffing at the fancy gold leaf lettering subscribing what the invitation proclaimed to be:
In Celebration Of A Lifetime Commitment
To Their Eternal Love
You Are Cordially Invited
To Attend The Wedding Ceremony Of
Michael Angel
&
Eve Adams
The thought of his son hailed as some kind of hero gave Big Mike no more pleasure than when given the news his son was still alive. He jealously thought they were going way overboard in giving him the red carpet treatment with a big parade, followed by a grand wedding ceremony at the swankest venue in the country, being presided over by none other than the GAC.
He actually felt like he did when Jacob Rose made them retract the story and cancel the tribute, pissed off. Big Mike dropped the invitation down onto the player’s bench, unzipped his fly, and proceeded to urinate on the formal invite.
He never felt the explosion nor could the investigators find any of his remains after sifting through the debris that once was the Chicago Cubs’ stadium.
3
Falling through a void-less, endless space
Spiraling madly down in a whirling decent
Splash landing into a sea of nothingness
Held down with crushing weight
Crashing waves of water decide fate
Thrashing endlessly until surface breaks
Washed up on barren shore
The vivid colors light the sky
As high-flying birds move on by
Without knowing where or who he was, a nameless man stood on the shoreline of an island in the middle of the ocean with no sign of life or any other land for as far as the eye could see. Scratching at a heavy beard then running his fingers through thick, scraggily hair, the nameless man began walking down the beach in torn and tattered clothes, heading nowhere in particular.
The faint sound of music off in the distance, coming from somewhere down the beachhead, started growing louder, drawing the man closer to it. A synthesized funeral organ playing heavy, foreboding notes slowly became clearer, accompanied by a piano, drums, electric guitar, and a bass. It was a familiar beat the nameless man could not put a finger on, but he decided not to be too hard on himself for not remembering the name of a song, when he didn’t know his own.
Without realizing it, the sandy beach he had been walking on turned into a long yellow brick road. The man stopped and looked back to see if he could tell where the road began, but it went on for miles and miles. Upon looking back, a strange man stood in front of the nameless man holding his arms outstretched. The strange man wore a bright yellow suit outlined in flashing neon lights, along with high-platform, ruby-studded shoes, and extra-large, thick plastic frame glasses designed in the shape of sunflowers. Before the nameless man could ask who he was or where he was, the strange man—who seemed vaguely familiar in a paternal, fatherly way—broke into a song and dance with the distant music growing louder and in tune to the oddly worded, yet familiar song.
“When are you gonna go home
Where are you going to land?
You should have stayed on the farm
You should have listened to your old man”
“You know you can’t stay here forever
You didn’t sign up for this
You’re in the present for your friends to waken
You’re much too young to be stuck in the
Blues ohs oohs, ah ah ah, aah aah, ah ah ah, aah
So say goodbye to this yellow brick road
Where the blank face and nameless prowl
You can’t stay stuck in your madhouse
You need to get back to the now
Back to barking out words of truth
While searching for facts in lies
Oh, when you finally decide your future lies beyond this
Yellow brick road oh ooh ooh, ooh ooh ooh oh, ooh oh oh, oh
As the chorus went on, the nameless man sensed something moving around by his feet. He looked down and stood dumbfounded as a scruffy, little dog lifted its leg and began to urinate on his foot. After finishing, the scruffy, little dog looked up and started barking at him, except the barks came out in words.
“I don’t think you are in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. Nor New York City either, dummy.”
Blinking his eyes and shaking his head, the nameless man looked back down, but the scruffy, little dog was gone. And when he looked back up, the strange man was standing in front of him with welcoming, open arms.
When the music was over, the strange man opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead a loud buzzing sound started emanating from deep down in his throat. It grew louder and louder in an increasingly threatening tone that made the nameless man take a few backward steps. Then suddenly, hundreds of bees flew out of the strange man’s mouth in a savage hoard.
Taking off down the yellow brick road with the bees buzzing behind him, the nameless man ran straight out of daylight and into the dark of night with a full moon in place of a sun that never set. After realizing the bees were gone, he felt safe enough to stop running. Then a loud, high-pitched howl cried out in the night, stopping the nameless man in front of a headstone. He knelt down and read the inscription aloud.
“In loving memory of Franklin Harriet, Born June 10th 2155—Died August 8th 2190. I wonder if I’m in there. Maybe, I was allergic to bees.” the nameless man pondered as the ground under his feet started to rumble and shake.
Jumping back as a hand thrust up through the dirt, the nameless man began to shiver with chills running through his entire body. Frozen in place, unable to run, nowhere to go, he just stood there and watched as the dead man, who he presumed to be Franklin Harriet, dug and scraped his way out of the grave. He didn’t know any more about the dead man than he knew about himself, except maybe his name. Then again, what did he have to say to a dead man? Or worse yet, what could a dead man possible have to say to him that was so important he had to dig his way out of his grave to say it?
Much to the nameless man’s surprise, once the dead man rose from the grave, he started to cough and choke for almost a minute before spitting out a piece of a pretzel, which bounced off the nameless man’s chest. The dead man had a pale face, hollow sunken eyes, and wore a dark burial suit. And like the strange man who came before him, he also broke into a song and dance accompanied by some different music, coming from the same faraway place.
“I still don’t know what you’re doing here
Your time is running down a million dead end streets
And every time I thought you made it out,
Your choice was not so sweet
So when you turned around to face me
You should have caught a glimpse
How you’re being deceived by the faker
You’re much too smart to fall for this
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Ch-ch-changes
Can make you sane
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Man you gotta get out of here
Because time can chain you
But you can’
t chain time”
As the dead man repeated the chorus, the nameless man felt the ground start to rumble beneath his feet again. Only this time, the movable earth spread out all around him like an earthquake shaking the ground, until more hands burst through the dirt and soil followed by many more dead people getting up for a moonlight stroll.
In repeating the chorus for a third time, the dead man changed the lyrics to indicate the urgency of his words.
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Ch-ch-changes
Should make you run
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Man, you better get out of here
Because time will chain you
Here forever
The walking dead started moving toward him in their Frankenstein zombie pace, omitting a menacing presence. Reaching out and grabbing at him, the nameless man took off running down the beach with the zombie brigade following in hot pursuit. Then everything suddenly disappeared and faded to black.
The nameless man found himself floating in another space-less, timeless void. Well, maybe not so timeless, because he was sure he could hear the sound of about a hundred ticking clocks floating around in the infinite blackness with him. All at once, every unseen alarm started ringing out its one long song with a deafening sound, causing the nameless man to hold his hands over his ears as he closed his eyes trying to shut out the sound.
When the alarms all stopped at once, he was hovering above a hospital bed set on a beach with everything one would expect to find in a hospital room, except for the walls, ceiling, and flooring. A beautiful, but sad, blonde-haired girl sat next to the bed with an older couple standing by her side. She was holding onto the hand of a comatose patient the nameless man recognized as himself in a real outer body experience.
Just like the other familiar faces the nameless man could not place, the beautiful, sad blonde girl—who he was positive he knew, but even more important, needed to know again—also broke into song. The older couple provided backup vocals as the mysterious music began playing in perfect harmony with the vocalized lyrics.
“Ticking away the moments in time making up your last day
You’re wasting the hours in a lost and forgotten way
Keeping your head buried deep in the ground far from hometown
Hopelessly wondering if someone or something
Will show you the way
Tired of all the sad men lying who never seem to find the sun
The day is long and life is short
You have no time to lose today
Then one day you find, those wasted years you left behind
Never knowing where to run
Your wish may never come
You need to run for the sun and not for the fun
Before you go sinking
Stop wasting your time racing around
As it comes up behind you again
Or you’ll stay the same in a comatose way and grow no older
Darkness in breath can only lead to your death”
After the singer’s powerfully pronounced final note of the re-imagined song, the music stopped along with the songstress. She then began to belt out a harmonically beautiful wailing cry of pain that grew progressively alluring with each agonizingly realized note. The nameless man started to be lulled away into a dreamy trance as the sublimely wordless vocal melody began to subdue his free will, holding him spellbound.
The siren song would have worked its fanciful magic on the nameless man, except he soon realized the lovely blonde girl was not only in excruciating pain, she was also bleeding from her pregnant belly. The harder she sang the more aguish it caused and more blood to flow. As the pitch perfect, harmonic vocals, capable of shattering glass, reached its coda, the blonde girl’s belly was blood-soaked red.
The comatose man sprang upright in bed with his arms outstretched and reaching for the blood-spattered blonde girl. He cried out a single word in unison with the nameless man as he remembered who he was and, more importantly, who she was.
“EVE!”
4
“Michael!”
Eve cried out her dearly beloved’s name as she shoved open the high-arched, wood-carved double doors and barged into the room in a highly flustered, distraught, and worried state.
Stretched out on a sofa relaxing in a black tuxedo, Michael sprang to his feet in alerted urgency. Jacob, Owen, Warren, and Ricardo Danielle—the best man, the two ushers, and the new roommate taking Michael’s place—were also resting in the large, stylishly decorated lounge and brought to their feet in guarded readiness.
“What’s the matter, Eve? What has happened? What is wrong?” Michael asked rushing over, seeing the distress in her eyes.
Holding up halting hands, Eve stopped him a few feet from her. Nervously shivering in a heightened tension it made it difficult for her to articulate complete sentences.
“I…I a…need to…um…talk to you. I have to…um…I need to tell you some…um.”
Michael sensed her need for privacy, knowing Eve to be a normally coolheaded, confident woman not given to last minute, emotional outbursts in stressful situations.
“Gentlemen, can you give us a few minutes? I believe my lovely bride-to-be might be experiencing some butterfly activity in her stomach, and I have this special neck rub remedy to send them away.”
“We understand,” Jacob said as he ushered the others out ahead of him. “This place can be daunting under normal everyday circumstances, no less… Well, you two need your space.”
Backing out of the room and shutting the doors, the thought running through Jacob’s mind had more to do with a conversation he had with his SBP contact on Eve’s behalf, than butterflies in her stomach.
“Eve, honey, I know this is a long way from what we planned, and truthfully, I would have preferred our cozy backyard service to all this ballyhoo,” Michael said as he focused on what he believed to be the route cause behind her recently acquired nervous anxiety. “It has been working on my nerves, too.”
“I too wish things could be simpler,” Eve admitted with a slightly smirking grin at the notion of Michael feeling stressed out, when he was just lounging around as if he didn’t have a care in the world right before she burst in. “I wish everything could be much simpler.”
“I thought I owed it to Jacob and the GAC to accept their gracious offer after everything they did and are doing for me, for us. If it wasn’t for Jacob’s steadfast belief in me being alive, nobody would have been there when I sprouted up out of the water.”
“I fully agree, and I am eternally grateful to Jacob. I can truly appreciate what a great friend he is to you.” Eve acknowledged Jacob’s loyal devotion to friendship.
“I just had no idea how far they would go.” Michael said. “The parade was an unmerited, excessive spectacle to begin with, so I understand if you are feeling a bit overwhelmed.”
Managing to take a short detour from her sad emotions, Eve reminisced a moment over the recently experienced happier occasion. It filled her with an immense delight to see Michael getting his well-deserved turn in the spotlight, even if he felt undeserving of the honor, which also was what strangely led to her hurried flight to come clean with him.
“I am so proud of you, Michael. If everything ended tomorrow, the fondest memory of my life would be being there with you today for your tribute parade. You deserve all the good things happening in your life. You are a principled and honorable man, and what you do not deserve is someone like me.”
Baffled by Eve’s unwarranted, self-imposed, disparaging remarks, Michael quickly came to her defense retorting her perceived false claims.
“Eve, until I met you the only person left in the world I truly trusted was Jacob. Now there is no one I respect and trust more than I do you. How can you say such things? You are the most honest and honorable person I know.”
Eve burst into tears as she blurted out her sad confession through sobbing cries. “No, I’m not. I am a liar. I have lied to you
about everything. You do not know who I really am. How they matched us. Or the most egregious lie of them all, who you truly are. No one has the right to keep that from you.” Eve paused for what she thought might be a last heartfelt look in his eyes. “The only thing I never lied about is how much I love you.”
Bewildered beyond imagination by Eve’s derogatory admissions of deceptive behavior, Michael requested validation of these incriminating claims.
“I do not understand, lied about what? What do you mean by who you really are? Or who I really am? None of this makes any sense.”
When the moment of truth finally arrived, Eve found herself wishing she could be anywhere else in world as she explained things from the beginning. It is usually a good place to start a story, although beginning at the end is not so bad, either.
5
Mulling about in the lobby, the gathering, unsettled guests were jumping to the same presumptive conclusion of nervous, wedding day jitters. Warren appeared the most overtly disturbed by current events, exchanging words of concern with Owen over the worried condition of their friend’s fiancée.
“I hope everything is okay with Eve. She sure did look upset about something.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure everything will work out fine,” Owen said in a nonchalant, detached manner.
“How can you act so callous when our dear friend’s future happiness is obviously going through a crisis of some great concern to cause his beautiful bride to run across the lobby in her wedding gown only a few hours before the big event?” Warren objected to his longtime companion’s demeanor, accenting his final words with a rising, high-pitched tone.
“Look, there is no sense in getting yourself all worked up over something that may turn out to be nothing.” Owen cautioned his friend in a hushed voice, directing his gaze over to their new roommate lurking nearby, leery to speak freely about sensitive matters in his presence. “Besides, this is Mikey we’re talking about here. No matter what the guy steps in he always comes up smelling sweet, just look at where we are now.”
Warren did have to nod in agreement about Michael’s recent streak of good fortune, giving heed to his friend’s warning as he tried to remain inconspicuous after following Owen’s line of sight trailing Ricardo moving about the room.
“Now that Jacob is also leaving, you and I have to be careful not to attract attention to ourselves. We are the ones left vulnerable and out in the open with a SBP Efficiency Expert living among us. Listening and paying attention to everything we say or do, because that is what they do. They all live for their jobs. They program them that way. Probably breed them that way, too. Like sharks, they need to keep constantly moving or else they will die. It’s our dumb luck to get stuck with one.” Getting a selfish feeling creeping up in the back of his mind, Owen sought to justify his comments. “Don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled for Mikey, but his good luck could very well turn out being bad for us if we are not careful.”
“What, are you saying I should have accepted my SBP match that came in last month? Is that what you really want? It might not be too late to change my mind, you know.”
“Stop talking crazy, it’s not your fault or anybody else’s, just dumb luck is all.”
While Warren and Owen discussed their domestic upheaval brought on by absent friends, Jacob was talking to the girl Eve brushed by earlier, who just so happened to play a part in the current discourse affecting his ex-roommates lives. Considering, the GAC handpicked her to be Jacob’s SBP mate as payment for the special favor owed.
The introduction of Hanna Scott knowingly and unwittingly affected the lives of everyone in Jacob’s social circle. The tall, slender twenty-two year old, with shoulder-length auburn hair, rich, full lips, and a bright, friendly smile, concealed a deep, lurking intensity underscoring a shrewd intelligence kept hidden behind perceptively knowing green eyes.
“What’s the matter, Jacob? Your old roommate’s bride seems really upset about something.” Hanna asked, illustrating a heartfelt compassion.
“I’m not sure, probably just nerves.” Jacob replied in part truth. He did not want to lie to someone he had become very close to in the short time since being matched, also because she seemed to be able to tell if he was holding something back, which she attributed it to an occupational trait of a cautious journalist. He felt she could see right through him like no one else ever could, except maybe the GAC. It was one of the things he liked about her, making her all the more attractive to him.
She could sense him holding something back. Not that he had a foreknowledge of their situation, other than being privy to some proprietary information relating to Eve’s monthly checkup that might shed some light on the situation.
The strange thing about the conversation he had with his SBP contact when he called on Eve’s behalf, according to her last exam she was no longer a virgin. He believed it to be the reason she was in there now, confessing to some youthful indiscretion with an eleventh hour plea for forgiveness.
Jacob figured if Michael was willing to forgive her for whatever there might be to forgive, it wouldn’t be his place to pass judgment or say anything to spoil their relationship, even if it did leave him slightly suspicious of her. He found himself gaining a new perspective and a better understanding of the sexually desirous nature of human beings, especially after feeling himself come alive in a way he never expected. Like Michael, he never gave much thought to love or marriage. But once Hanna entered his world, she woke something up inside him he never knew existed. Embarrassed to admit it, particularly to Michael, Jacob and Hanna also decided to wait until after getting married before experiencing coital bliss.
Still a true believer and forever loyal to the GAC, who he looked upon more like a father than a mentor, Jacob began to see the need for some flexibility in the Selected Breeding Program. A less stringent process might have prevented the current rise of violent protests by people too frustrated with results gained by passive resistance.
The AFW made it known they would start targeting prominent figures, instead of famous places, if their demands of absolute free will were not met within a reasonable timeframe. While he did not agree with their methods (whoever deserved the credit), Jacob understood their argument. When originally established, the SBP system needed to apply to the entire population without exception, so they could survive in the devastated world. Throughout mankind’s history, it had always been easier to control the will of the people when they were destitute and had nothing left to lose. But once the people got what they needed, they went after what they wanted.
Jacob started to feel the need for strict regulations on sexuality and procreation was no longer necessary since we evolved into a superior species over our intellectually primitive thinking ancestors. We stopped suffering from the brainwashing stimuli fed us with advertising, media, movies, music, and television always telling us if we want to find happiness we needed to be filthy rich, sexually potent, and desirously wanted.
Not that Jacob believed the SBP system antiquated or flawed in any way. Considering, dating services were the most popular way for people to meet and stay together by the 21st century. The public just needed to have more freedom to choose when, who, and why they might want to have sex and to what purpose.
Warren gazed over at the two double doors wishing whatever was troubling the young couple that they would hurry and make up already.
“Hey, guys. Don’t worry about a thing. I bet they are in there right now working it all out. The folks down at the SBP have a great track record for matching the right people together.” Ricardo said slapping Owen on the back while putting his arm around Warren’s shoulder in an artificial brotherly show of support. “So tell you what I am going to do, Warren. Just to make sure there are no bugs in the system, I am personally going to look into what went wrong with your selected partner last month.”
Owen and Warren weren’t buying it.
“I mean, just think, what are the odds of two guys living in the
same apartment being matched to someone totally incompatible? It must be astronomical, especially since the SBP has over a ninety-seven percent success rate. There must be a glitch in the system. I mean, what else could it be, fellows?”
6
Back in the parlor, Michael sat blank-faced and bewildered, not knowing what to say or where to begin after everything Eve just told him. So when Eve broke the silence, he just responded honestly.
“Do you hate me now?”
“I love you more than ever.”
Eve’s perplexed expression signified further explanation would be necessary for her fully grasp his meaning.
“I could never hate you. How could I hate someone willing to give so much to a cause that is not hers? After everything they put you through, everything I put you through, how can you ask me that? How could I hate someone I love more than life itself?”
Sitting with Michael on the same sofa he was lounging on when she came rushing in, Eve felt a weight equal to what the mighty Atlas bore on his shoulders lift off hers, replaced with an optimistically hopeful outlook indicating maybe, just maybe, everything might work out fine.
“I am so glad to hear you say that, even if I’m not sure why you would.” Eve replied with a bit of skepticism directed at the reasoning behind his words, but not the sincerity of their meaning, adding what she thought to be conclusively contrary testimony to his statement of devotion. “But I have been lying to you since the day we met.”
Positioned on the edge of the sofa, sitting at a slight angle facing each other, Michael reached over and placed his hands on top of her cringing fingers clutching at the sheer white gown covering her knees.
“I see how hard this has been on you. So, if there is anyone I should be angry with, it is the leaders of the FWF for putting you in an impossible situation. I can only imagine the added pressure they were putting on you to conceive as quickly as you could. Then after moving into our new home, I go make things harder by leaving on a trip that I almost didn’t make it back from, and to top it off, ask you if we could wait until we get married. It would be enough to break anyone’s spirit. No, Eve, my ordeal down in the dark, pales in comparison to the one you have been going through up here in the light.”
“You cannot let those things bother you. I never planned on following their directives anyway. I knew one day I would try to cleanse myself of the duplicitous odor of deception, but always kept a hopeful heart there might be a slight possibility you would still want me afterwards.”
“That is why you are not the liar you believe yourself to be. Otherwise, you would have had no problem going along with their dishonest plan. I always thought there was something fundamentally wrong with suppressing anyone’s free will for sake of a greater good. It never did sound like something the Prophet Warrior would have taught. I guess it is the same for every highly praised wise man not around to defend the meaning their words. Someone can come along and deliberately or ignorantly misinterpret their message and twist it around until it supports their selfishly misguided ends.”
“Rationalization justification working at its finest,” Eve stated frankly.
“It is a pervasively addictive condition ingrained in our DNA. After all, we are only human, no matter how superior a society we build or intelligent we get. Which is why I can understand the paranoid fear of the FWF leaders, I just cannot condone the actions of this new fringe group calling itself the AFW, whether connected or not.”
“They are not. That much I know is true. In fact, from what I understand, the FWF leaders are more baffled by the existence of the AFW than anyone.” Eve defended the rebel alliance, adding after a relevant thought popped into her head. “The FWF had nothing to do with the death of your father.”
“Truthfully, I do not know if it would have bothered me if they did. In a weird way, I almost feel lucky knowing he won’t be around to do or say anything to spoil the memory of our special day.” Michael said without disguising his scornful disdain.
Putting aside the main reason for her impulsive, spur-of-the-moment conversation, Eve diverted the discussion away from covert missions led by rebel forces attempting to reveal a life altering conspiracy that could destroy their brave new world, to a dialogue more in relation to paternal inadequacies.
“Michael, if I had known how deep your resentment went, I would never have insisted on you inviting him. What on earth did your father do to make you despise him so much? Knowing you like I do, you must have just cause.”
“He is not worth discussing. I never looked upon him as a father, just a planted seed.” Michael paused a moment, cleverly grinning at a thought he knew she would comprehend the meaning of. “A very wise, beautiful young woman once told me our strength does not necessarily come from a biological parent, especially if they were never meant for the awesome responsibility. Of course, it does help if you come from good stock to stir in some nourishing ingredients like a strong moral fiber and a good-natured personality, all of which I inherited strictly from my mother.
“It is nice to know you were listening. So have you become more comfortable with the concept of fatherhood? I know you would provide many of those special ingredients.”
“You could say I have come around to a different point of view. Because no matter who you are or where you are born, your only true family are those people who love you unconditionally, who stand by your side through thick and thin, who would fight until their last breath to save you, and most of all, they are first person you see when waking up from a coma.”
Eve nearly burst out crying again, trying to suppress the odd emotional response of sprouting waterworks when happy, which were much better than the whimpers of guilt-ridden sadness she spilled earlier. Michael could not bear seeing teardrops of any kind trickle down her cheeks and decided to hold them back with an embracing, tender kiss.
Their passion began to overpower them once more, only this time there was no turning back. With no more obstacles in the way, they freely gave in to their desire for carnal pleasure. It did not matter to them where they were or what they were wearing. Nor did they give any thought to when expected to be in roles of considerable importance to the main festivities. Because to them, there was nothing more imperative than where they were and what they were doing, and no one was going to put the cork back in that genie’s bottle.
“Damn stupid dress,” Eve cursed her lovely gown, pulling at it without a care for the condition it needed to be in just a short time from then. The only urgent business weighing on Eve’s mind was finding a way for her to get out or a way for him to get in.
It was not a romantic candlelit dinner moment, or a cozy, warm bed they were craving. It did not need to be. Because it was pure sexual gratification being aggressively sought after and found in open, loving arms. Tangled, hot, sweaty sex was their only concern. The absolutely satisfying, climatically orgasmic experience would soon become a treasured memory, forever reminding them of the strong bond they shared at a rather inconvenient place and time. That’s what true love was, a spontaneously earth-shattering, unforgettably uninhibited affair.
Halfway out with him halfway in, Eve and Michael struggled through the bulky gown, jockeying for position and proximity, until Michael successfully navigated his way through the frilly garment with pants and shorts pulled down below his knees as they teetered precariously on the edge of the sofa. The movement of motion built up momentum as elbows, knees, and heads banged against the wooden sofa frame and the wall behind it. Michael and Eve were more concerned with continuously hitting the magically sensual mark, than with being comfortable.
Coming to simultaneously climatic crescendos of harmony, Michael’s and Eve’s unstable setting, combined with their hard driving thrusts, upset the delicate balance required by their tenuous position as they tumbled off the sofa in momentously conjoined ecstasy. Landing on the floor with a heavy thud, Eve and Michael laughed at their antics as they tried to regain perspective of their surroundings.
Knowing they were short on time, Eve had to ask one playfully clarifying question.
“So how is my brave Prophet Warrior feeling now?”
Hit with the power of a lightning bolt strike, the newly revealed knowledge finally struck home like one of those blazing arrows from the sky, sending an electrical current circuiting through the synapses of his mind. A heavy knock on the door, followed by Jacob’s voice, brought him back to reality, forcing Michael to come to his senses more quickly than expected.
“Hey, guys. I thought you ought to know, a hostess came by and informed us the ceremony is scheduled to begin in twenty minutes.”
The muffled sounds of embarrassing laughter caught Jacob off guard, quickly followed by an audible response.
“We will be ready in a couple of minutes,” Michael called out as they hurriedly fumbled around getting bride and groom presentable.
7
Las Vegas had become a very different place compared to what it used to be. Many of the old casinos left structurally sound were converted for other uses, such as; sound stages for film production, concerts, plays, television programs, sporting events, and big celebration halls. Whereas, Sin City was originally built for those seeking to indulge in shameful and lewd pleasurable exploits in form of legalized gambling and prostitution, far away from the prying eyes of judgmental puritans, Vegas also came to be known as the premiere entertainment capital on the planet for world championship boxing, musical extravaganzas with big name crooners and divas, along with top of the chart bands. During reconstruction, they decided to preserve the heart of the city and leave the sin in the past were it belonged. Gone were the excesses of wealth, along with wasting natural resources on the glamor, glitter, and gloss of flashing neon lights. Instead, they diverted the saved energy to more practical uses, although, air conditioning was still deemed a necessary evil.
The seventy-eight degree Fahrenheit temperature was about as fall-like condition as it got out in the dessert, comfortably well suited for a wedding.
When the time finally came, Eve found herself walking down the long, empty reflecting pool adorning the front of Caesar’s Palace on the warm evening in late October. Passing under a high-arching rainbow fountain canopy flowing over her head the entire way to the altar, the bride walked down the aisle with Jean escorting her to the waiting groom. Sprouting out of the ground from alternating sides of the empty pool, interweaved with corresponding colored lights on the opposite side, the elaborately decorative structure was meticulously calculated and measured to the correct velocity and pitch to form the exquisitely designed tunnel of love.
Under a full moon and starry sky, the colors of the rainbow (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet) arched over her head giving the bride a luminescent glow as she made her way to the altar. The complimentary remarks coming from the female guests in the stadium bleachers setup on both sides of the elaborate structure flowed as freely as the sprouting water.
“Oh my, have you ever seen anything so beautifully crafted.”
“It is a magnificent sight to behold. I only wish I can have a wedding this lovely.”
“It is breathtaking. What is that song they are playing?”
“I don’t know, but I just love their choice. It fits the occasion, perfectly.”
“The bride has an absolutely radiant glow about her.”
“She might be expecting.”
The bleacher guests weren’t the only ones commenting on the bride’s bright, rosy complexion. The maid of honor also noted the change, giving the bridesmaids a much-anticipated explanation about the commotion before the service began.
“And to think that wonderful rainbow fountain caused Eve’s last minute panic,” Jackie told Kim, Bridget, and Amanda in a hushed voice while standing off to the side in their appointed places in support of the bride.
“Why? What do you mean?” Kim asked as the others eagerly tried to look inconspicuous.
“She was struck with a frightful worry the cascading water might bring back repressed memories in Michael about nearly drowning,” Jackie explained the reason Eve gave with a quick thought off the top of her head, aided by a subconscious memory of a conversation the girls were having about the fountain right before she ran out.
“What did he say when she told him?” Bridget asked.
Jackie let out a light girlish giggle. “She said she felt silly after he explained it wasn’t him walking down the aisle, so it wouldn’t be a problem as long as she was fine with it.”
The poignant words of John Lennon’s beautiful ballad, Imagine, came to an end as Eve reached the altar, forcing the ladies gossip club to adjourn to the business at hand. As the GAC was about to start the service, a shooting star blazed across the sky bringing on a series of oohs and aahs coming from the bleacher guests, while everyone up at the altar took a moment to catch their breath after the pleasant, unexpected gift from the celestial firmament.
“Friends and citizens of New America,” the GAC began the service with the cordial, warmhearted welcoming of a devoted statesman. “We have gathered here today to celebrate this very special day in honor of love, marriage, and prosperity for our nation’s future. While this cherished union was not brought together by old, traditional ways of courtship, I do not believe a truer love could have ever blossomed.”
The GAC paused a moment as the maid of honor and the best man stepped up behind the bride and groom, respectively. They each took out a gold wedding ring in preparation to hand them to their perspective charges when the time came.
“Michael and Eve, by your own free will you are here today to take this pledge of a lifetime commitment to honor, love, and respect each other’s needs, wants, and desires. To which, the bride and groom informed me before the service began they revised their vows and shall now recite them to each other for their willing acceptance.
“Michael, do you promise not to take so many chances risking your life in pursuit of a higher knowledge?” Eve asked, adding. “Because your great sacrifice for a worthy cause would come at an unimaginably dreadful cost for me to bear.”
“Eve, do you promise not to worry so much about your husband’s work and to take solace in knowing his guardian angel and best man has also sworn to protect him from harm by constantly reminding him to watch his step?” Grinning at his next thought, Michael finished with his rewritten vows for Eve. “Also be willing to spend our honeymoon any place other than the beach or a lake or any body of water aside from a hot tub.”
Unable to suppress his jovial response, the GAC stopped the ceremony for a few seconds as he and everyone else found humor from their playfully rendered commitment to each other’s well-being. Once everyone regained their composure, the GAC gave affirming nods to the best man and the maid of honor to present the couple with their wedding rings. Handing him the ring, Jacob gave Michael a good-humored smile, indicating thanks for his inclusion in the kind words, as Jackie handed Eve her ring.
“Eve and Michael with these rings you both vow before the world and everyone here your promise to love each other for today and forever tomorrow.”
“Whatever may come,” they stated in unifying confirmation in place of I do.
“Now by the power of authority vested in me by our great nation, I am honored to proudly pronounce you man and wife. Well go ahead, give her a big kiss.”
As the newlyweds pressed their lips together, fireworks started going off in the background in a spectacular display of colored lights sparkling in the night with the television cameras capturing every second for prosperity.
Breaking from their kiss, the newlyweds gazed up at the lightshow, but something caught Eve’s attention out of the corner of her eye. While everyone looked skyward, Jean appeared to be lost in heavy thought. Eve deduced from her sad facial expression what was troubling her dear friend, even though Jean put on a brave face and smiled back after noticing Eve’s observant look. It was the one thing left bothering her, leaving the only sour note on the day as th
e man Eve thought of as more of a father figure than a mentor could not attend the festivities.
After the stadium bombing that killed Michael’s father, someone in the FWF offered up Max as a scapegoat. Unfortunately, he fit the bill all too well. More or less a rogue operative who called his own shots, working independent of the other members of the rebel group, Max was out of favor with the FWF for bringing in Eve. The cloud of suspicion falling on Max became enough for him to go into hiding or risk being indeterminately detained by special investigators assigned to the case and sent to question him about his affiliation with undesirable characters. He figured it would be better if he weren’t around to answer their questions.
8
Larry Barbra was never a famous person or considered a man of great importance for any part of his life, except its end. A beloved husband, father, grandfather, and even a great grandfather since last spring, quite the opposite man from Michael’s father, yet connected by their deaths as martyrs for a greater cause.
On the morning after the wedding, Larry showed up early for work in his usual cheerful, whistling good mood. A real poster child for the society of happy, jolly people content with their lives (if such an organization ever existed), Larry not only enjoyed his life, but his job as well. The retired sixty-eight year old used to work in the Department of Allocations keeping inventory records and balance sheets in order and correctly calculated for almost twenty years. This didn’t mean he wasn’t the same jolly fellow taking pleasure in doing a good job he had always been. Only now, his thick red beard had turned a frosty grey. After retiring, he wanted to keep busy working from his own personal sense of duty to remain a useful part of society to the day he died. Larry’s only condition of employment was he had to work outdoors.
Watching the parade and wedding on television last night with his whole family gathered around, his wife, Martha, was nearly in tears over how beautiful everything looked, especially the rainbow fountain centerpiece. So he promised her at work the next day he would take a picture of himself standing in front of the casino entrance where they held the big event. Larry was content with driving his route in an electric haul cart, cleaning up the parking lot and emptying the garbage cans. He stopped by a specific garbage can near the exit gate he knew he would be by the next day after seeing the GAC passing it on the way out of the casino. It might have seemed like a little thing to most, but Larry was a loyal New American, proud to be living in a country much different from the past, where true equality and harmony finally existed among every citizen and not just the lucky few.
Going through his entire life with this rosy outlook, Larry felt whatever evil there was in this world would never touch him, always having a special aura protecting him from harm. Snapping a quick picture of himself standing in front of the garbage can, he thought it may not be a big, splashy fountain, but he planned to treasure the memory for the rest of his life.
Larry never felt the blast that practically cut him in half upon lifting the lid off the can.
###
The End of
Bright Night Past Yesterday
Book One of Forever Tomorrow
Volume One of The Book of Tomorrows
Also from Alexander Ulysses Thor:
Bright Night Past Yesterday: Book One of Forever Tomorrow, Volume One of The Book of Tomorrows Page 9
