June 1, 2021 — The Sold Out Country
It did not matter what it took to erase the presence of the most indecent man this country had ever had as president but we did it. I think my new friends would have given up as many freedoms as possible to rid the man who said he was a Christian and believed in the rights of life so I could have my food and water today.
In college I learned that sharing the wealth was more important than actually having the drive and desire to go out and make it happen for myself or my family. I grew up with an abusive dad and then a drunk mother after she kicked him to the curb. I was taught that Republicans were the reason why my life was so horrible.
“I am so scared to think what could have happened if we had allowed the real vote to have come out. Thank, well, I don’t believe in God so I have no one to thank but the ideology I was sold on. We must share all things and become equal to each other if we are going to have a future. If the voting had been 100% legal, I am sure the tanks and the door to door searching would have begun. I would have to go to work tomorrow to eat and live and be struggling with addiction because the Republicans won.”
“You honestly believe you did the right thing?” the other man said. He was eating his bowl of oatmeal and sipping his coffee. He was just making conversation between bites.
“We had to march everywhere and be on the streets all the time if we were going to get anywhere. We were pepper sprayed and hosed down in some cities but we made a difference. Everyone wanted his head on a platter,” I replied.
“Why didn’t you just call his office everyday and your senators or congressmen?” the man asked.
“What would that do? We were told that does nothing and the harder we marched and vandalized the more impressed our benefactors would be,” I replied. I started to get angry. We could have been killed. We were denied our rights. We were told all of this was happening and it felt so right.
“Hey why are you getting red in the face. Didn’t you just win? No matter how many votes were actually made for the president, somehow the machines didn’t see them. You won. You cheated an election for the greater good right?” the man asked.
“WE COULD HAVE LOST EVERYTHING?” I said expressing my fears.
The man looked at me and then at others. He stopped eating, picked up his food and then sat down again. He looked at me and asked, “Have you never felt the feeling of doing a job well done? Isn’t that what you worked so hard for these last 12 months?”
I looked at him and wondered why I was so angry. They said the world was against the United States and would do anything to help our cause. They hacked the voting machines, they excluded Republican observers, they lost votes or just made them up and we won. Why didn’t I feel any better?
“I am sorry. I don’t know what is wrong with me today,” I replied.
“Hmm. Have you ever had anyone take something from you that you knew was yours?” he asked.
“Well the president said I was going to lose my medical insurance and-” I said.
“I mean something you actually lost. Taken from you, in front of you, and you could do nothing?” he said cutting me off.
“I lost a job that was rightfully mine. I lost my apartment when the city stopped paying for it. I lost friends when they didn’t conform to my way of thinking,” I said, feeling the loss again as if each one just happened.
“Well then it must feel right to have taken away the due process of electing an official. Now anyone who can hack a machine will be able to win. That must make you happy,” he said.
“It’s not like that,” I said, feeling the heat in my face. “I used my freedom to get all of us to a better place.”
“Who is us? Where are they now? You are eating your meal at a food station. What has cheating gotten you? Where are all the rich kids who marched with you last year?” he asked.
My stomach turned at all the questions. He didn’t have the right anymore to speak his mind. We made sure of that. I straightened my back and looked at him. “They are home I guess,” I replied.
“Not one of them could make a space at their table or give you a place for all your trouble?” he asked.
I was ready for him this time. “Every one of us has a space being readied in segregated blocks of new apartments where we will share the fruits of everyone’s labor!” I cried but kept my voice down.
“You mean like a ghetto,” another man, black, and quite tall was listening and chimed in, “your so called “They” told us that back in the 1960’s. I am still waiting for my share.”
He took a bite and swallowed. I noticed his uniform said “Joe.”
“Back then there was marching, sit ins and killing and those we helped win because they said we would get our fair share just put us in a box and forgot about us except every two years when they wanted our vote. I saw the lines of black folks at the election stations back then and they were very light but if you looked at the voting rolls, everyone voted. Isn’t that something?” Joe said rhetorically, picked up his food, and left the table.
“What did you think was going to happen?” the first man said. He was still here when everyone had left or moved along. “Did all those months of hotels and sharing food and wine with the elitist’s kids bring you anything other than a feeling?”
Now he got up and left as well. I was truly all alone. He was a police officer who made sure everyone behaved. He sat and ate with me even though I spit and swore at his brothers and sisters all year. I began to cry. In a few minutes, a man came over I had never seen before. He wore black pants, a tan almost brown shirt and a red arm band. He handed me a napkin and said, “Come come. Eat up. We are moving all of you unfortunate folks to a new vision for America. You will all be together in a large compound with new houses, a large playground and lots of land to roam in.”
I looked at him and his smile did not meet his eyes. I shivered as if this had played out before. “I am all done. I will go home.”
“Yes go out the back door and follow the others to your new home,” he said as I was led to the door. I followed him and was met by a cadre of others dressed just like him. We walked two blocks to the back of the factory district and down to the railroad yard. I saw hundreds of others. We were all sorted and loaded into boxcars. “What about the promises you made? What about all the-” I screamed but was slapped in the face and pushed into a full rail car. There were slits in the wall so the people could breath. There weren’t just homeless and other street people. I looked into the eyes of strangers in suits holding children. They were scared. They were angry. Someone peed their pants and the stench filled our noses. I looked out the slits to get better air but it didn’t work. I felt the car jolt as it began to move. The train whistle blew and we rolled away.
