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Post by newburydave on Dec 25, 2009 9:47:17 GMT -5
I realize we have many different political and social viewpoints represented here on the Anomaly so I thought I'd throw this out and see what kind of input I get.
I was imagineering about what kind of resolution might work it's way out of the current ah. . . political stress in Washington. Candidly, I fear that we are headed for another Civil War here in America.
While I was musing this story line occurred to me, it's really more of a prose outline for a larger work. Please give it a read and let me know what you think.
Maybe you could write a few of the chapters to fill in the outline.
Write on Bro's and Sis'
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Post by newburydave on Dec 25, 2009 9:51:01 GMT -5
“The S.O.N. Conspiracy” v,02 By Newburydave Wordcount: 2,516
It all started at two AM in the morning at the Buckhorn plaza truck stop on Route 80 in Pennsylvania.
Bernie Phillips was running back west to some transfer operation in Ohio, that he'd never heard of before, to pick up his next load. He walked into the truckers’ dining room at Buckhorn and spotted his buddy Clint Johnson.
"Hey you ole squinty eyed cowboy, you still pushin' loads for Rayburn?"
Clint looked up from his plate of hash and eggs.
"It beats runnin' empty half the time. How you doin' Bernie?"
"Well I'm survivin'. Just ran a load in to the Price Chopper warehouse south of Albany. Nothin' goin' west though. This economy really rots."
Bernie slid into the bench opposite Clint. He waved to the waitress.
"Yeah, and diesel isn't comin' down any time soon either, I hear."
"Tell me about it. Sometimes I don't like bein' independent. Clarisse likes the fact that I can get home more that you long haul route guys but every empty run comes right outa my pocket. When’s the last time you saw Melinda buddy."
Clint made a face.
“About a month ago. But I’ll be getting’ home next week after I get this load out to Nebraska. I’m takin’ a week and stoppin’ in Indiana on the way back east.”
The waitress came and Bernie ordered some pie and coffee.
“So what d’ya think of those bozos in Washington Clint. About time for Dirty Harry to go shoot that place up eh?”
“Yeah, that Cap-n-Trade is goin’ to hit Rayburn pretty hard. I dunno how you independents are gonna survive. And that health care mess. . . “
“Those guys all oughta be impeached or something. It’s obvious they’re not listenin’ to those of us who voted ‘em into office.”
“Yeah, that guy North from Nebraska is a pretty slick snake isn’t he. I wish I could get that kind of sweetheart deal personally.”
The waitress slid Bernie’s pie onto the table and put down his coffee.
“You guys want to know what really stinks about that?”
The two truckers looked up at her.
“That couple of billion the snakes in charge of the Congress gave away to get the votes is comin’ right out of my paycheck, and yours too. I can hardly pay my rent and now those rich thieves in congress are gonna’ take a bigger bite out of me with their taxes. It ain’t right, I wish we could do sumpthin!”
“You got that right Suzie. If I was on a long haul run like Clint here I think I might not be available to run loads into Nebraska anymore.”
“. . . Or Louisiana or Florida neither.” Clint added.
Suzie cocked her head at the two truckers.
“Can you do that guys? I mean, Clint, wouldn’t you get in trouble with Rayburn or sumpthin’? And Bernie, how would you pay your bills and the mortgage on your rig if you start turnin’ down loads?”
The two truckers looked at each other across the table. Then Bernie shrugged.
“It’s not like I’ll be able to stay afloat when all them new taxes kick in; and with the new carbon tax I’ll be losin’ money on every load I haul. I hear they’ve got a law in committee to cap freight rates so people won’t notice the effects of their Cap-n-Tax bill. I’ve really got nothin’ ta lose Suzie.”
Bernie gazed across the table at Clint.
“It’s the company drivers like Clint that have a stake to lose. Rayburn’ll probably cut some kinda’ deal with Washington to keep afloat. Besides the Teamsters’d be down on you like a ton of bricks if you tried to pull any kind of wildcat action, wouldn’t they Clint?”
Clint returned Bernie’s gaze. Bernie could see the calculations running behind his buddy’s eyes. Then Clint snorted.
“Yeah,cut a deal! Ya’ know what they’ll probably do, they’ll cut our comp to the bone. They’ll push us to drive more hours, cover more miles in the same time and dock us when we don’t meet their new “standards”. If we complain to the stewards the Teamsters are so in bed with the boys in Washington that they won’t do a thing for us. I really don’t have too much more to lose than you do Bernie.”
The three of them stood and sat for a long minute swapping glances while the realization sunk in. Clint spoke first.
“I think if we don’t do something to save our nation now we won’t have anything left come next summer. I think I’m not goin’ to be able to haul any more loads to Nebraska while those snakes still run Washington.”
Bernie chuckled. He felt a bit shaken by his buddy’s bluntness.
“Save our nation, huh? That has a ring to it Clint. Callin’ somebody an old SON could become a recognition sign or somethin’”
“You, guys are crazy! You can’t stand up to the government.”
Bernie looked up at Suzie.
“How much food you got in your storage freezer and pantry Suz?”
She looked down at Bernie.
“Oh, enough for two maybe three days, but we get new shipments every day. You know that Bernie, why?”
“How do those shipments come babe?”
“By truck; and don’t babe me or I’ll call Clarisse and tell her you’re getting’ fresh.”
Bernie raised his hands in self defense. Suzie had gotten to know Clarisse back before kids when his wife still team drove with him.
“Whoa, whoa, I didn’t mean anything by it Suz. It’s just if we’re gonna’ be co-consipritaors I thought - -“
“Well don’t think! Clarisse’s my friend and you aren’t gonna do anything to hurt her or I’ll. . .”
The substance of what he’d just said dawned on her.
“. . .By truck; yeah that’s how everything comes in. So if you guys don’t deliver- -“
“- -Not even the fat cats in D.C. eat. You got it honey; an’ don’t get all prickly on me about that Suz, Okay.”
Bernie and Clint could see the wheels turning in Suzie’s eyes. She reached some kind of conclusion. A big smile spread across her face.
“Okay old SONs. I think we’ve got a conspiracy to spread. I wonder if we can really do it?”
Clint started to smile too.
“Hey it was a bunch of dirt farmers like my Pa who started the Revolution. You know; “By the rude bridge that arched the flood, where once the embattled farmer stood, and fired the shot - -“
“Okay, Okay we get the picture buddy. Spare us the epic poetry. So how are we gonna organize this thing; . . . Old Son?”
To anyone looking on from the outside it looked like three old friends, in the fraternity of the road, sharing some memories. But this chance encounter started gathering form to become an earthquake.
******
The Wal-Mart logistics chief in the Clearwater store called his regional distribution center at four AM.
“Fred? Yeah this is Joe here in the Clearwater store. I’ve been waiting with my crew for two hours, where are the trucks with tonight’s shipments?”
Joe waited. His anger turned to surprise as he listened to the answer.
“What do you mean you don’t have any drivers to haul loads into Florida? Those are our trucks, our drivers, not a bunch of independent deadheads like out in Nebraska. . . They all threatened to Quit? But they can’t do that, can they?”
On the other end of the call Fred held the earpiece away from his ear while Joe vented.
“Joe calm down. Look old Son I can’t fire the whole group of drivers I’ve got working for me. Word is out on the street that nobody with an A class CDL is going to come to work for us if we break the SON network. Call your manager and figure out how you’re going to mange. The head shed in Benton called me and ordered me to go along with the drivers, my hands are tied.”
Fred hung up the phone while Joe kept venting.
*****
Ben North pushed his way through the hubbub in the Senate lunch room. He put his drink and a sandwich down on the small table in the corner of the room and dropped wearily into the seat across from Mary Lac’.
“Ben, you look like you haven’t slept in three days.”
He looked up at her, picked up his sandwich and took a bite.
“I haven’t,” he said around a mouthful of pastrami.
He swallowed.
“Things have been moving so fast with those SON terrorists that I haven’t had time to eat either.”
He took another big bite.
“Did you hear about the recall petition they’ve gotten up against me in Louisiana?”
Ben almost choked on the bite of sandwich. He spluttered and took a drink.
“Recall petition! Louisiana doesn’t have a recall law for senators, does it?”
Mary smiled a sad smile and shook her head.
“My idealistic northern colleague. . . Louisiana doesn’t need a recall law. The way we do things if enough people want something it gets done. We don’t need laws to make it happen. You’re talking about the home state of the Big Easy, Ben. More than one public official who tried to stand on the legalities against the people has wound up as gator food.”
“Speaking of New Orleans Mary, I see the citizens of the Big Easy finally caught one of those SON network bastards and gave him what he deserved.”
Mary’s gaze hardened.
“That trucker the mob caught was trying to make a delivery to one of New Orleans supermarkets. She lives in New Orleans and just signed on with Piggily Wiggly to try to get food in to her neighbors. Those idiots burned the truck and its cargo. The driver is still in intensive care. They don’t know if she’ll live.”
Ben stopped eating and put down his sandwich.
“Oh, I’m sorry Mary. I didn’t know.”
Mary looked like she was going to cry.
“It’s not your fault Ben. The news service ginned it up into a propaganda piece. We sold our collective souls to the devil when we lined up with that bunch of lying leaches.”
She struggled to control her emotions for a long minute.
‘I know the driver Ben. She and I went to high school together. Even back then she was always looking for ways to save the world. Something about that black inner city church she went to I guess.”
“I wonder why it’s always the good folks that get caught in the crossfire Mary.” He pushed the plate with the half eaten sandwich away. Suddenly he wasn’t hungry any more.
“I suppose you heard on the news about the string of “terrorist acts” across Nebraska.”
“Well I saw the news stories Ben. What’s really going on? Did they firebomb your campaign headquarters or was it something else?”
Ben made a wry face.
“Firebomb, yeah right. It’s more like a popular uprising to throw all the Democratic politicians and their party organizations out of the state. My Nebraskans hope that if they do that the trucks will start rolling into Nebraska again.”
“But what about the police - -“
“The police chief of my home town was the VFW commander in charge the 105 mm gun that systematically demolished my campaign headquarters. They borrowed the gun and ammunition for it from the local National Guard post with the Governors blessing. They wanted to send a message.”
Mary stared at him speechless. Then she gathered her wits.
“But surely the President - -“
“- - is scared shitless. He’s used to hit men in the dark of night with total deniability, not military veterans rising up in a group with modern military weapons. More and more state governors are declaring martial law and siding with the SON crowd. Word is the President’s afraid that if he orders the army to get involved they’ll mutiny and go over to the SON conspiracy.”
“What?”
“I heard it from that clown Bowen. The Pentagon is making sounds like it is not backing the current administration until, quote “You civilians sort out who’s actually in charge. We have to feed our soldiers and sailors.””
“The Vice President said that? The Vice President - -“
“- - is a buffoon. How he ever got elected is beyond me. Maybe the President chose him as insurance against assassination. No sane person would bump off the President with him waiting in the wings.”
Ben rubbed his head with both hands.
“Look, I’m sorry for being so testy Mary. If I go back to Nebraska they’ll literally lynch me. My cousin called to tell me that the folks in my home town say I’ve sold out and turned traitor. Even my parish Priest won’t take my phone calls.”
Mary looked shocked.
“Even your priest? I didn’t think they got to do that.”
“Well that new Pope’s encyclical about politicians voting according to Catholic doctrine or you’re out of the church. . . my priest takes the Holy Father’s dictums seriously. He thought I caved in on Abortion, and he wasn’t impressed by the Medicare deal I got from Ryson in exchange.”
“So what are you going to do Ben? At least my Louisianans aren’t out to scalp me, just kick me out of the Senate.”
“Well I may be in disgrace but I do have a conscience. I’m going to vote for the reconsiderations and then kill the Health care bill and Cap in Trade. After that I and my family are going on a junket to Brazil. We’re not coming back until things blow over. That could be a long time Mary, Nebraskans have long memories. Maybe Brazil will give us refugee status. Pelonis gave me some travelling money, you know just in case.”
Mary reached across the table and put her hand on his.
“Ben you can’t just run away like that.”
Ben looked at her. His eyes looked haunted. He pulled his hand out from under hers and folded both hands in his lap.
“Face it Mary. We followed the ones who were trying to seize ultimate power here in the US. But the people are rising. Sometimes I hate Jefferson and his writings about revolution. All those right wing talk show fanatics have been quoting that one about a little revolution being good for the nation now and then.”
Ben dropped his head and stared at his hands in his lap.
“Unless I read the facts completely wrong, our Caesar and his generals just drowned trying to cross their Rubicon. God or Satan help us, I don’t know how many of us will survive.”
*****
“That same day Herod and Pilate became friends, . . .” Lu. 23:12
“The American People are the fiercest people on Earth, once they’re aroused. We’re the only nation that has ever demanded unconditional surrender in modern times. Other nations aren’t like us, that’s why they always underestimate us.” Otavio 2004
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