October 01, 2007

Chapter 2 - The Promise

A fly buzzed frantically against the barred, wire reinforced window, giving a hint of life to the otherwise oppressive atmosphere of the large classroom. It reminded Jason of the flies that always hung around the barn when he was a kid and, of course, he couldn't help but go on to remember his last few moments at home only a few days before he had come to this place. He felt anew the fear and pain of that awful night when the "teachers" had taken him from his weeping parents, forcing him into a windowless black van in his pajamas and bare feet. He vividly recalled the black garbed policemen all around them, each with a gun pointed at his helpless family.

Remembering was terrible, but he rejected utterly the solution the "teachers" had given him in the little pink pill they put in his mouth each morning. The "counselor" had talked to him for a long time about how much easier it would be for him if he would take the medicine and learn to forget about all of the unpleasant things; how his life would be so much better if he would only cooperate and accept what they were doing to help him. Jason knew that he had been taken away from his family because they refused to make him take that pill which would make him forgetful and compliant. He had never believed the counselor for a minute, but they had forced him to take it then and he had almost forgotten his former life, until just five years ago.

He remembered his friend Bill. The short red haired boy had been easy to spot anywhere, and even though they had not been able to play and talk as they would have done at home, Bill had been the only other person who had understood how he felt. They had agreed that the dull expression on the faces of the other 10 and 12 year old boys around them was proof that something was badly wrong at the pod school. They remembered the energy and laughter that had filled their lives; boys and girls working happily together in small groups. They had whispered and joked, yet paid careful attention to the teachers they had loved and respected. Their teachers had been their parents then, and learning had been fun.

Bill had shown Jason how to hold the terrible pill in his teeth until he could spit it out without being seen by the teachers. He had also made sure Jason understood how important it was for him to watch the other boys carefully and mimic them so the teachers wouldn't know he wasn't swallowing the drug. They had seen one boy held down and given something with a needle after refusing to take it, and he had never been seen again.

Then, one day last year, Bill had disappeared too and Jason had never dared to mention his name to anyone else. The first few days had been filled with sick dread, but he had finally come to hope that his friend had just been moved to some other place and that he would be able to see him again someday. Seeing his friend again had been his only hope for a long time.

Jason turned back to his Spanish lesson, and the black dot suddenly appeared on the screen. He clicked onto it and the tiny window blinked open. He read the short bit of text: "You have friends who are working to help you. Be prepared." The window closed suddenly as always, but the words had been burned into his consciousness. He couldn't suppress a sharp intake of breath.

"Help him?" "Be prepared?" What do I do? His mind was in a whirlwind, but he remembered his danger in time and looked around the room without moving his head. Good. Nobody seemed to have noticed anything. He really didn't want to attract attention now, but the excitement was almost too much for him to contain.

How? When? The mental questions were like razors. How could anyone get past all these teachers and take him out? How could he get ready for something he could not understand or even imagine? He knew he couldn't do anything but wait and take whatever opportunity came.

Slowly, trying hard to concentrate on the lesson, he finished the Spanish conversation assignment and got ready for the next teacher to come in. He remembered that the students used to go to different rooms for their classes, but after they started doing all of their lessons on the computer it was much easier for the teachers to come and go instead.

Eventually, after another "lesson" without challenge or much apparent purpose, Jason shuffled out with his classmates to the lunch room and sat in his assigned place. The "soybutter" sandwich was sticky and tasteless, but he knew he'd better eat it because there was nothing else except the equally insipid soy "milk" and a small apple. He thought longingly about his family and the real food of his childhood. With a strength he had not known he possessed, he dared to hope that the black dot could somehow lead him home once again.

Subsequent stories will attempt to develop the characters introduced here and explore some of the things that could so easily happen with total government control of our children.

The Price of Liberty has not published much fiction, but this little story grew out of my reaction to reading one of the dozens of stories in the news about the growing "zero tolerance" for almost everything in our government run schools. This is a nightmare that could be coming to a community near you... soon.. in some form or another. This could be the start of several short stories or, perhaps, even a book. Please let me know what you think of it. Susan Callaway, Editor

Chapter 1