The Ward
He was ten years of age when he became a Ward of the State. It was rather simple. All it took was a government bureaucrat’s spur of the moment decision to check the box “reeducate” instead of “deplorable” like his parent’s boxes.
He was a surprise pregnancy resulting in a birth eleven years after his youngest sister. His father finally had a willing companion for wilderness camping and hiking. The last camping memory he had with his dad was a trip they took to Isle Royal National Park, north of Michigan in Lake Superior. Dad had treated him like an adult, let him make the decisions on where to camp, what trails to follow, when to stop and when to eat. It was a month later when the knock at the door changed his life.
Mom and Dad didn’t like how the local public school was politically indoculating the students more and more. Unlike his sisters, he was home schooled. Assassinations, a new President of the United States resulting in violent civil unrest spilling out from the major cities. States “Red Flag” laws were supersede by the new and expand Federal Red Law to deal with the emergency. It was obvious, was the governing logic, that home schooling was an attempt to corrupt young minds and therefore a black mark against the parents. Along with an expired membership in a Second Amendment organization and a neighbor claiming to hear a gun shot was all that was needed for the Officials to come knocking at his parent’s door.
He remembered his Dad kneeling with him to say his prayers before mom had kissed him and tucked him into bed for the night. He remembered having to pee and was having a hard time waking to do so when a shattering noise followed by a loud bang did what his full bladder couldn’t. Gun shots and then foot steps marching throughout the house. A bright strobing light blinding him in the face. Somewhere, way off in the distance his dad’s voice yelling, “REMEMBER THE ALAMO!” It was a week later when he was able to grasp the explained situation that he showed the Superintendent where dad had hid the Enfield and Garrand rifles along with the thirty-aught-six ammunition. “Another terrorist arsenal uncovered” was the headlines for the news cycle along with a quote from the POTUS praising herself on the job she’s doing protecting her citizens.
When he completed elementary school he was allowed to be visited by his sisters for the first time since the separation. The family reunion was awkward for the three of them. Sisters had liberal views but not as far left as their brother’s. The sisters had been out of their parents house and married before their brother became a Ward of the State … with their age differences…they loved him but now that he was an agent of the State? They had their husbands and children to think about. They promised to get together for the Holidays. Instead they exchange political correct holiday cards with promises of maybe a get-together next year.
He was twenty-two years of age when he graduated from college with a Bachelors degree in Electronics Engineering with a minor in cybersecurity. He also graduated as a ROTC Cadet Colonel. Upon graduation he was automatically enlisted in the United States Army as a Second Lieutenant.
His fellow soldiers viewed him as a friendly, competent, dedicated soldier with low tolerance for mismanaged or mishandle assignments by his co-workers. Loyal to the State with no close friends, a loner. He quickly rose in rank.
He was an Army Captain when a brief encounter reminded him of his past. He had stayed after dark to complete a project to his personal high standard. As was his custom he walked to his off base housing. It was only a twenty minute walk which help cleared his head from the day’s work activities and kept him in shape. He had nodded and returned the salute of the gate’s Security Officer without a conscious thought of doing so. Since anyone in uniform was a high risk target he rarely took the same route home. He was half way home when he cleared his head of work and started to think about personal things he had (or should) to do when he got home. “Milk” he thought as he changed his route to a small convenience store five blocks away from his normal routes.
He was a block from the store when the stench hit his nostrils. In this part of the City the homeless were camped out on the sidewalks and curbs. Cardboard boxes, tattered tents and abandon cars for shelters. It amazed him how he could design and build an electronic device, write code or tune a database search for a suspect without hardly any conscious thought but failed to think about avoiding the homeless by buying his milk at the Base’s Commissary. There was no traffic on the street so he decided to abandon trying to walk on the sidewalk to walk down the center of the street. The darkness help because he was almost to the store when a homeless person started towards him. Basic hand-to-hand combat course were mandatory in the military and he had continued to take optional courses when his eligibility allowed. He wasn’t no Rambo but against the homeless he could handle the situation. Defend himself quick and then get away just as quick before he was swarmed was his thinking as he continued towards the store and the homeless person walking towards him.
“Money or a sharp weapon”. He thought as they drew closer. “Two more steps and we’ll know…”. The homeless person veered away from him before whispering, “Remember the Alamo.”
A battle cry used by rag tag Texans in their struggle for independence from an overwhelming Mexican force. Like today where the Three Percenters and a few Deplorables were fighting every way they could to bring their Republic back from an overwhelming communist governments. A story that Dad repeated told him, the last time had been when they had camped on Isle Royal. He turned to look at the back of the homeless person ambling away from him. “Dad was dead. Even if it wasn’t he’d be seventy-nine years old next month. And that person walked like a much younger person.” In a few seconds the homeless person disappeared into the night’s shadows. He turned back towards the store. He wasn’t alone after all. He knew it was time to go back to Royal National Park and dig up the caches and relocate them one at a time. He had already mentally prepared new cache locations for the firearms and ammo in the city and even a few on the base. Modern firearms, not the throw aways he had shown the Government years ago.
With his knowledge on how they operated he could avoid suspicion for a long time. Continue to “brown nose” during the day and a Patriot during off hours. The Mayor then the Base Commander or the other way around would be the first public assassination. Then work his way down between public officials and base officers that were traitors to their oath to the United States Constitution too.
The End
