Anatomy of a Rebellion

Chapter 32

Libertas

In Union, Christmas Eve meant celebrations were aplenty. Percy had never been outside of his house on a Christmas Eve before, so he was a bit shocked to find that every resident seemed to be out in the frozen wasteland rather than inside their toasty homes. Originally he had gone outside just to get away; he needed to clear his mind and there was one particular bench he frequented when he was younger, long before he joined the Army. It was situated on the south side of the only park in town, but it was that park where the majority of Union's townsfolk played. It was as though war never touched their town.

A stage had been set up and a local Nebraskan band played holiday tunes; the deputies teamed up with Warren to hand out gifts to all the people, a display of their generosity; children had snowball fights and built snowmen; the older children played a rough, homegrown football game with Wallace jumping in occasionally, just for the hell of it. Percy wondered if any of his men were there. He spotted Chiang Sun and Skipper sharing a smoke; he was glad to see that despite what had happened the day before, they were on good terms with each other. No one else was visible, but he hadn't exactly wandered through the middle of the party, either.

He had approached from the south with the intent of reaching his bench without distraction. Unfortunately, the bench was already occupied. A deep frown etched itself across his lips when he saw that the girl sitting there was Riane, a Yankees cap atop her head and a scarf around her neck. Too lazy to walk all the way there just to turn around, he went ahead and took a seat next to her. She didn't notice him arrive; or, at least she didn't make a motion to acknowledge him. A sad smile was on her face, her eyes distant but focused on something that Percy could not see.

"Are you an orphan or something? Shouldn't you be with your family right now?" he rudely inquired.

She winced, "That was kind of uncalled for. But if you want to know, I'm divorced and my parents have been dead for a couple of years. What about you?"

She faced him; he stared blankly at her, silent. Then, he reached out, pushed her Yankee hat down over her eyes and asked, "Why do you always wear that hat?"

The change of subject did not go unnoticed. She adjusted the cap and answered, "It reminds me of something."

"What?"

All of these pointless questions seemed so random. Percy was the quiet type and upon viewing his expression, she wondered if he even cared or actually listened to her answers. He looked lifeless and bored, completely disinterested in her story but seemingly obligated to ask. Something about the way he softened his eyes, however, convinced her he was trying to piece together his own state of mind; or, perhaps he was trying to forget something, trying to run away from his own problems.

She treated him to the reason, "It was the World Series, four years ago, Yankees and Giants. The conflict at the border had just started and economic pressures due to the wars in Europe and Asia made everyone really tense. It was like, everyone was certain the end of the world was near. Everyone kept asking, 'Who will nuke who first? Who will invade who next?' Then they turned Texas into a military state, they took our guns from us, and then made the military more powerful than it ever had been before. Some of us thought, 'Well, this is it. This is the end of our country.' Then the riots started in New York. At first, no one was really sure why they were protesting. They just knew they didn't have much food on the table and a lot of young people were being killed in wars no one really felt we belonged in. Then they got organized and powerful.

"The government wanted to shut down the World Series, but feared a strong backlash. When the Series returned to New York for the seventh game, the riots had turned violent. But they couldn't delay the game. Some Senator or something said, 'Baseball must be played to show the world we are still Americans.' So the game went on. All of the rioters had gathered around the stadium, transfixed on the game. The Yankees had to win. They had to restore dignity to New York, they were America's team. I was there for that game, my husband and I, with Jordan and his wife; Jordan's dad and gotten us suite tickets, but we ended up trading them for field seats, just so we could be closer to the action.

"The Yankees had a left fielder, de' Medici, who was born in Italy and constantly had to deal with racist comments thrown his way all season. That night, during roll call, the crowd chanted his name louder than ever before. It was electric. The pitcher was Reyes, a Dominican Republic born champion with record setting numbers, but was shunned by the All-Star game because of his background. When he threw that opening pitch for a strike, the entire stadium rumbled. Finally, he was an American. Finally, he was getting the praise he deserved. For eight innings he allowed not a single man to get past second base. But it was the ninth when he got into trouble.

"He allowed a lead-off triple to the first batter. He walked the next man. The manager came from the dugout. The crowd booed. They booed so loud it sounded like a flat French horn with a jammed key. But when the manager walked back to the dugout and left Reyes on the mound, the crowd cheered. Even outside the stadium, the rioters were roaring for Reyes. He struck out the next batter on three pitches. The following batter cracked a line drive so hard it muzzled every spectator. 'For sure it's gone over that left-field fence,' everyone thought. 'For sure, the Yankees will enter the bottom of the ninth down two runs.' Even if it didn't clear and de' Medici caught it, the man on third was speedy and would probably score, tying the game.

"de' Medici was not a pessimist like us Americans. He knew he was going to catch that ball and he knew he was going to throw it into home, no matter what. His eyes screamed, 'Whatever it takes! For the team!' as he leapt up, scurried up, over that fence. The ball hit his glove so hard the pop echoed throughout all of New York. By the time his feet touched the dirt the runner had already tagged up and was headed for home. Backed by all the hope and desire of every person in America, he rocketed that baseball towards home. A perfect strike; dead in the water that Giants runner was struck down by the game ending tag of the catcher.

"It was pure chaos, but it was positive chaos. The crowd both in the stadium and out went crazy. As de' Medici ran by the stands towards his celebrating teammates, my husband shouted, 'Hey! Gian! Gian! High five!' He stopped where we leaned over the padded fence and met my husband's outstretched hand with his own. But he didn't merely slap it; he held it, shook it strongly, and said, 'Thank you. Thank you for letting me play baseball in America. Thank you for letting me be an American. I'm so proud. Thank you.' He was crying, openly crying at us, unashamed. He just kept saying thank you, over and over, to every person who reached out to touch him. The crowd mobbed him, pulled him inside the stands and embraced him.

"During this mosh pit of excitement, I was pushed right against him. He smiled at me, took his sweat soaked hat off his head and shoved it on me. I wanted to say, 'Thank you,' even though it wouldn't have been heard over all the noise. But he said, 'What a great country, what a great country!' I could only grin with him and share in his love for America. Like a lot of people, I felt a restored faith in this country. Sure, things were bad and sure, it felt like our government was kind of an ass, but we were still the best in the world.

"And it was thanks to that incident that it looked like our country was going to turn around. But eventually, people forgot about how strongly de' Medici felt and they forgot about how they felt. It just faded when the hunger set in. But I haven't forgotten. This hat… every time I wear this hat, I feel his love. It makes me want to keep seeking the truth."

She hadn't been looking at Percy while she talked, but he watched her intently. When she finally finished, she faced him. He said, "I just asked what it reminded you of. I didn't ask for a novel." Instead of being upset, she laughed. It seemed like it was meant to be a good natured joke rather than an insult. Her eyes went back to the crowded park and he caught that sad look again. This time, he tried to follow her line of sight to see what made her melancholy. It was hard to tell, but it seemed as though she was watching Jordan's family.

Despite his ways, Jordan only appeared truly happy with his family. For the first time since Percy had known him, Jordan held the most joyful expression he had ever seen. The man pushed his children, both young boys, through the snow on a wagon without wheels; his wife watched on in amusement. "Some people can handle it," Riane whispered. Percy c****d a brow and titled his head in confusion. Maybe he hadn't heard right. She did not elaborate and instead asked, "Do you have anything that reminds you of something?"

"Yeah," he answered. She waited for him to continue. He hated conversations. He pointed to the left side of his torso and said, "I have a scar here that reminds me of a time when I lost two soldiers." To her, that was quite the mortifying statement and she displayed her thoughts upon her face. He caught her expression and said, "What?"

"I just… was expecting something positive, since it's the holidays."

"Well, soldiers die. Even on Christmas."

"Is war all you know?" she asked. He didn't respond, because he didn't feel obligated to respond. A loud, annoyed sigh escaped her lips. She wanted to like Percy as a man, but he was a difficult guy to like. She figured he processed everything based on two things: how important it was to survival, and how it helped him gain power.

It surprised her when he finally said, "There's other things I'd like to know." For some reason, she expected him to give an example, but again they fell into silence.

Their attention turned away from their conversation and to the stage when the music stopped. "Is it really safe to use a microphone when it's wet outside?" Warren joked as he took the mic for himself. He greeted the crowd and grabbed everyone's attention. Most of what he said went unheard to Percy, since he wasn't really paying attention. Somewhere along the line his brain clicked and he realized it might be important to listen. Warren said, "This past year has been tough, but we've been strong and resilient against it all. Today and tomorrow of all days is when we should be truly thankful for all that we have, regardless of how little it may seem. We still have each other and we still have God to help guide us through all of this turmoil. We should focus on the positive things happening in our community. I'm pleased to say that Union High School grad Jeffery Duggart set an NCAA record with the Cornhuskers early this season. So let's show him some, love, yeah?"

Everyone was ecstatic, proof that their community had some energy in them. Warren continued to speak; he listed the numerous achievements by various people throughout town and noted that the economy had stabilized despite the drought. It was heard but not processed by Percy. He continued, "The future is a scary thing. We don't know for certain what sort of outside evils will await us tomorrow. But we do know of the inside evils; those demons and temptations that want to open up the door to sin. How do we defeat them? Well you don't need to worry. Why? Because God has granted us a Holy Warrior; not only did He grant us this warrior, He placed it inside of all of us. It rests there to give you strength against these evils – not to defeat them for you, no! It can only give you a push forward, it cannot move your feet for you; it can only hand you the sword, it cannot swing it for you. Now, as an elected official on the City Council, I can't legally say what I'm about to –"

"f**k the law, anyway, Minister!" someone yelled.

"Not a good thing to say when a deputy is right behind you, Clancy," Warren joked.

"Nah, f**k that law!" the deputy hollered.

"Yeah, Minister, this is America! You can say whatever you want to!"

"No, he can't," Riane muttered.

Percy muted Warren. He turned to Riane and asked, "In your opinion, what goes into a good nation?"

The question was out of nowhere, but it was a subject that interested her so she answered without hesitation. "A good nation protects the rights of the people," she said. "Not just within their borders, but everyone."

"How would a group of people go about making a good nation? You know, what's the anatomy of a nation?"

"Hm," she contemplated it for a moment. "I'm not sure where you would start. I mean, it's a lot like a person. Where on the body does the first fragment come into existence? Or does it all magically appear at once? So, first, you need to decide what kind of nation you want. Most people think there's only two types of government, a democracy or a dictatorship. Really, I don't think any of these actually exist, since they're too extreme to last for long. The more common forms are the republic and the oligarchy, although the lines are blurred to the point of confusion. I mean, we call America a democracy, but its foundation is that of a republic, but the truth is it's more like an oligarchy. Oh, I'm rambling now. The point is, you can choose between an autocracy, a republic, democracy, oligarchy, stratocracy, theocracy. Or, even, any combination.

"Then you have to decide on a form of economic governance. Is it a capitalist society? Communism? Socialism? It can get really confusing. After you figure out what you have, say, a capitalist republic like America, then you have to actually create an economy. You have to have currency and that currency has to have some sort of real wealth to back it up. People have to believe in the leaders who form this government and they have to believe in the economy you create. The citizens generate income for the government, and now you have to figure out how that income is distributed for projects throughout the country. You have to create law; which laws will govern the people, which will govern the government? How will the laws be carried out?" She stopped briefly to sigh. "It's complicated. You're better off asking someone with experience, like Freddie."

"You're pretty much correct," Huck's voice lingered. They turned to find him idly behind them, his arms crossed and gaze focused on the Minister. Freddie and Rita were behind him, seemingly bored of the festival. "All of that is irrelevant, though, if you lack justice. You have to remember, Major, that the law and justice are two separate things; the law is merely rules created and enforced by man, they are not always just."

"What is justice?" Percy inquired.

Freddie answered, "That which protects us from corruption. A fair Goddess that knows our rights and defends them against all evils. She does not seek revenge; She is not swayed by emotions. Liberty seeking men have grasped at Her gown since the birth of civilization. Righteous men seek Her grace, truth their only guide."

"What would a noble from Europe know of liberty and justice?" Riane laughed. Her cynic side was showing. "Europe's been corrupt for generations."

"You think I don't know that?" Freddie sneered. "When I reached adulthood I stepped out into a war-torn world where the suffocating grip of anxious leaders prevented us from expressing ourselves. The bleak skylines were lined with concrete and wire; the majestic cities of our past were now graveyards, with the few remaining towers merely headstones for the dead. Freedom meant you could walk down the street without being harassed by armed men; luck meant you survived the week. Predetermination was not a question; children were told what they would become before they even knew who they were. Men would be builders and soldiers; women would be wives and mothers.

"In school they taught us about liberty. The teachers told us stories of men like John Adams, Ben Franklin, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, and Immanuel Kant. The more I read of these great men, these fascinating events, I wondered why my great country was again at war, why was it again under siege? When I had a son of my own, I wanted him to know of the great things I could only read of. I told myself I would not wear the handsome King's uniform and instead would wear the rebel's cap, for it is the noblest crown a freeman can wear.

"I left that murky prison and fled; I searched the night for a new home. Through the darkness a light shone bright and led me from the oppression I wanted to leave behind. There I saw the beautiful goddess Libertas, and She called unto me, 'I shall trample the shackles around your wrist, free your lips of hatred's thoughts, take your hand and lead you home. Let my torch illuminate the path to greatness, let my light shine brightly into your eyes.' I bowed before Her, kissed Her feet and cried the tears of a liberated man.

"Yet I soon found out that tyrants had stolen Her crown, and I swear that She, too, cried with me in that harbor. She said to me, 'King Solomon of England, you have found your home, your refuge. Now find your resolve, find the strength to return my crown.' So with a heavy heart I left my countrymen in desolate Europe and fight to this day for Her crown, for She should be not prisoner nor servant in this great land."

"Are you going to help us restore Her crown, Major?" Huck questioned.

Percy didn't answer. He felt as though he had no reason to, because it would merely be repeating what everyone already knew. His actions would speak for themselves.