Chapter 129

“Now I close my eyes and the notes are black ribbons spooling from my fingertips, reminding me of Wildgirl’s hair.”
—Leanne Hall, Queen of the Night

29 NOVEMBER 2020

Em was home for a total of seven days and I had to spend three of them in school. And the equivalent of another rehearsing. It makes me mad that all of a sudden, our lives can be ripped up again and we ‘children’ have no choice but blind obedience to the ones with authority. When I was an old man, I’d have told them all to fuck off and leave me alone. But as a teen, that would be considered rebellious and disobedient. Two of the things the old man despised about ‘kids these days.’

I looked up the section of the National Services Act (Title 53) the president referred to. It’s almost impossible for a normal human being to find any given law in the US Code. And finding the law is no guarantee you’ll be able to read or understand it. And 30,000 sections? It took a while to figure out how they numbered them by subtitle 3, chapter 01, and section 07. I have no idea how articles, paragraphs, lines, and other subdivisions are determined.

Anyway, the law says, under the authority of the president to declare a state of national emergency, all persons serving in the National Service may be recalled from any break in service due to leave, holiday, vacation, temporary assignment, yada yada yada ... to their permanent duty stations to await deployment. All forms of public transportation, including air, rail, and bus, shall give priority seating to National Service personnel thus recalled and shall charge transportation of said individuals to the National Service according to section...

It all sounds good and Em was put on a flight out of Fort Wayne first thing Friday morning back to Kansas City where she left her car for the three hour drive back to Salina. But I kept reading and found the real kicker. Under a national emergency, all termination dates are suspended. In other words, if the national emergency lasts past Em’s termination date of July 9, 2021, she still doesn’t get out until the emergency is lifted. What a bunch of bull!

I’m thinking of all those who started their National Service about this time of year, believing they’d have a real holiday celebration back home when their service ended in two years. If the state of emergency isn’t lifted before Christmas, they won’t get home for the holiday.

I really wish Gieseke hadn’t been such a prick about not letting me into the Constitutional Government class this year. This is the kind of stuff we should be taught and be aware of in school before we have to go register and take the NSAT. Despite the bulk of the law they finally passed, I kept finding footnote references to “Rules and Regulations” that aren’t even a part of the legislation. Everything about how the service actually functions is contained in volumes of R&R publications that have the same power as law but never saw a vote in congress. I wonder how much of it was just lifted from the UCMJ. The National Service wasn’t supposed to be an extension of the Armed Forces.

Fuck these fuckers!

“How’s Emily doing?” Rachel asked at lunch Monday.

“Bored,” I said. “I talked to her last night and once she reported for duty, they sent her to her quarters and said they’d call as soon as they had orders and until then all normal routes and deliveries were suspended. So, she had to fly back two days before her leave was over and has nothing to do but sit and wait. It so sucks.”

“Just the opposite of Joan,” Beca said. “She got to her office just before midnight Thursday night and hasn’t left yet. She says she’s been getting hourly updates on deployments and issues to animate and send up the chain. She has no idea where they go from there.”

“I don’t get it,” Desi said. “First off, why does Mexico closing its border create a national emergency? Nobody needs to go there. And they can’t just send people they don’t want into the US. Border Patrol won’t let anyone out of Mexico without prior approval. Unless they scale the wall and make a run for it.”

“And what’s going to happen to the Mexican economy? The Sunday report on TV—which had all the fancy graphics Joan told us would come out—cited Mexico’s dependence on trade with the US. Where are they going to sell their asparagus?” Brittany asked.

“Like usual, we’re only getting half the story from the news and it’s the half the government wants us to hear,” I groused.

“We have a free press!” Livy said.

“That freely reports whatever they’re told to,” I responded hotly. “How can we know the truth about anything we read or hear? Did Walter Cronkite go to Mexico and interview the president there about why he was closing the borders?”

“Who’s Walter Cronkite?” Desi asked.

“Never mind. News reporters report what they know. They only have access to the information the government provides. They have no way of knowing if the government is giving them all the facts or is condensing a thousand-page report to three acceptable bullet points.”

“That’s why we have social media. The people report.”

“No, they don’t. The people copy and paste what they think other people have reported. It’s a popularity contest to see whose lie gets the most likes. You could start posting my science fiction on Twitter and before long someone would be arguing online about whether the colonization spaceship that’s being built by NASA is really a death star being prepared for battle with aliens. And people would believe it!”

“You’re really on a tear today, Jacob,” Beca said soothingly as she rubbed my shoulders. “I understand. I’m upset by it all, too. Joan and I had something really special planned for you and Emily Saturday. So much for that. But what can we do? We’re fifteen to eighteen years old, sitting in a high school cafeteria, upset because our lovers have been called away. Should we hold a protest? Against what? Write to our congressmen? Why would they care about people who can’t vote? Launch a campaign to use cloth shopping bags and get rid of plastic? Really, Jacob. What can we do?”

We decided. I had to laugh at our utter impotence. Maybe that was the best we could do. When the Nazis rose to power in Germany, teens protested by going to banned jazz clubs. Taking one little thing they could control and using it to thumb their noses at the Hitler Youth. Until they were arrested and put in the army. ‘It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing.’

We decided to all attend the Winter Dance on Saturday, wearing black. Yeah. Is that stupid or what? Turns out, it started a trend. I don’t know how these things get started and take on a life of their own. I guess they call it ‘going viral’ these days. But black clothes became more common in school as the week progressed. There was even talk among the orchestra members that we would forgo the traditional white shirts for our Christmas Concert in favor of black ones. I wondered how LeBlanc would take that.

We had three after-school rehearsals for the orchestra which meant Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday, Cindy and I rehearsed double. The good part was LeBlanc consented to help us Tuesday and Thursday and really made a difference in the sound of ‘Cantos Desiertos.’ When we prepared it for Cindy’s recital, all our instruction had been with Vinnie and Jannie. Getting input from LeBlanc helped clean up a section we’d been having trouble recapturing. And he wasn’t negative about the way we were connecting on the ‘Histoire du Tango’ by Piazzolla. He was actually sitting back tapping his foot at one point. Next week, we’d work more on our staging as John’s class rehearsed with us.

It took a little persuading to get Betty to agree to let Cindy go to the Winter Dance with us. In fact, Rachel, Livy, Beca, Desi, and Brittany all went with me to ask. Betty was usually pretty good about letting Cindy participate in things when Donna, Nanette, or Sophie was involved. Agreeing to letting her go out with six teens was a harder sell. As usual, it came down to Beca.

“Mrs. Marvel, I’d like to ask your permission to take my girlfriend Cindy to the Winter Dance.” Betty looked at Beca and then to me and back to Beca. “Cindy is my girlfriend and a member of my pod. I’ll take full responsibility for seeing that she is safe within our group all evening.”

“Your girlfriend? I thought Jacob...” Betty started.

“Mom, the pod is the pod. We use the term boyfriend and girlfriend with each other because there isn’t a better word,” Cindy said.

“I just wanted you to be a little older before you started dating.” Cindy put her arm around her mother and laid her head on her mother’s shoulder.

“I turned fifteen in Jacob’s arms. You were there. So were Brittany and Sophie and Desi. Just because we’re going to a dance, it doesn’t mean we’re sleeping together.”

“Cindy!”

“Mrs. Marvel, we plan to take two vehicles. Whichever one Cindy is in, I’ll be in. Would you prefer if we ride with Jacob in his truck or with Rachel in her Yaris?” Beca said. Hmm. Presumptive close. Betty, you’ve already consented to let her go, so which of us should she ride with? Nice job, Beca.

“Uh, I suppose with ... Oh, it doesn’t make a difference. Have fun and be home by midnight. Do you all understand?”

“Yes, Mom!” we chorused.

And so, it came about that on Saturday at seven, we all showed up at Cindy’s house, dressed in solid black, to pick up our date. Black was something Cindy had plenty of since she often wore a black dress to play in the community orchestra. Betty and Mark were both puzzled that we were all in black and then saw Keith head out to pick up his date, also dressed completely in black.

Not everyone at the dance was dressed in black but it was a solid majority. The decorating committee had even changed the theme and instead of the traditional red and green crepe paper garlands, the room was hung in black. Instead of holiday greetings, prominent banners called out, ‘Repeal 28!’

The rest of the dance went like any other celebration at school. There was music. We danced. I danced with all seven of my partners and then Adrienne and Celia showed up and I danced with them.

“It’s so unfair,” Celia complained. “We did all this research regarding timing so they’d finish NSO training Christmas week and then be home for their week off the week between Christmas and New Year. And here they get locked down and will move directly to their permanent base on Christmas Day. It’s so fucked up!”

“We agree,” I said. Celia’s black silk sheath dress clung to her curves and moved like skin on her body. I was having a difficult time thinking of anything else. “Em and Joan were both home for Thanksgiving and had to leave.”

“Your pod is lucky you have so many. I mean ... I love Adrienne, but I really miss Bernie’s dick.” She giggled a little and pressed her face against my chest. There was a little hip thrust against my growing interest tossed in there. “And all three of them have confessed to having lovers. It’s just a comfort thing, you know. I could use some comfort.” I could feel her face heating up against my chest as her pelvis continued to grind against me. In rhythm with the music, of course. “Jacob? Would you consider comforting Adrienne and me? Please? Like over Christmas? Please?”