punishment, sick of the ACLU sticking their noses into everybody else’s business. Oh… don’t get me started, Pal. Besides, as a young lady once told me, not too long ago, it’s all moot now, anyway.”
“Is it, Ben?” Pal asked. “What about Logan?”
Ben chuckled. “Our president-we-didn’t-elect? Yeah, I know. I gather you folks aren’t responding to his orders to relocate?”
“Logan can take his orders and stick them up his nose,” Valerie said. “I never did like that man; didn’t trust him.”
Megan’s words.
“I shall live,” she continued, “where I damned well choose to live.”
Ben told them about Ike and Megan; of New Africa and what the government planned to do. And then he told them, just touching on it, of the idea that was in his mind—to get their reactions.
They both were excited. “Are you serious with this, Ben?” Pal inquired, leaning forward.
“Yes, I suppose I am. I know I am. I’ve been resisting it for months. I didn’t believe Americans would follow Logan’s orders, falling in line like lemmings on the way to the sea, blindly following orders. You two have witnessed it?”
Pal nodded. “Yes. Several times during the past few months. People are being forced to relocate, many of them against their will.”
“You were going to tour the country, write about it?” Valerie asked.
“Was,” he said. “You people?”
“The kids have to have schooling,” Pal said. “And I’m told a man named Cecil Jeffrey and his wife, Lila, are really doing some fantastic things down in Louisiana.”
“I just told you what Logan planned to do about New Africa,” Ben reminded them.
“Maybe it won’t happen.”
“You can’t believe that.”
“No,” Pal said quietly. “I suppose not. White people have always been fearful of an all-black nation, whether you will admit it, or not. But I suppose we have to try. I have a master’s in science; Valerie, a master’s in business. They are going to need teachers.”
“But I just told you—”
“I know—I know.” Pal waved him silent. “But after all that has happened… all the horror, I thought perhaps the government would… let us alone, let us rebuild.”
“You know they won’t.”
Pal and Valerie said nothing in rebuttal.
Ben told them of Kasim, ending with, “I intend to kill that man if I ever see him again.”
“Why, Ben?” Valerie asked. “You seem a fair man. But even in you, there is hate. Why?”
“Because… he is not what you people need, any more than my people need the KKK. What we both need is understanding. Always have. I’d meet Kasim halfway, try to work it out, but he doesn’t want that. With him, it’s whole hog or nothing. If you go to New Africa, if Logan lets it exist—which he won’t—you, both of you, will be attempting to teach truth and knowledge and fact, in a western manner. Kasim will be teaching hate without reason… in robe and turban. You’ll be pulling against each other. It won’t work. I’d like to see a nation—a state, if you will—where we teach truth, as supported by fact; the arts, the sciences, English, other languages, fine music— the whole bag. I have this theory—very controversial—that we are, should have to start from scratch. Gather up a group of people who are color-blind and as free of hates and prejudices as possible, and say ‘All right, folks, here it is; we, all of us, are going to wash everything clean and begin anew. Here will be our laws, as we choose them. We will live by these laws, and they will be enforced
Both Pal and Valerie were silent for a few seconds after Ben finished. Pal finally said, “That, my friend, would be some society, if it would work.”
“It would work.” Ben defended his theory. “If the government—the central government—would leave the people alone. It would work because everyone in the system would be working toward that goal. There would be no dissension.”
“Don’t you feel that concept rather idealistic?” Valerie asked.
“No, Valerie, I don’t. But I will say it would take a lot of bending and adjusting for the people who chose to live in that type of society.”
“Ben Raines?” Pal looked at him. “Let’s keep in touch.”
As he drove away the next morning, Ben thought: Now there are the types of people I’d like to have for neighbors, friends. Good people, educated people, knowledgeable people, with dreams and hopes and an eye toward the future.
He waved good-by as he headed for the highway that would take him into Oklahoma. On the second day, he headed for Oklahoma City. He had installed a scanner in the truck, depending on the people to warn him of any upcoming meeting with Logan’s military or other unfriendly types.
He stopped often, talking with people. Yes, they had heard of the new president, and of his orders to relocate the people. But no, they didn’t think they’d go along with that. This was their home, and here was where they intended to stay.
“What if he sends people in here to move you forcibly?” Ben asked.
They didn’t know what they’d do.
At the University of Oklahoma, he met a group of young people and spent two nights there, talking with them.
“Some of us were in the original group from Chapel Hill,” a young woman told him. “I don’t believe there are many of us left.”
“Run into trouble?” Ben asked.
The young woman patted Juno for a moment, rubbing his head for a time before answering. “We weren’t ready for what came at us,” she admitted. “We didn’t—most of us—have guns. All in my group were city-born and - reared. I’d never fired a gun in my life. We thought people would want help in getting organized again. You know, planting gardens… all that. And we did find a few old people who really appreciated what we did. But all over the country, people are setting up their own little governments….”
So his idea was not novel; he didn’t expect it was.
“…And man, some of those people didn’t want us around—at all! We found religious nuts—and I mean
“A lot of our people went into the cities.” She shook her head. “They never came out. Then we started getting smart; rigged up our cars and Jeeps and pickups with CBs—and boy, did we get wary. We finally got it through our heads that if we were going to survive, we’d damned well better get with the program; get ourselves some guns and learn how to use them.” She waved her hand. “You see those two hundred-odd kids here, Mr. Raines? This is it. With the exception of one small group, this is all that’s left out of about thirty-five hundred young people who left Chapel Hill. This is it! I never knew what that expression about it being a jungle out there really meant… until we… went out to save the world.” Her laugh was bitter, and not suited to the young woman.
Ben looked around him at the beaten-down, disillusioned young people. He thought: all your fancy cars and pretty clothes and gold throat jewelry and extravagant allowances from overindulgent parents didn’t prepare you for this, did it, kids? All the fancy words from college professors didn’t do a damned thing to help you cope with hard reality. But when he spoke it was, “So now what, kids? All of you just going to give up?”
Two dozen pairs of eyes shifted to him. Hostile, hurt eyes. Ben grinned, knowing he had hit a tender spot.
“What’s it to you, man?” a boy asked.
Ben shrugged. “Maybe nothing. Maybe I should just move on. Losers never appealed to me.”
“Hey!” The spokeswoman almost shouted the word at him. “What do you want from us, mister? Huh? We
