Puppy put on his socks and went back to Monroe’s.
17
Second Cousins Patel and Cruz peeled off outside the conference room with dismayed looks; Cheng nodded reassuringly and caught up with Grandma as she returned to her living quarters. He waved off an offer of fresh coffee and stood silently by her desk.
Grandma glanced up as if surprised to still see him there. “I upset Fran and Carlos, didn’t I?”
“You were rather distant.”
“I was very heartened by the West Coast clean-up but I still want settlements, at least around San Diego, by the end of the year.”
“As soon as it’s safe.”
“No, Albert. As soon as the scientists find the means, which has lagged greatly. I want the radiation levels down to zero by the end of the year. And I want Americans living in Southern California by early next year.” She waved off his protests. “Minimal American populations is an open window for the Chinese to meddle and I won’t have it.”
“They probably funded the damn terrorists.”
Grandma glared. “That’s a lie and you know it.”
“Makes perfect sense. The great world power gone…”
“And they lose the buffer against the Caliphate. Next year in San Diego. The year after in LA.”
“We can celebrate the 22nd Century there.” He tipped his shoulders forward slightly and she reddened.
“Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for those wonderful physicians. Children living outside the womb at three months.”
“I know. I put that on your calendar since health is one of my areas. Along with education.”
She shot him a sour look and made coffee by the walnut side table, lingering over each scoop. “What’s the progress of importing real coffee?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“There are reports of black market caffeine. The neutrals down there in Brazil will work with us. I want that done. The Family should have real coffee in the morning. That’s a true family breakfast. If only we could manage bacon.”
“I’ll handle creating pigs along with undoing the effects of the Allah nuclear terrorist attack on Los Angeles.”
Grandma dropped a coffee cup and stared with heavy eyes, probing. He let her in just slightly, the years giving him new insights into protecting his thoughts. Or, he sometimes wondered, were her powers waning? Along with her judgment.
“I won’t be deterred.”
“You can’t release those curriculum guidelines, Lenora.”
“Can’t as in shouldn’t? Or can’t as in I won’t be allowed?”
Cheng stiffened. “Ultimately, it is your decision.”
“Yes, it is.”
“But we need to discuss this further.”
“Everything’s quiet. Have there been any flare-ups?”
“There are occasional Kill Allahs signs…”
“By whom? Children.”
“Children are taught,” he said coldly.
“Yes, they are. And we’re not living in our bubble forever, Albert.”
He swallowed slowly. “Meaning?”
“I want to teach everything that happened. Whether we fare well or not.”
“There is only Allah treachery.”
“Please don’t insult me, Albert. We wrote the history to satisfy our losses.” She waved her arm. “And don’t lecture about LA and Washington and Manhattan. We need to understand why it happened. We can’t wallow in resentment and hatred.”
“So you want to re-write the truth?”
“Truth, my darling, is perhaps the most subjective fact of all. I think we’ve reached a stage where we can discuss the events leading up to the Allah War.”
“Such as?”
She flushed at his quiet insolence. “Like the deportations. Did we over-react? Did we banish loyal Americans?”
“Who believed in sharia, world conquest, hiding behind terror cells in mosques.”
“They could just as easily have abandoned that religious nonsense like the Christians and Jews.”
“There were no nuns or rabbis strapping bombs around their waists, blowing up school buses in our cities.”
“I’m not defending that.” His silence infuriated her. “They were largely disloyal, no protests against the terrorists, little support for America. I lived that, too, Albert. But perhaps we should’ve let the Muslims who wanted to follow their religion do so, as we allowed the others. Quietly, until they came to their senses about God and miracles instead of rounding them all up and out the door. You can do the right thing and still get some of it wrong.” She pursed her lips stubbornly, the traditional sign that debate was over. “I’m going through with this, Albert.”
“Changing the educational curriculums still requires passage by First Cousins.”
Grandma smiled wintrily. “Not if it’s a Grandma Story.”
Cheng barely kept his anger checked. “That is very unwise, Lenora. Everyone will hear it.”
“That’s the point.”
“Including the damn Allahs.”
Grandma put on her reading glasses. “Your disapproval has been noted, First Cousin. Now if you’ll please excuse me.”
He didn’t move. “I want to see the script beforehand.”
“Of course, Albert,” she said without looking up. “You are my loyal First Cousin, after all.”
Her gloating sarcasm followed him down the hall. Not this time, Grandma.
• • • •
FRECKLIE SQUATTED BY the entrance to the DV community center, eyes lowered in embarrassment. Puppy stood over him for a moment, slowly unfolding the tiny white square of paper that Frecklie had stuck inside his door frame.
Only families were allowed to communicate beyond these casual notes and regular mail, easily the finest postal system in the world with four deliveries a day, and that, only in an emergency.
All siblings registered key members of their families for interconnect between the vid news, specially coded for your residence only. Emergency meant emergency. No “how was school” or “what’s for dinner.” It had to be something like “leg mangled, in Lebanon Hospital.” Implicit in any family communication was the question of why? If you were in a family, you’d know what was happening, you’d see them, share, spend time together. No mysteries, no sudden, “what do you mean Uncle Matsori’s socks store is closing?” You’d have suffered with Uncle Matsori, listened to his complaints, problems, helped him sort it all out over endless piles of Darnell’s Cream Donuts. That’s what a family does. Anyone who needed to message more than “fell down elevator shaft” wasn’t doing their job.
Friends, well, there was no communication that constituted an emergency with friends. Someone’s gone missing. They
