Black Box 86ed Read online

  Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah I switch the channel to FOX news, it’s William O’Malley.

  “A whistle blower in the inner sanctions of the White house intends to release cables detailing the surveillance of thousands of Occupy Wall Street protesters. Going so far as to listen in on and record every phone call and text message made in most major cities throughout the United States. Tea party advocates have taken an interest with this obvious blow to the rights of privacy with those like Senator Ronald Paul speaking out against it. He has also overwhelmingly protested the idea of dispatching military units to Oakland questioning not only the legality of such a decision, but also the moral aspect of quote “beating back protesters who were at once peaceful and have a valid argument.” As we are seeing now, a sit in that originally started about loans to large corporations has now blown into a full riot with a large scope of ideas included in which is the abuse of power by police and the recently revealed spying. We are also seeing now that the large political movement, the Tea Party has given a sympathetic ear to these trespasses and in large part have started to support the protests they once denounced. Surely with the help of Mr. Paul’s recent speeches and press briefings. I have on my show today Senator Landen Paul who is also a tea party member candidate and son of the long time senator Ronald Paul. So what is your take on the situation in Oakland?”

  “It’s a travesty Bill. The Peoples’ right to not only peacefully protest but also their right to privacy has been completely eclipsed by this administration. There was a revolution because of similar actions by a ruling body; we call it the revolutionary war. We cannot allow the United States government to freely do whatever it pleases. We have not seen this kind of uprising since the march on Washington led by Dr. Martin Luther King and we are seeing similar reaction by the police now as they did in the sixties. This will not be tolerated and I will do everything in my power to restore common sense to America.”

  “Strong words from an up and coming senator. We are getting reports that the president himself will be holding a press meeting concerning the events of last night, of course we will have this for you live at about five pm eastern time today. We'll be right back after these messages”

  The TV quickly switches to a man dressed in a ceremonial army uniform, he's missing his left leg. “I've given my country everything. Like many before me I have given to this country my heart, my soul and my body so countless others do not have to. Your children can go to school unharmed, you can go to work without fear. I have helped protect and build this nation, and I know that no matter how tough I have needed to be, my country will always be behind me. That my accomplishments are our accomplishments. I still believe in the United States of America, I will always believe. We will get through this stronger and more united. Don't give up on this great country, I never did.”

  A voice like those disclaimers at the end of a commercial come on while the man stairs defiantly into the TV. “Paid for by the department of Home Land Security.”

  Was... was that an ad to get people to calm down? Did I just see an ad telling people to trust the government? That has to be a first. Are they really that scared?

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. Fishing it out allowing gratuitous amounts of change and pocket lint to make their great escape. It Grace. It’s ok Will, it’s ok. She just wants to know why you left last night, you’re going to be bright, you’re going to be cheery, and all sorts of bubbly and everything will be just fine.

  “Hello?” My voice cracks ever so slightly.

  “Hey what’s up?”

  “Not too much I’m kinda just sleeping off my hangover.”

  “O ha, ya you drank a lot last night.”

  “Ya I was in the zone I guess.” I let out a halfhearted chuckle.

  “You seemed off though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I’m sorry I barely remember any of last night you’re going to have to be more specific.” Dam I’m a good liar.

  “Well you didn’t talk to me at all last night, not even a good by. I was looking for you all night.”

  “O my bad, ya I think I walked home.”

  “O well at least you made it home safe, what cha doing, you want to meet up?”

  “I got some chores to do, laundry and all that good stuff.”

  “Well when you’re done you wanna kick it after Mike leaves for basic today?”

  “I’ll have to see. Why don’t I just call you when I’m done with the laundry.”

  “Come on Will you can come up with a better excuse than laundry, what’s wrong? I’m sorry about last night if that’s what you upset about. I should have told you. You just surprised me is all.” She pauses waiting for a response but I’m only able to breath into the phone. “I do like you, but just as a friend you know. I mean people date and people break up I don’t want to lose what we have.”

  “It’s fine it really is, can’t a guy just try an get some?” I joke instantly knowing this is the worst thing I can possibly say. Dead silence. “I was joking, sorry it’s just a weird conversation.”

  “It’s not weird we need to talk about this. I don’t ever want to lose you especially over something we could just talk out.”

  I feel my blood rise. I’m not mad at her, just myself. She’s absolutely perfect, so caring; I have to make her mine no matter what it takes. “It’s alright don’t worry we will be just fine.” “Nothing is going to change between us.”

  “You promise?”

  “I swear, cross my heart.”

  “Ok I believe you Will!” She says in a determined you better not be lying voice.

  “Don’t worry, I’m going to go do laundry and we’ll talk after Mikes going away party, ok?”

  “Ok, we better!”

  “I promise.” I hang up the phone. I don’t have any laundry to do I just need some time to get my head straight. How the hell do I turn this relationship around? I need to show her she wants me, no she needs me. That I’m something to be needed. That she will love me as much as I’m in love with her. God I sound like such a girl, maybe that’s it. I’m not an asshole enough for her to want and need me. She has to feel like she needs to win me, and not that she already has me.

  O, fuck it; just take her on a date. Not official in anyway but something that to any normal person would feel like one.

  That’s a genus idea. What, candles and a box of wine? Usually arguing with myself helps but, it seems like I’ve just been going around in circles lately.

  A movie?

  O now that’s cliché as hell.

  Will, what the hell are you doing? Your best friend has just started dating her; kinda a lost cause now isn’t it?

  Ya, well I’ve liked her for an incredible amount of time does that not count for anything?

  You never called dibs though, not officially. No one knows what you’ve been thinking these last few months. For fuck sake you haven’t had a deep conversation with anyone, Grace excluded.

  Ya but what good does it do when all I can think about day in and day out is how alone I truly am, and the fact that the last thing connecting you to your parents will be getting foreclosed on, and you will not only be homeless loveless and broke, but you’ll be falling into endless pit of a future that life has just kicked you into. Jesus, you just need some fresh air, some fresh life.

  I pull myself off the couch, remnants of vodka mixed with blood rush to my head as the floor creaks beneath me. Walking into the kitchen I open the fridge taking some orange juice I chug probably half a gallon. God you would think they would make alcohol that doesn’t dehydrate you by now. I close the fridge door as all my art pictures from grade school flap in the draft. Pictures of my stick figure family sitting around the dinner table settle back in their rightful place. My stomach rumbles and aches from the apparent workout it takes to get off the couch and walk ten feet.

  Grabbing my stomach I lean against t
he fridge. Ten seconds, ten seconds and I’ll be fine, right as rain. Squinting my eyes at the linoleum floor I take a few deep breaths soothing my stomach. One of my Picasso esc drawing of me and my parents holding hands floats into view then getting sucked halfway under the fridge, flapping in the draft of the compressor. I do the tremendous effort of leaning down and grabbing it before it’s gone forever. Pulling it out, I look at it. I remember this. We had just gotten back from our camping trip and my dad surprised me with some finger paint. When he gave me the paint, I mean let’s just say a second coming of Christ would have paled in comparison to how awesome I thought it was.

  Standing back to my full upright position I place the picture back under its magnet, a picture of me on Santa’s lap. How did the fridge become the armature art gallery of every house in the country anyways? It has to be a conspiracy by the people who make magnets and fridges.

  Gunshots ring out from my TV. It’s cell phone footage of what looks to be New York City. The caption at the bottom of the screen reading. “Live ammunition, accidently fired on Wall Street.”

  The footage cuts back to O’Malley. “This was taken earlier this morning as occupy protestors stormed the main buildings of Wall Street. After dislodging the famous Wall Street bull from it’s base with a hack saw, several people left large duffle bags on the front steps of major Wall Street firms and businesses. This particular incident occurred when a man in his late twenties seen being fired on in this video, had left two large bags on the main Wall Street steps. He then proceeded to carry around a teddy bear that appeared to have wires sticking out the back. Now, the bags as it turns out had only contained monopoly money. The bear also having no explosives. However, police have been treating this as a possible terrorist threat. And although many police officers believe the use of force necessary, we are being told there was no authorization to use live ammunition on the man, who has since passed.”

  “Now those duffle bags have been detonated by the New York bomb squad sending hundreds of monopoly notes into the air. Police are on high alert after finding multiple undetonated IEDs in a New York subway, near Oakland’s largest police department, and at the Washington monument. Closing the whole national mall and restricting access to all government buildings in Washington DC to only members of the media and government workers.”

  “This all comes at a time when Chicago’s downtown remains on intense high alert after the car bomb that was detonated late last night, injuring three including a national guardsmen and one officer. Police have been looking into a possible concerted and organized effort in these explosives almost all of a sudden appearing at once.”

  “Bill, Bill I’m sorry to interrupt,” the screen cuts to a reporter I’ve never seen before. “In regards to the man shot earlier this morning, after investigation of the possible explosives hidden in the bear, it has turn out to be nothing more than a bear that requires batteries to sing and dance. Early reports of the man taking part in the demonstration, as well as having a direct roll in the placing of duffle bags on the front steps of Wall Street have been determined as incorrect. The police report claiming him as an occupy demonstrator and possible public safety threat have been retracted by the officials whom made the claims earlier today. I have with me, Debra the wife of the man shot earlier today.”

  He walks over to a very skinny woman with dark brown hair in maybe her mid to early thirties

  “Thank you for joining us today and I would just like to extend my condolences to you and your family as you get through this hard time.”

  “Thank you,” she meekly replies.

  “Now you have told us that your husband was not taking place in the riots today, is that correct?”

  “No, he wasn’t. Today was our third year anniversary and I’m not sure but he must have bought the bear for me.”

  “”Do, you know why he was at the”…

  The television goes blank with a “We are currently suffering technical difficulties, we’ll be right back.”

  CHAPTER…

  Walking into Mike’s trailer it feels like I’ve entered an underground version of a children’s book. The air thick with cigarette and pot smoke, weirdly colorful sentimental decorations covering the walls. The kind that are oddly undefined like WAY TO GO, YOU DID IT, or WE’RE SO PROUD!!! Wait no it’s more of a garage punk children’s book, O the places you’ll DIE, DIE, DIE, I think in my head as I stare at a blown up picture of Mike when what looks to be his fifth birthday. Grinning ear to ear holding a pop up action doll. Jesus, I actually remember when he got that. I was so jealous; I tried to take it home with me one day. Got it all the way to the car, but like always dad found me out and took it back in. I look around the living room, but its’ empty, except for shallow voices trailing from down the hall. I walk towards the back of the trailer to the deck.

  “Hey, hey there he is!” Jody exclaims quickly followed by her smokers laugh. You know the sound, like aaaahahahaha, but with a twinge of emphysema on each emphasis. She motions me over to her, Grace and Mike leaning on each other at her side. The length of my stay here shortening with each little giggle that escapes Graces lips. Mike looks to me already in his army outfit.

  “How you feeling buddy?” He smirks to me.

  “Like I’ve been hit by a bus.”

  “Ya man can’t believe you even make it home last night.”

  “God I know, I don’t even remember walking home.”

  “Jesus Will!” Jody scolds me.

  “Hey, it’s Elle I could pass out almost anywhere in this town and wake up not murdered.” I smirk to her.

  “Ya but you’ll get your ass ran over one of these days.”

  “Even when I’m drunk I always look both ways... probably.”

  Mike starts one of his many “O my God one time I was so wasted” stories, that I’ve grown accustomed to ignoring.

  Why are they even together? I ask myself, he’s gona be gone for most of the next two years what the hell is the point? Is this just a fling? Just a, hey lets fuck and pretend we are falling in love?

  Mike finishes his big most likely not completely factual story.

  “Well, now that Will’s here you guys ready for some cake?” Jody asks us as we all nod and head back into the trailer.

  “What kind of cake is it,” Grace asks as we crowd around the kitchen table.

  “Carrot cake,” Jody replies.

  “OOOOhhh,” Grace excitedly growls. “I love carrot cake!”

  “Well if Mike isn’t a pig you can probably take the leftovers.”

  “Ah, well it sucks to be Grace then,” he smiles as she shoves him.

  I feel my stomach churning doing my best to keep my face its normal pale white color.

  “Hey, wait look at Will,” Mike says.

  O shit my face has to be a deep shade of red.

  “O, Jesus Will,” Grace scolds. It’s damn near noon and you’re still sober?” She smiles. “We’re gona have to fix that!” She laughs, rummaging through her purse producing her black bowl and some incredibly orange weed. (When you’re as hot as she is it’s not hard to get some of the best stuff around)

  Suddenly the room fills with some terrible rap music. Something to the effect of a man getting lots of money will simultaneously romanticizing your lady friend because swag.

  “O, that’s me,” Mike says as he takes his phone out of his pocket. Grace continues packing her bowl.

  “Hello? Ahuh, ahuh, ok, ahuh, yes sir, ahuh, 0400 yes sir.” He hangs up.

  “Huh, I guess there’s been a change of plans.”

  O, god don’t tell me you aren’t going I think to myself.

  “We’re gona be training with law enforcement and the Nation Guard first.”

  “Why’s that?” Grace asks.

  “We’ll if I tell you I’d have to kill you,” he laughs. “Man, I haven’t had carrot cake in so long,” he quips quickly changing the subject.

  “Three months I thin
k,” Grace interjects.

  “O, that right Will’s birthday”… a slight lull in the conversation as everyone in the room tries to decide how touchy I still am over celebrating a birthday without parents.

  “Yep, yep I remember baking it,” Jody says. “Mike tried to eat it all before we even got to your house.” “O, that reminds me you get that all straightened out with the realtor?”

  “Yep,” I lie. “But since it’s not worth as much as when my parents bought it, I probably won’t get much money out of it.” (I’ve not even made the appointment to sell it yet.)

  “Well it’s better than getting into debt over it.” Jody says.

  “Are we going to eat this cake or talk about the stock market?” Mike interjects.

  “All right, all right Grace can you hand me the knife?” Jody asks.

  We cut the cake and quickly demolish it. In between hits off of Graces’ bowl. And besides Grace and Mike’s over dramatic this might be the last time I ever see you again kiss right before he heads out the door, they keep it pretty PG.

  CHAPTER…

  Slightly buzzed and still way too full I plop down on my couch glad that Grace apparently forgot about the whole hanging out bit. I flip on the TV; it’s still on Fox news. Obama is doing that press thing they were talking about earlier. He looks like he’s wrapping up his speech. I turn it up.

  “And this is something that we can overcome. This is a discussion we must have, but we cannot allow… we cannot tolerate young people and police men and woman a like to pay for this with their lives. I take your concerns very seriously and I will make it my goal to aaahhh to bring about fare and practical reforms to not only our stimulus but to also how local officials have treated demonstrators who are protesting peaceful…”

  He stops as if he’s been cut off. The camera pans out to a woman who seems to be yelling at him.

  “Now, now hold on.” Obama says trying to take back control.

  The woman ignoring him, reaching into her purse. Gunshots fired, blood splattering from her neck as she crumples to the ground, the secret service quickly pile on top of her. Obama’s face stunned as secret service quickly rush him from the room.