Aaron: the fall of America. by Joanne B. Washington. John Rah RF36 Future Fiction making history of Science Fiction

aaron_the fall of america_chapter_46


Chapter 46

When I woke, the television was on and I lay in bed alone. It took a few minutes to get my bearings. There was a note on the next pillow that read: Back soon. Love Lanna.

When I returned from the bathroom and sat back in bed, the news was on. Left-wing extremists from Cuba were suspected in the killing of two tourists and the serious injuring of five more. The police have apprehended the gang and all twelve would be tried for dissidence.

There was an interview with one of the victims. He had come out of a bar with some of his business associates and was attacked by these evil, heavily armed men. One by one they had been beaten and left to die on the street. He said that when one wasn't free to walk on the streets of Key West, something had to be done.

That something was our military. It had sent a message to Cuba that all convicted terrorists would be publicly executed.

I almost believed what they were saying before I recognised the second man that they interviewed. I had held that head in my hands and had spoken to it.

The door opened and Lanna came in with a bag of food.

"Good morning, my lover."

"You're up early," I said.

She threw the bag on the bed and took her clothes off. She wanted sex again before we ate. She wanted it again after we ate. I suspected she was secret service and was trying to kill me.

"We are leaving this afternoon."

"If I wasn't too much inconvenience, I'd like to go a little way north."

"We can take you to Miami, if the girls don't mind. We take the car back to the airport and fly."

"That would help very much."

Though I thought Lanna was one of the best things that happen to me in a long time, I thought that I wanted very much to be doing what I had to do. I wasn't sure what I had to do but it included seeing Shelly once more, maybe seeing Bob once more and finding a way to see my teacher, who I couldn't remember, once more.

I hoped that I would somehow accept my life as Aaron if I could trace back Eddy. I liked Aaron better than Eddy. Eddy's pleasant side was little different than Aaron's but his angry side, his rougher side, that thing that raged in me, that wasn't mine, that I seemed to have no control over; it was not something I wanted to live with.

I felt like I had just been punched in the stomach.

"Yes, Sir."

"What?"

"Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Of what?"

"I'm not sure. Something startled me."

"It was the car door slamming."

"Didn't you have a bag?" one of Lanna's friends asked.

"I did. But I think it was stolen."

"Did you call the police."

"I don't think there was anything important in it."

As we pulled out of the motel parking lot, I noticed the owner of the motel, the nodding old man, was curious about me. But as we drove out of sight he was still nodding and would likely keep nodding until he forgot what he was nodding about and never reach a decision about what he thought about me.

The drive from Key West to Key Largo over the endless bridges was beautiful to see. I had no desire to talk and Lanna seemed content to have me hold her. Though there was no direction in common for us to travel after the day was over, I felt I would never forget her and hoped she would always remember me fondly. I wanted to tell her that but didn't think it would sound right coming out of my mouth. I just held her a little tighter and hoped she would know.

From endless water to endless highway. Some of it struck me as bombastic artwork. Much more impressive and more significant than some of the feeble modern works that only city art galleries bought out of tax payers’ money. There was form following motion. Some sequences of over-passes were boldly orange. It gave me a since of striving tragedy. A energetic people that had no direction. No point.

I was kissing Lanna good-bye. She was trying not to cry. I was trying not to be disassociated with my surroundings. She was waving as she walked away. I waved and tried to smile. I wanted to fall into a hole. The struggle was too much.



read on. book_04 chapter_47



by Joanne B. Washington

© 2001 | the jose wombat project