House Divided

Without the fanfare of “All hail America”, Brett blurted, “Everything has changed. They have taken away our liberties.” “What are you saying?” Saul Bergman scowled at his friend. The abrupt start of their much delayed, and apparently anxiously anticipated discussion, was disconcerting, especially inside his own apartment. Brett’s face was etched with anguish. “Our liberties - they have taken them away. We are no longer free.” “How can you say that?” Saul was angry. He had no idea what prompted Brett’s words. He did not want to hear his friend continue the conversation. One never knew where cameras or microphones might be hidden in search of terrorists. Detecting terrorists, especially in apartment buildings, required some loss of privacy if the citizens of the USA were to prevail. “We are free.” “No we are not,” Brett replied in a conspiratorial whisper. “Everything we do is dictated by the Government. We make no choices of our own.” “You need to stop that kind of talk. It borders on sedition.” Saul furtively looked around, fearful that someone might be listening to the conversation, even in the privacy of his own apartment. Latiasha was visiting with Gwen at the Stamos’ apartment so he and Brett could have the private talk the Forester had requested. He was more than glad that their wives were not in earshot. “It’s the truth. They have taken away all our liberties.” “STOP IT! I don’t want to hear anymore of that.” Saul turned his body to indicate he did not want to continue the discussion. “Saul! Damn it! I have proof,” Brett said too loudly. He aped Saul’s paranoid search of the area as he reached to touch the man’s forearm. He needed Saul’s help. He was desperate. And he appeared to be losing it. He could lose even more if Saul valued his citizenship higher than their friendship. “Proof of what? That everything we need in life is available to us? That our lives are complete without onerous struggle?” “That we have no choice but to do as we are told.” Brett knew his friend would not continue much longer. The fear of discovery was strong. With forceful finality, Saul replied to his younger friend, “Our choice is simple; live our lives and enjoy them. What other choice would you ask?” The question did not allow the moment of closure Saul wanted. Brett responded, his own anger growing, “The liberty to live my life the way I want it.” Saul rolled his eyes. “And what other way would you want to live your life? You have the same food and shelter as all other citizens. You have a mate you love and the right to have a child to leave as your legacy. That is all there is to life.” “And die before age sixty because I lack the status and station to get medical care,” Brett stated with emphasis. The old farmer’s words synched with Gwen’s concerns too closely to be happenstance. Saul was stunned by the comment. Again he checked his surroundings. He moved closer to Brett and whispered, “What makes you say that?” Brett felt as though he had finally gotten his friend’s attention. “Name one person you know who is over sixty years old.” Without hesitation, Saul replied, “President Maklua. She’s seventy-five.” He knew the answer was not satisfactory as soon as the words rolled off his tongue. “A person; not a politician.” Brett waited. Saul tried to deflect the impact of the question. “I don’t hang with older folks. That’s all.” He reflected on his own parents who had died near their sixtieth birthdays. His grandparents were gone before he was born, both sets. Brett leaned closer, “Because there are none except politicians and their hangers-on.” “Rubbish!” Saul had no viable response. He was concerned about his young friend’s comments. It was not safe to say the things Brett was saying. It was not safe to hear the things Brett was saying. One logical question required airing. “What is driving you to say these things?” Brett realized that his paranoia had driven him to jump squarely into the middle of his thoughts without offering any background for his concerns. He took a deep breath. “I found something, some books. They are over a hundred years old. They show how things are supposed to be, how the United States used to be.” Saul stared at Brett. He sought to shake the younger man with prolonged silence. Brett’s immediate response was to avert his eyes, but slowly the Forester’s brown eyes fixed on Saul’s. Saul saw the resolve in his friend’s face; the determination to pursue the subject. “What kind of books?” The Instructor knew the Forester might have found a lost stash of fiction novels and misinterpreted them to be reality. He hoped that was the case. That would make the meeting short and simple. Brett was relieved. Saul knew how get to the point; the point where he should have started. “Encyclopedias. They are from the 1960s.” Saul held his emotions in check. “Where did you find them?” “In an old cellar that was revealed when the storm uprooted a huge tree.” “The one you told us about?” “Yes.” “You did not report it to the authorities?” Brett gulped. “No. I was curious.” “And your curiosity has made you an enemy of the State.” Brett was startled by Saul’s statement. He knew that what he had done could brand him a criminal; he did not consider keeping books to be anything more than a criminal act. “How does that make me an enemy of the State?” he asked defensively. “By saying the State has taken away liberties.” Saul replied emphatically. “That is neither fair nor honest speech. When a citizen fails to comply with the law, that is the very definition of sedition.” The Forester saw the disdain in his mentor’s eyes. Brett recognized the staunch stance of his former sergeant. Saul was not going to offer further help. The stakes were too high. The Instructor was not going to be party to what he had done. Saul wanted to hear no more. Brett’s shoulders drooped. “What should I do?” He realized that the only way Saul could protect himself and Latiasha was to contact the authorities. Blood drained from his face. Saul studied his friend for sincerity. The fear was evident, but he could not discern the cause of the fear. Was the Forester afraid of the consequences for his actions or was he afraid because of what he had read? There was no obvious way for the Instructor to determine the root cause of the fear. “Keep your mouth shut and forget you ever saw the books. Are they well hidden?” Brett’s heart beat faster. He did not want to reveal any more than he already had. He regretted saying anything to Saul. He had truly thought he could trust Saul; that Saul would offer advice rather than ignore what he had learned. He was not so sure anymore. “No one will ever find them without me to guide them,” he replied with as much confidence as he could muster. He hoped his words exonerated Gwen. “Good.” Saul dismissed the subject with his response.