Kyle Pratt - Through Many Fires

Caden walked slowly from the office. He had done the right thing, but wasn’t pleased with how it went. What he wanted to do was talk with Maria. The phones were available only for local calls during the day. He had tried last night, but didn’t connect. He longed to be back there, to hear Maria’s voice. Even the sound of Adam crying would be welcome right now. Becky was wrong, he did have a son and he was pretty sure there would be more children, but not with her.

He looked out a nearby window. The shadows that stretched across the plaza said he was late. A quick check of his watch confirmed it. He shook his head and hurried down the hall. By now the emergency session of the legislature had begun.

As he passed the grand staircase of the capitol he saw half-a-dozen Guardsman with M4s in the lobby. Evidently expecting trouble, their attention was focused on the entryway. Beyond them, just outside, he saw Becky through the glass doors as she hurried down the steps.

Caden continued to the House chamber gallery. Two state patrol officers stood watch at the entrance. No one would be foolish enough to try and arrest Governor Monroe here. He opened the door and stepped in.

The gallery was full of reporters, officials and apparently average citizens. Caden found a seat at the back. Ten or more people on the chamber floor were attempting to speak. After several moments the Speaker pounded his gavel.

Governor Monroe raised his arm, asking for silence. When the room was somewhat quiet he began. “By getting the video, David, my chief of staff, has accomplished what I have been trying to do. He showed the people that President Durant is moving the nation in the wrong direction. Durant has sacrificed freedom for security and sovereignty for food.

“However, just pointing that out is not enough. We need to show the country the right direction—that we can have both security and freedom. While it may be hard, we can recover with our sovereignty intact.

“We can restart the economy here in the Northwest and across the nation with just short term aid and no foreign troops. However, if we can’t do that, then I will end my campaign and, if Durant still wants it, I’ll surrender for arrest.”

The gallery and chamber floor erupted in shouts of “No,” and “Never.”

Monroe scanned the crowd. “Thank you, but the fact remains that either my vision for the future is right, and America follows me, or it is wrong and I must face the consequences.”

A delegate asked to speak and was recognized. “President Durant wants to arrest our governor because he is the voice, the personification, of the opposition, but it is not because he opposes Durant, that I support Governor Monroe. I back him because he believes in the founding principles of our nation.”

Another representative jumped to his feet. “Yes. Exactly. This is about what kind of nation we are going to be.” He turned and looked at Monroe. “This isn’t just about you Governor, but only you can be the voice of it.”

Caden had studied Locke, Jefferson, Tocqueville and others while in college, but the role of government had always remained a philosophical question, something discussed late in the evening over drinks with friends. This was not such a casual discussion. This was a turning point, a precursor to civil war. Some would go down the winning road; others would, as Reagan once said, ‘end up on the ash heap of history.’

Even with the delegates from metro Seattle dead, injured or scattered, the debate was contentious and went on for hours, but before it was gaveled to a close, two-thirds of the legislature backed Governor Monroe. Washington State would appoint new senators to congress, hold elections as scheduled in November and the state would not endorse the Sino-American Treaty of Friendship or the new Most Favored Nation trade agreement.

Caden buttoned his coat as he stepped into the cold night air. The multitude of delegates and observers streamed past him out of the building. He sympathized with those who had just pledged their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor. But I need to talk with everyone at home before…before what? Before I get myself arrested or perhaps killed fighting the mightiest army on the planet. Glancing at his watch, he shook his head. It’s late…early really…I’ll get some sleep and head home in the morning. He walked down the steps of the capitol and proceeded across the plaza toward a hotel that was serving as officer’s quarters. He was in that no-man’s land of darkness between the lights of the capitol and the hotel when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Major Westmore, we need to talk.”

Caden turned and, as they approached, could discern the faces of General Collins, the JBLM base commander who ordered Maria’s release and then kicked both of them off the base and Adjutant General Harwich of the Washington Guard. He both cringed and saluted. What now?

They were all going to the hotel, but talked little until they were inside. There, in General Harwich’s room, they talked for several hours.

After leaving the two generals he lay on the bed thinking about the events of the day. Sleep came grudgingly.

On the drive back to Hansen he yawned repeatedly, but not out of boredom. The uneventful trip allowed too much time for weighty thoughts. Memories of combat came to mind. Destruction, blood and death…could all of that be coming here? He prayed that Durant would change course, allow elections, and a new congress.

The sun had not yet peeked above the trees as Caden pulled up the long driveway to home. Sue sat under a light on the porch with a shotgun across her lap. With the windows rolled up and the bouncing of the car on the dirt driveway, he couldn’t hear her announce his arrival, but he could see it. His mother and father came out on the porch and Maria stepped from the barn carrying what, at first, looked like a rake or shovel.

Stopping the car, Caden hesitantly stepped out. Maria was running toward him with a smile on her face, but with a pitchfork in her hand. Only as she neared did she drop it and throw her arms around him.

They held each other tight.

“I was…we were worried.”

He nodded. “I missed you. I tried to call, but couldn’t get through.”

“What kept you away?” she finally asked.

“There’s a lot going on.”

As they turned to walk back to the house Maria retrieved the pitchfork.

Gesturing toward it, Caden asked, “What’s up with that?”

“When I go to collect eggs the rooster has been getting aggressive. The two of us are going to have a little chat.”

Caden laughed. “Talk to him later. I need to speak with everyone.”

Trevor rubbed his unshaven face. “You really think war is coming?”

“I hope not, but if President Durant won’t allow elections, or accept the new congress then, I think, war is likely.”

“Everything you’ve told us this morning…the Chinese carving out a sphere of influence on the west coast, Durant controlling the media and trying to arrest dissenters….” Trevor shook his head. “I’ve been frustrated with the way this country has been going for years, but…well, what can we do about it?”

“That’s the thing I need everyone to understand.” One at a time, Caden looked at each member of his family. “Hansen is a small town, out of the way. I can’t imagine that anything will happen here, but it could, and I’ve been ordered to make contingency plans and increase readiness.”

Maria looked concerned. “What does that mean?”

“Get the armory ready to fight.”

“No,” his mother said resolutely.

“People are going hungry,” Sue said. “Medicine is in short supply. Why are we talking about war?”