William Johnstone - Phoenix Rising

Charley was busily digging up sand crabs. When he found one he would jerk it up out of the hole, then throw it. More often than not he would watch the crab scurry away quickly, then go to another hole to start the process all over again.

“Nothing has changed for you, has it, Charley Dog? As far as you are concerned, your world is still Ellen, me, this beach, and the sand crabs. You’re not worried that I’m not writing anymore, or that my Army retirement and Social Security checks have stopped.”

Charley came over to Bob and reared up, putting his front two feet on Bob’s legs. Bob reached down and rubbed him behind the ears for a moment.

“Go find another crab,” he said, and Charley took off on his mission.

Although normally at this time of the year the beach would be crowded with summer people, it was empty now. Bob wasn’t surprised. Vacations cost money and with the cost of gasoline today—that is, when you could even find gasoline—it would be prohibitive for any family to make the long drive.

There were twenty-two houses in The Dunes compound. The houses that sat right on the beach were all huge, multimillion-dollar homes. Normally rented in the summer time, they were all empty now, as was every other house in The Dunes, except for the three houses that were occupied by permanent residents. Bob was a permanent resident and his house was on the third row, approximately three hundred yards from the beach.

In addition to the houses, there were two seven-story condominiums, The Dunes and The Indies. Not one unit in either of the two large condominiums was occupied. One mile farther down was Fort Morgan, an historic old fort that was built just after the War of 1812.

Bob turned toward the surf and shouted at the top of his voice. “It is I, Robinson Crusoe. Where is everyone?”

Charley came running back to him and looked up with a quizzical expression on his face.

“You think I’m losing my mind, do you, Charley Dog?” Bob asked. He shook his head. “No, I’m not losing my mind. I’m just losing my will.

“My will to what? Survive? No, I’ll not lose my will to survive. I survived three combat tours as a helicopter pilot in Vietnam. If I could deal with long strings of green tracer rounds coming toward me, to say nothing of air-bursting flak, then I can damn well deal with what we are facing now.

“I think.

“Come on, Charley, I’m tired of walking. Be a good dog and lay a couple of turds for me so we can head back to the house.”

Almost as if responding to Bob’s request, Charley hunkered down to do his business. Once completed, he looked at his deposit as if proud of it, then came over to Bob to await the treat that was his reward for performance. Bob gave him a treat, then dug a hole in the sand and pushed Charley’s effort into it. He used to pick it up in a plastic bag, then drop the bag in the trash can, but that was when Baldwin County was still picking up trash.

Due to fuel concerns , the letter from Baldwin County waste disposal said, we will no longer be making our regular trash pickup. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.

“You apologize,” Bob said when he got the notice. “Well, as long as you apologize, I’m sure it will be all right.”

They walked back on the boardwalk between the USA and Dreamweaver houses to the golf cart that was parked on the road. Charley ran to the cart, then jumped up on the seat.

Seeing Charley do this, exactly as he had done for the last ten years, Bob felt a lump in his throat. How he envied Charley’s ignorance of the fact that everything was coming down around them.

He glanced at his watch. If he was going to get back home in time to watch George Gregoire, he was going to have to hurry.

Hello, America.

Last Friday we heard Mehdi Ohmshidi take the unprecedented act of declaring himself dictator of this nation. He did this with something called “the Enabling Act.” Let me give you a history lesson. On March 23, 1933, the German Reichstag met in Berlin to consider passing a law that would end democracy in Germany, and establish the legal dictatorship of Adolph Hitler. This act was called the Enabling Act. It did pass, Hitler became dictator of Germany, and we all know what happened.

Is it just ironic coincidence that Ohmshidi chose the same name?

But, not to worry. The Enabling Act is clearly a violation of the United States Constitution, so the Supreme Court will overturn it. Right?

Not so fast. We now know that within moments after Ohmshidi made his announcement Friday night, the Supreme Court did meet in emergency session to consider the constitutionality of this new law.

What did they decide?

They decided nothing. They couldn’t decide because before they even convened, federal agents descended upon the Supreme Court and took every justice of the Supreme Court into what is being called protective custody.

Who did this ?

Not the FBI, not the CIA, not the Homeland Security. By dictatorial fiat, those agencies no longer exist. No, the arresting officers, we are told, belong to the newly organized agency, the State Protective Service.

A spokesman for the SPS has stated that the justices are not under arrest, but have been moved to an undisclosed site for their own safety. While there, the spokesman added, the justices will participate in a conference during which the details of the Enabling Act will be discussed.

America, we are seeing, before our very eyes, the total destruction of our republic. Misguided voters, thinking it would be cool to vote a naturalized American into office, flocked to the polls to show the rest of the world what an unbiased and open-minded nation we are. They voted for this man without really knowing anything about him.

And now, we are about to pay the piper.

The telephone rang and Ellen answered it.

“Hello? Oh, Tim, hi, sweetheart. Yes, he’s here. Okay, just a minute.”

Ellen brought the phone over to Bob. “Tim wants to talk to you,” she said.

“Hello, Tim, what’s up?” Bob asked.

“You were right, Dad,” Tim said. His voice was low and obviously strained.

“Right about what?”

“About everything,” Tim said. “How could I have ever been such a fool to vote for this man?”

“If it is any consolation to you, you aren’t the only one. He is president because more people voted for him than against him. That’s the way democracy works. Or at least, that is the way it used to work. After his Enabling Act, and some of the other things he’s done, I don’t know.”

“Dad, I’ve pulled all your money out of the market,” Tim said. “Mine too.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been in this business for ten years,” Tim said. “I can read the signs. The way things are going, the stock market isn’t going to last another year. I’m not sure it’s going to last another month.”

“But the market keeps going up,” Bob said.

“Yes, it keeps going up, but the real value is plummeting. I’m going to do an electronic transfer of the money to your bank.”

“How much is it?”

Tim chuckled. “It’s a little over one and a half million,” he said.

“Whoa, that’s pretty good, isn’t it? Last time I checked it was a little under three hundred thousand.”

“I wish I could say that it was good, but the only thing it means is that money is losing its value faster than we can keep track.”

“Tim, wait, don’t do an electronic transfer,” Bob said. “I won’t be able to get it out of the bank. I can’t draw out any more than ten thousand dollars at a time.”

Tim laughed. “You haven’t been keeping up, have you?”