Inauguration Day

A Fable for our Time

Surreal Leaves: Sketch with colored pencils.

Over the next few weeks, I will try to use all 350 words in my poems and stories. I have christened this effort Project 350. It is not affiliated with PEN America. The story in this edition contains one of those words.

pen.org

Federal Government’s Growing Banned Words List Is Chilling Act of Censorship - PEN America

Inauguration Day

When Pauli’s mother asked what he was doing with the encyclopedia, he said, “I saw a fish in Clear Creek, just below the power plant.”

Concern crossed his mother’s face. “You didn’t pick it up, or wade out trying to catch it, did you?”

“No mam.”

“Good. Remember that old man, Mr. Miller?”

“The one who died of a heart attack?” he asked.

“It wasn’t a heart attack. He got a funny idea about eating the fish from Clear Creek and started catching them. He ate a big mess of fish and invited people to join him. Luckily, no one did. The next morning, he was dead.”

“The fish didn’t kill him,” interjected Pauli’s father. “The power company and the corporate leaders said so.”

His mother answered, “Well, if they said so, it must be true. All the same Pauli, don’t go eating fish, or even trying to catch them. Not out of Clear Creek.”

“How did it get the name Clear Creek?” Pauli asked.

“Because the answer is clear to anyone who has any sense. We don’t need any environmentalist telling us about our water!” his father answered.

“What does that mean?” Pauli asked.

“Be quiet, I’m trying to watch the television,” his dad answered. “It’s about time for the inauguration.”

“What book did the new president choose?” asked Pauli’s mother.

“We will find out when the time comes,” his father said.

“I hope he picks a good one,” his mother replied.

“If it’s good enough for the President, it is good enough for me,” answered Pauli’s dad.

“That must be something, to write a book,” chimed in Pauli.

“Don’t get any fool ideas about writing books,” answered his mother.

The words brought Pauli back to his third-grade classroom, where his friend George had written a story about an old man who loved to walk his dog. The teacher had George read the story out loud to the whole class.

He finished the story, and the students applauded before the teacher slammed a book onto her desk. “You may sit down now ‘George,” she imperiously commanded. Before the students’ astonished eyes, she pulled a lighter from her desk and set the two-page manuscript aflame. “There are plenty of books in the library already,” she exclaimed. “No need to write more of them. This country needs soldiers and factory workers, not writers, and particularly not low-class writers like you, George. Be a good soldier and remember your destiny.” George never wrote another story.

The teacher thought, I am thankful to have a role in keeping the barbarians from our borders. We give up a little freedom now to preserve our values and our nation.

Pauli remembered how other students made up songs or stories over the years. Some had even created drawings or simple sculptures. They were always careful to keep this work hidden. The teachers quickly destroyed any of this art that came to their attention.

Then he remembered sixth grade, just last year, when they took the first battery of standardized tests. Pauli finished the questions rapidly but stared nervously at the blank page, with the words “Use this space for anything you like.” He thought it best to leave the page blank.

He noticed that two girls were busily drawing on the blank page. Shelbi drew an intricate set of interlocking gears and a figure of a slender woman in an elegant dress. He noticed that she was copying the photograph of one of the corporate leaders whose pictures adorned the walls of all classrooms. The other girl, Birn, drew pictures of musical instruments and a bird.

Later that week, a man and a woman in dark suits arrived in an official car. A limousine pulled up behind this car, and a woman wearing the elegant clothing of a corporate official emerged. All three entered the building, the elegantly dressed woman first.

The classroom intercom crackled to life, and the voice of a school official instructed Birn to report to Conference Room A.

The class grew silent when the elegantly dressed woman entered their room and addressed Shelbi. “I am here on corporate business and would like to speak with you. Please accompany me to Conference Room B.”

A half hour later, the teacher informed her students that their classmates were departing. She pointed to the open blinds. Shelbi and the elegantly dressed woman entered the limousine, which exited the parking area. The license plate said DESIGN1.

One minute later, the man and woman in dark suits exited the building. The woman firmly grasped Birn’s arm as they escorted her to the official car. The man opened the back door, and Birn entered. He firmly closed that door, walked to the other side, and entered the driver’s door. The woman entered the passenger side. The car sped off to an unknown destination.

The teacher looked at the computer screen on her desk and said, “Your classmate Shelbi has been selected for social promotion. She will now attend a special school with advanced training. She is destined for corporate leadership.” A week later, a photograph of Shelbi, wearing the elegant clothing of a corporate leader, would appear on the classroom wall.

A girl who sat near the back of the room asked, “Where is Birn going?”

The teacher replied, “Birn has failed to adjust to her station in life. She has been transferred to a residential school where she will receive special help. Remember your future roles. Our society needs factory workers, soldiers, mothers, and office girls.

The teacher always reminded them to remember their station in life and thank God for the corporations and the fine school they provided the students for learning practical skills. “A few of your fellow worker students will show special skills as they grow up, and when one corporation or another discovers their ability, they will be rewarded with a social promotion to one of the corporate schools for skilled students.

Be thankful for their blessings, but remember, all of you are destined for life as a soldier, factory worker, mother, or office girl.” Girls were reminded to remember the special bonus paid for childbirth. Each time they gave birth to a healthy baby, they would receive a cash payment. Their sons would become fine soldiers, protecting the nation from the menace at home and abroad.

The television interrupted Pauli’s train of thought with a flourish of trumpets. He watched the inauguration with his family. The new president raised his right hand to honor the corporate officials gathered to watch the ceremony and placed his left on a leather-bound copy of The Fountainhead.

The television announcer informed the viewers at home that the new president had selected this book because it demonstrated how strongly he supported the freedoms and rights of the corporations, as provided for in the New Constitution, including the Second Amendment in the Corporate Bill of Rights which affirmed their right to maintain private security forces and militias. He spoke of how this right had been secured for corporations and their militias at the second constitutional convention.

Members of the corporate militias stood at attention as an honor guard for the ceremony. The patch emblazoned on their uniforms proclaimed Pax Romana, 2032. No one needed a reminder of the importance of that date when two militias joined the payroll of the Corporations and began enforcing the perpetual martial law, declared by President Smith and never rescinded.

The inauguration happened on the first Monday in September, Corporate Freedom Day. It was the day the delegates from the cooperating states signed the Second Constitution. A few states had boycotted the proceedings, but the officials of these recalcitrant states eventually saw the light and joined the Republic, created at the Second Constitutional Convention.

The television announcer reminded the viewers at home of the importance of Corporate Freedom Day, formerly known as Labor Day, but renamed to honor the truly important members of society and discourage the evils of trade unionism. It took place on the steps of Industry Hall, constructed shortly after the Second Constitutional Convention at which the delegates had crafted the Second Constitution and the Corporate Bill of Rights. These documents guaranteed Freedom of Speech and Religious Freedom for Corporations, including the right to promote specific religious beliefs in the workplace and the corporate-sponsored schools.

The reporter also reminded the viewers at home that the Corporate Delegates had gathered as the Electoral College at Industry Hall just a few weeks ago to select the new President. The Electoral College also selected the members of the Supreme Court, prominently seated at the proceedings.

Several corporate officials and members of the legislature appeared in the audience. The Senators were, of course, selected by their respective state legislatures. The announcer reminded the viewers at home that this provision had appeared in the First Constitution many years ago and had now been restored at the Second Constitutional Convention.

Members of the House of Representatives were elected by popular vote of all landowning citizens. Each citizen cast one vote for each parcel of land they owned. Corporations cast one vote for each home they provided to their employees at a “nominal fee.”.

A banner hanging from the second story of Industry Hall proclaimed, “Freedom for Corporations.” After the President had taken the oath of office, the camera panned to a building to the right. The commentator reminded the viewers at home that this was the Executive Church, at which any corporate leaders who happened to be in the capital worshiped on religious holidays. A neon sign proclaimed, “God Wants You to be Rich.”

The commentator did not mention the Workers Church, two blocks away. A banner hung from its steeple proclaimed, “Be fruitful and multiply.” Someone had scrawled graffiti on the wall of this church, which read, “If God wanted you to be rich, He would have made you clever.” Although graffiti was normally not tolerated and immediately removed, these words escaped removal. They were beginning to fade but would soon be repainted by a mysterious person.

As the ceremony concluded, Pauli said, “I’m nervous dad.” He was very nervous about his new perceptions of his friend Franci, but could not address this when his father asked, “What’s the problem, son.”

Thinking quickly, he said, “I’m nervous about school starting tomorrow. We take more of those standard tests this year.”

His dad replied, “The standardized tests are nothing to sweat. You will do fine if you do your best. Remember this. You are a good soldier. You do your bit for the Corporations and your country.”

In another part of the city, a shadowy figure entered an alley and descended a flight of stairs to unlock a door and enter a basement. The hooded person placed an empty cloth sack in a cabinet and quickly changed into street clothing. Only he, she, or they knew the location of this illegal print shop.

After the inaugural ceremony ended, the streets were soon busy with traffic. A bouquet of stickers had bloomed on windows and lampposts. The black letters on a white background held one word: “RESIST.”

My latest book, It’s Just a Phase, is still available from Walnut Street Publishing and any retailer who does business with Ingram Content Group. Search for ISBN 9798990979024