*CAUTION: The following content has graphic language and themes of political takeover. Reader discretion is advised. This is a work of fiction.*

New World Disorder.

  After getting dressed, Mary and I walked into the living room, where Kenny’s mother was sitting on the floor as if in a trance. She was in a parka; three cards laid in front of her. Her raven black hair, with strains of gray threatening, was loose. Kenny’s mother was full-blooded Creek Indian. She had her eyes closed, her hands folded, as if praying. Kenny and Elizabeth walked in after us, and stopped right behind us. We all just stared, wandering what she was going to do next, if anything. “Why are we staring at the redskin nigger?” asked Mary, “Ow!” she hissed after we heard a smack, it was from Kenny.

 “That’s my mom,” he hissed.
 “Show some respect, Mary. Creeks have visions and she has helped us a lot,” I whispered, “Hitler even had some spiritual guidance,” 
 Silence struck us like a Blitzkrieg. I bent a little closer, to see if she was awake or not. She continued to stay stock still like a statue. I waved my hands in front of her. Nothing.
  Suddenly, Dusty came running from behind us and tackled her down, and the four of us started to laugh as she waved him off, cursing at him in both English and Creek. She finally pushed him off of her as we all sat down.
 “Damn dog,” she huffed. She looked around and her dark eyes landed on Mary, and didn’t leave. She was studying her. “You’re new,”
 Mary slowly nodded. There is something about being under her gaze that paralyzed you; I could see it having that effect on Mary now.
 “Uh, she’s with me. My new girlfriend,” I interrupted.
  Kenny’s mother blinked, “So you’re the new noise maker,”
  Mary blushed, “That would be me,”
 “I heard louder,”
 “Smart ass,” I smirked.
“I maybe old, but I know great love makers when I hear them,” she looked over at me. “Even more when the heart isn’t in it,”
I felt my face get hot. I looked over at Kenny and then Mary. “It’s hard to compete when the competition use sheep bladder as condoms,”
 “I’m Creek, not Greek,” he retorted.
 “I’m glad you’re here, Shane. Look at my Tarot cards I pulled for you,”
 I looked at the cards, I had no idea what they were, nor the meanings. When I looked up Kenny, Mary and Elizabeth were gone. It’s like it’s just me and this old Indian woman.
  “You’re not over Catherine, are you?” she asked.
  “What?” I asked defensively.
  “You’re not making love with this Mary, you only did that to Catherine, and you only could with her. You killed her two cousins on purpose, and that purpose was to try to kill the love you have for her,” she went into that trance-like tone again. I really hated that. “Give me your hand, Shane,” she ordered and I obeyed.
I felt the coldness of her hands as she traced my palms.
 “Breaking up with Catherine never happened, did it?” she asked and I quickly shook my head. “She was gone by forces out of her control. The Fates have something special in store for you two. The Lovers and The Devil mark a love leaving and returning. But it is you who has to return,” and she opened her eyes, gazing at me. “You know what you have to do,”

 “Not really,” I said. I felt a smack; it was her smacking me, and a glimpse entered my mind’s eye. A slender yet curvy, tanned skin beauty danced in front of me. It was of Catherine.
 Is it true? Does the minds’ eye deceive me? Did I see Catherine, my one dark secret? But what does it mean? How can I return to her?


    Fine Mahogany wood were laced together to make sturdy walls, an American flag hung in a corner, the carpet was smoothest I ever glided across, a long hardwood table with a Plexiglas plate over it as a coaster with leather chairs. This boardroom was very businesslike, yet ravishing in more ways than I could mention. There was a subtle fragrance of importance in the air. It should be, it is a boardroom that holds meetings for the president of the United States. It’s one of the few board rooms that are not in the White House.
 I looked across the table at the vice president; he had balding gray hair, no facial hair and a self-dignified look to him that was intensified by his power business suit. His looks alone was bred to be in politics. And to think here I was in faded blue jeans and a Skrewdriver T-shirt. At least my hair was pulled back out of my face. I was dozing in and out as Tom was rambling on with a fatally flawed plan to ‘cleanse America’. I slightly turned my head to see a large man standing, arms folded. Vincent Valentino has been the Alliance’s muscle for the past fifteen years. The guy is strong as an ox, I once seen him crush a Cubans’ skull in Miami with his bare hands. Near the door he remained silent, quite opposite than he normally is, and dressed in a black suit with his hands folded in front of him and thick sun glasses over his eyes. He blended in really well with Secret Service.

 I looked back to Tom and Vice President Jerry White. The only way I could think of Tom getting a meeting with the vice president like this, with only Vincent as security, must meant these two went back a few years. Finally, Tom stopped talking and all eyes turned to me. This is where I should have paid attention. “Anything to add, Shane?” Tom asked in a sly way.
 “Say what?” were the first words to escape my lips. Truth be told I was still thinking about what Kenny’s mother told me just a few days earlier.
 Tom glared at me and turned to the vice president, “My apologies, Jerry. Shane here is still young in this field, but I assure you he is a brilliant young man who can get the young voters on your side. Look at him, he’s the perfect poster boy for the Aryan future,”
 “Tom, with all due respect, shut up,” I came back weakly and then yawned.
 “What!” Tom barked.
 “Relax, Tom,” said the smooth voice of the vice president. I looked over to see Vice President Jerry White beaming me a smile, “I like this kids’ attitude, maybe he can tell me what the hell you been babbling about,”
 “Finally,” I huffed. “You see, Tom’s theory is flawed, deeply,”
 “How so?” curiously probed the vice president.
 “Unknown to Tom here, there is quite a number of white families living in the projects. Instead of using the methods that Hitler and Stalin used, and failed, we should use subliminal elimination and outrage. If you make the people feel unsafe and unsure they will trust you more. Those who would trade freedom for protection deserve neither,”
 Tom seemed impressed, “Yes, just as Benjamin Franklin predicted,”
 The vice president’s eyebrows raised. He seemed to like what he was hearing. Subliminal outrage creates a gateway to a total takeover.
 I pressed on, “Thomas Jefferson said that our liberty depends on the freedom of the press. Well the answer there is to simply buy out the press,”
 Tom and the vice president shared an uneasy glance but I waved them down.
 “No, not the news press, though that is part of it. Rap music is the livelihood of street gangs and their affiliated actions. If we buy out the record companies we can control rap. If we contaminate it and take out all gang affiliation and make the music too poppy, then not only will its popularity decrease, but so will street gang’s morale. They will either go back to mob mentality and kill their adversaries or themselves in even more record numbers,”
 The vice president looked confused, so I went a different route.
 “What we need to do is not eliminate the projects, but increase them and replace it as jails. Then we send all the gangs from the prisons to those projects and fence it in. This is a risky operation but there is still a shot to eliminate that gang problem. People will be crying foul, mostly the civil rights crybabies,”

 The vice president nods, “There is no good war or a bad peace,”
 “More founding fathers quotes?” huffed Tom.
  “It’s a double meaning, Tom. Make them feel safe and steal their freedoms,”
  Looks like he’s seeing where I was going. “You should control the media so no one is able to see what you’re doing. Make propaganda more subliminal. Make those in the ghetto feel they are there for a good reason. They will start to turn on each other like dogs in a kennel,”
 “Kill them with themselves,” wondered the vice president out loud. “Similar to how we canceled all passports,”
  Now it was my turn to be confused, “What you mean canceled all passports?”
 They both looked at me, as if surprised I didn’t know.

  “Where you been, Shane? Two years ago if anyone left the country they aren’t allowed back. A family of spics almost got into America by using our password,” explained Tom.
 Then it hit me. Catherine hasn’t come back because she legally couldn’t! “Are we Russia now?”
 The vice president laughed. “Russia? Good heavens no,”
 I blinked again. “When did all this happen?”
  “Quite a while ago,”
 “Now the only thing to stop you guys is Congress,”
 “Congress aren’t going to deny us anymore,” Vice President White grinned,
 “How you going to go against all of Congress?” I blurted out.
  “The obituaries have been very resourceful the past few months,”
 “The assassinations,” I recalled. Lately, a few key players in Congress and virtually all non-white Senators have been ‘mysteriously’ assassinated. “With the Media in your back pocket you can keep your tracks covered. Clever, very clever. So the spics have been banished to where ever they come from, the niggers are going to be killing themselves, and the chinks never do anything anyway,” I nodded, very impressed.
 “We are changing the entire makeup of America overnight!” bragged Tom. “And you have helped more then you ever known,”
 I hesitated. “My honor is to my race,”


   Catherine was standing in front of me, but she was not how I remembered her. Her eyes pleading for me, as her mouth was sewn shut, her hands bound together. She was in ripped and tattered clothing, half-naked, on her knees. She looked unwashed and unclean. Her mouth was sewn shut but in my head I could hear her screams.
 “Treason Prevention Act! Treason Prevention Act!” it rang through my head, louder and louder. I shield my ears to no avail. “You did this to your true love, Shane! YOU!”

 “NO! I never loved outside my race! I am an Aryan Barbarian! A white warrior! I didn’t make any acts!” I yelled, but to what or who I do not know.

 “Shane… come back to me, Shane, come back!” her sweet voice rang. Her tortured body withered in front of me. But she shown no pain as I yelled in agony. Her words seared through my flesh and mind.

   I woke up suddenly and looked around. My heart raced to my ears, my head throbbed with each beat as my vision went blurry. I was covered in sweat; My heart calmed itself, as I was able to look in my bed, seeing Mary beside me, naked as she always is. Maybe sex before sleep gives me nightmares, or maybe the Fates warning has become the Fates doing. I stumbled out of bed naked. I scanned the moon lit room and walked to the window. I took a deep breath and looked up at the bright full moon.
 Why am I wishing Catherine is there? With my brilliance, in several months there will be no more race mixing, no more gangs on the streets. But still I felt something missing. Something important. Something is upsetting the Fates. I looked into the stars, hoping they would give me an answer. I don’t know anymore. Maybe Kenny’s mother was right. Am I supposed to return to a land I never roamed? Rekindle a flame? By the Fates doing, I have to break my own laws.