Chapter 8
East to Eden
Twice retired general Payleigh Surfrider sat next to lieutenant Justin Costello on the train. They were riding the Amtrak Cardinal express from Washington D.C. to Saint Louis, Missouri. Although general Surfrider was widely recognized as a likely future US president, she was being pursued as a traitor by the current president. She had been lured from retirement by pentagonian joint chiefs to help extricate them from regime change wars. Capitalist bankers and war industry corporatists with sticky fingers who snatch every profit they can from the atrocities of war wanted her in jail so money would keep rolling their way.
“What you call a terrorist is often a person whose family or friends have been killed by us with a drone strike.”
That was what general Surfrider had said just before the president ordered her arrested for treason.
General Payleigh Surfrider’s arresting officer, Justin Costello, had dutifully accepted responsibility for jailing the general. He had escorted her to the elevator bound for white house basement dungeons but had stopped at the tourist exit. They briefly split up and used the tourist restrooms to put their phones and uniform decorations in the trash. Then they left the restrooms and blended in with tourists wandering the nation’s capitol.
Lieutenant Costello led the way to a nearby good used stuff store, where they bought different clothes and small suitcases. With the change of clothing they became civilians indistinguishable in a metropolis carrying on daily business. They left the good used stuff store and rode Metrorail to the Amtrak train station; there they boarded the Amtrak Cardinal to Saint Louis, Missouri.
It took a full twenty-four hours to reach Saint Louis from Washington DC. They were on the southern stretch along the eastern Mississippi shore passing the Saint Louis gateway arch when the train slowed for the old MacArther bridge crossing.
“The Gateway arch looks like half the signs at the fast food place that has sold billions of burgers,” general Surfrider commented as the conductor walked through their car announcing they had reached the end of the line.
“I’ll move to the other side of the train so we can watch both sides of the track,” Justin said and then moved across the aisle to the empty seat beside them. The empty seat had provided extra space so they had each enjoyed a wide bench seat to sleep semi comfortably through the night. Justin had thought ahead and included a light blanket and small pillow in each of their good used stuff suitcases.
Now, in daylight, two fugitives planning to board the next train west were sitting on opposite sides of the train watching for trouble from either direction.
The train was still moving fairly rapidly when general Surfrider saw intercepting agents and military guards. She jerked back from the window and bumped into a train conductor who was looking over her shoulder and out the same window. The conductor handed general Surfrider a pair of latex surgical gloves and tossed a pair to Justin. Two additional conductors entered their car and began moving toward them wiping fingerprints from anything Payleigh or Justin might have touched on their way to the dining car or restrooms.
“We know who you are, General Surfrider,” the nearest conductor said. “We are part of the united rail workers union. Our roots go back almost a century to the Industrial Workers of the World, the IWW, and the Wobblies. We are here to help you exit early on the wrong side. There is another train stopping from the other direction at the same time. Wobbly spirit hopes you make it safely across the next tracks to the other side of the incoming train. That will kill you or save you. It is the best we can do.”
The conductor led them rearward at a brisk pace to the noisy space between railcars. She asked Justin to open the door and warned him not to tear his thin surgical gloves. She pointed to the door latch on the opposite side of the train from where the soldiers were waiting.
“Passengers will be leaving the train two cars forward and two cars back from here.”
They were immersed in the high pitched scream of train brakes and the conductor continued in an almost shouting voice.
“Hit the ground running. There will be less than a minute to decide if you can cross the track and gain the other side of the eastbound train. We need you for president, general Surfrider. Please don’t kill yourself.”
The conductor peeked out the door and stepped back.
“Jump when I say so,” she said. Hit the ground running, roll once. Be sure you have time before running in front of the eastbound capitol express. Please live to fight another day!”
She looked out the door one more time. “The other train is close. It’s now or never.”
Then she stepped back and shouted, “Jump! Hit and roll!”
Justin jumped first and ran a quick few steps before his legs couldn’t keep up; then he tucked and rolled on one shoulder. General Surfrider did the same. They bounced to their feet almost simultaneously, looked at the oncoming train and then each other. They nodded agreement and then jumped down off the passenger platform and onto the tracks directly in front of the oncoming passenger train. Screeching brakes were close and coming closer fast.
The jump was higher than Payleigh expected, she sagged to one knee on the rough gravel and railroad ties. Justin slid one arm under the general’s arms from behind in a stumbling run and lifted her up. She took the opportunity of momentary weightlessness to kick off from the ground with both feet and bound across the tracks. Her weight hurled Justin into a bouncing leap onto the next passenger platform. He then pulled Payleigh onto the platform next to him. They lay still for two or three heaving breaths before the eastbound train flashed over where they had just been. The united industrial workers plan was perfect genius; the eastbound was now between them and the westbound train. They had jumped from capture to freedom and escaped death, all within the flash of seconds.
Payleigh Surfrider and Justin Costello stood up, dusted themselves off, and then walked with the purposeful manner of every train station population they had ever been part of. They went with the flow in the direction they wanted to go; straight to the nearest exit, without looking back. They walked out of the Saint Louis Gateway Station and onto the street like two bobbing corks floating downstream among a million others. A few smooth steps further and they were sitting in the back seat of a taxi parked in front of the station. The taxi drove them to the Saint Louis gateway arch tourist area on the Mississippi river. There were many rivers yet to cross and here on the banks of the mighty Mississippi they found safety in numbers. It was a good time to use the public rest room and wash away accumulated travel grime, they rejoined at the nearby cafe front door.
“Can we afford the time to sit down and have a relaxed breakfast?” Payleigh asked.
“You are the general,” Justin responded. “You should be the one telling me.”
“Are you kidding me?” Payleigh said. “You rescued me from being sedated in a mental institution for old generals who have gone crazy with guilt and remorse.”
Justin laughed and nodded with a broad grin. “Yep,” he responded.
“Yep?” Payleigh said. Is that all you have to say about rescuing me from a dank and moldy white house dungeon and an asylum for mental cases?”
“Yep,” Justin said again with a broad grin.
Their waitress came and asked what they wanted to eat before they could continue.
“Please order first,” Justin said.
“Okay,” General Surfrider responded with a last quick glance at the menu. “Meat has recently dropped back in my diet. “May I have rice, black beans and corn with sautéed vegetables and half an avocado?”
“You may have whatever you wish,” the waitress answered with a smile.
“That sounds good. Bring the same for me, too, please,” Justin said when it was his turn to request a meal.
Payleigh and Justin sat in silence and watched the mighty Mississippi flow quietly by. They had selected a table under an umbrella on the patio and enjoyed the silent ponderous river’s unceasing oneway motion.
“How did meat drop from your diet?” Justin asked?
General Surfrider smiled and let her tensions go with with the flowing river.
“I had not thought about it quite like that until now,” she responded. “Maybe jumping in front of that passenger train opened me up to a new way of thinking. Thank you for saving me twice. There was a moment there when I stumbled and thought I was going to die.”
“Me, too,” Justin said. “That train was still moving fast even though it was breaking for a stop. You were thinking just as fast when you jumped forward as I lifted you up; you almost tossed me. But how does that remind you of no longer eating meat?”
“It’s the trash, chemicals and drugs,” Payleigh responded. ”Plastic bags trash the planet and decompose into estrogen mimics, there are a lot of plastics, chemicals and drugs behind eating meat. Factory fish farming is similarly awful for nature and people when it grows too large.”
“I’ve heard that avoiding meat is better for Earth than driving an electric car,” Justin interjected.
“That’s right,” the General agreed, “Animals raised in meat and fish factories are fed antibiotics in their food, that breeds super germs that endanger people. The entire factory farm process would be illegal except for special laws written in smoke filled backrooms.
"Large-scale corporate agriculture is the problem. It can be communist or capitalist; both have proven a bad deal for people and the planet. vegan or meat doesn't really matter that much. Raising food to raise animals in factories requires government welfare checks for farmers and feedlots. There's probably quite a few better ways. Number one is smaller scale with many more family farm owners.”
“Chief Justice Soulminder said almost the same,” Justin interjected. “She and the trumpeter were saying the same thing while announcing the west coast argument for saving life on Earth from global climate collapse. They were quite a show for the president and the war panel.”
“They were great,” Payleigh agreed. “Just imagine, they rode the all-night red-eye flight so the judge could tell the commander ’n chief about the laws of physics, justice and peace as understood on the pacific coast.”
“Yep,” Justin agreed. “Judge Soulminder laid out the essence of the Nuremberg Principles that were designed at the close of world war two; crimes against peace, crimes against humanity and war crimes are not excused because a person claims to be following a superior’s orders or a nation’s laws.”
Payleigh leaned forward with interest but at that moment they both heard a caller announcing a river boat schedule.
“River trip!” they heard the promoter’s voice call again. “Boarding in twenty minutes. Get your river boat ticket to Kimmswick for a late morning shopping and lunch trip. Last call!”
Payleigh and Justin said “yes” with their eyes and Payleigh signaled for the ticket seller. “We would like two tickets for a shopping trip and river boat ride.”
The ticket seller took their money, handed them tickets and pointed to the boat, “It’s a short walk, be there in twenty minutes,” she said. “Save your ticket stub so you can return with the boat after your shopping trip.”
They ate quickly when their meal came and were about to walk out of the restaurant when a military police caravan arrived and parked almost exactly between them and the river boat. The soldiers were intently searching the crowds but did not pay very much attention to people already on the river boat cruise or on the restaurant patio deck. Payleigh and Justin quietly stepped into a shady area and waited to see what would happen next.
The military police did not intrude in a manner that disturbed the tourist crowds or corporate income, they soon drove on to inspect other locations. Payleigh and Justin left their shadowed observation position as soon as the soldiers were out of sight, they quickly blended with the tourists and walked to the river boat boarding ramp.
Two fugitive tourists boarded the paddle wheel riverboat and kept moving until they were safely out of sight from any passing military patrols. A brief ten minutes more and a steam whistle called the paddle wheeler’s crew to cast off the mooring lines. Justin and Payleigh breathed a sigh of relief; they were safely out on the mighty Mississippi river traveling south, with the current.
The Mississippi rolls along fairly fast and the paddle wheel adds to the speed. It is a wide river and there are stretches of shoreline where the forests of southern Illinois and Missouri are as green and lush as the distant view one would see from a river boat on the Amazon river in Brazil. They enjoyed their peaceful river trip and were more than a little disappointed it was over in less than an hour.
“There are many rivers on Earth yet few match the Mississippi,” Justin said. “The Amazon is bigger. The Nile is longer. The Mekong may be the most full of life. The Lena of Russia and the Salinas of California are among the few that run north.” He hesitated for a moment and then said, “I read that sort of info.” He concluded with a shrug and a smile followed by a sweeping wave of his arm at the beautiful vista along the Mississippi River, USA.
“This is a wide river and a wonderful way to travel,” general Surfrider agreed as the riverboat began maneuvering to shore for Kimmswick docking.
“Yes,” Justin said. “It would be fun to go all the way to New Orleans and on across the gulf to Venezuela,” Justin spoke enthusiastically. “Everyone should have a chance to watch the world go by from the deck of a Mississippi riverboat. This has been great!. We are on a mighty river on a tiny blue dot whirling around Sol somewhere in Cosmos, this is a place of peace where world domination is meaningless.”
“Maybe more riverboat rides would help promote world peace,” general Surfrider concurred. “But I look at my own career and now clearly see I was thoroughly brainwashed into believing war can bring peace. It took me a long time to figure out I was part of a well-trained mafia gang serving the rich.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Justin replied with a subdued tone. “I was convinced about us as a unique and necessary country defending world peace and democracy.”
“What changed your mind?” general Surfrider asked as they walked down the ramp and moved along the dock with the crowd flowing toward downtown shopping in Kimmswick, Missouri.
“It happened yesterday,” Justin answered. “My sister Julia has been telling me for years. Yesterday morning, you and chief justice Soulminder finally woke me completely.
“By the way; you should know that Julia has become spokesperson for nonviolent state troopers and their united farmworker allies on the pacific coast. My sister and governor Starbeam know we are on the run, I phoned her from the white house when I was in the men’s room trashing my gps chips and stripping down to my tee shirt so I could blend in with the tourists.”
“Governor Starbeam knows we are on the run?” Payleigh mused. “This is great news. But why didn’t you tell me this before now?” She wagged her finger between Justin’s eyes.
“Um. Well. I did think to mention my sister several times yet every time she came to mind something else started happening, like dashing pell mell across the tracks in front of a speeding locomotive. That sort of thing has been distracting me, until now.”
“We are in direct com link with governor Starbeam?” General Surfrider asked excitedly yet quietly.
“Whenever we establish a secure connection,” Justin answered. “All we need is another inexpensive phone with a few minutes already on it.”
“The phone goes on our shopping list,” Payleigh said. “Tell me a little more about your sister. I missed the part about her direct connection with governor Starbeam.”
“Julia is the spokesperson for nonviolent troops the governor sent to guard the first ten.” Justin replied. “Are you friends with governor Starbeam?” he asked.
“The governor and I have worked together in the past, mostly when I was a representative in congress,” Payleigh responded. You are forgiven for not telling me sooner. This is a good time to know we are able to contact Robin; it will help us plan what to do next.”
“Whatever we do,” Justin said, “I think we need a map with that phone. Let’s try that variety store up ahead.”
Although the variety store didn’t have what they needed, Justin and Payleigh found maps, phone and a cafe at a local truck stop near the edge of the tourist shopping area. The truck stop had everything a long-haul trucker needed; they enjoyed hot showers and afterward felt much better about the long chase in which they were the prey. They rejoined in the cafe. Nobody there cast a second glance at two travelers examining a map.
“So what should we do?” Justin asked.
“Look, Justin. That is not a reasonable question,” General Surfrider said with a hint of irritation accenting her voice. “I am a General with a medical background called to active duty with the express and contracted mission of ending regime change wars. My contract was canceled by an unpleasant president and I am not Cochise trained to fight against genocide militarily. You are better trained than I am and you rescued me. You have managed my escape very well this far. How many times do I have to point that out? Your question should have been; North or south?
“And you will call me Payleigh, please. I am Payleigh, volcano goddess, do not make me angry.”
Justin tried not to but he did it anyway; He laughed.
“Okay, Volcano Goddess. We are blocked going west from Saint Louis. We could try traveling west on back roads but I’m afraid the road blocks will be more numerous the further west we go. Roads are few in the badlands west of the Rocky Mountains. Air patrols will probably find us and we would be easy to trap out in the open desert. I suggest we go south and then east at the first bridge across the Mississippi. From there we stay rural and drift northeast. We should use local busses and stay on smaller highways for the next few hours. There are many rivers ahead and we cross each one when we reach it.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” general Surfrider concurred. “This is just as dangerous as when I was in the war. We have no choice other than to be very cautious. The president wants war and our job is to stop him. Vamonos.”
Rural southern Illinois or Kentucky is beautiful countryside that was presented to them by slow traveling local busses they rode that day. Justin and the goddess of volcanos watched the world go by in serious awe. The contrast between the beauty of Earth and the ugly violence of being chased plain and heavy. Out the window, geen upon green leading from lush forest to fertile farms teaming with life. They were not traveling particularly fast and there was plenty to see on their unplanned small highway bus tour.
It was nearly two hours later when they crossed the Mississippi river going east to Chester, Illinois. They changed busses and bus lines several times traveling eastward and eventually boarded an all night bus from Evansville, Indiana to Rochester, New York. Travel was beginning to be slightly wearisome and they still weren’t sure what they were doing other than avoiding capture. Dozens of federal agencies were scouring the country looking for them and they needed to stay away from traps.
“I’m betting we can find a safe place to rest for a few days in the rural northeast,” Justin said.
“You sound fairly certain about that,” Payleigh responded. “Do you have a specific place in mind?”
“Somewhere along the Connecticut river between Windsor, Connecticut and Brattleboro, Vermont will be best,” Justin mused. “People there call it the Happy Valley.”
“That’s further from the Pacific than when we started,” Payleigh said. “Why do you think we will be safe there?”
“I went to college at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst,” Justin replied. “That area was bad for the indigenous first nations yet it was solid during the revolution. Modern people there have gained understanding for what happened during horrific loss by indigenous peoples and were a solid foundation for the revolution. The revolutionary spirit seems to still be alive and well there.”
“Revolution?” General Surfrider raised her eyebrows. “Are you proposing revolution?”
“I don’t usually think about revolution but what is happening to us on this trip has actually made me start thinking about it some.”
“Same with me,” general Surfrider said. ”The Pentagonian empire has been destroying countries and killing millions of innocent people in regime change wars. When a country has no positive impact the people don’t pay it much attention anymore. Next comes revolution.”
General Surfrider saw that Justin had dozed off in total exhaustion and she was explaining herself to herself. “That was important to me, anyway,” she said to herself as she followed his sleepy example.
They slept on and off all the way to Indianapolis and awoke as the bus was slowing into the brightly lit station. The place was crawling with military police. The General and Justine were well rested and wide awake.
“Troops are everywhere,” General Surfrider said.
“Don’t look at them!” Justin responded instantly. “Put your blanket against the window as your pillow. Drape it comfortably over your head and shoulders. Pretend you are asleep.”
General Surfrider has no trouble following directions. She quickly did what he said. Justin covered his head with his blanket like it was the hood of an ancient monk. He leaned a little against Surfrider, as if he was also comfortably asleep. Justin peered from under his hoodie with one eye only.
“They have silicon valley totalitarian software for China plus who knows what! If they see your eyes with one of those scopes, we are doomed to be identified in a millisecond. Don’t look! I have one eye covered and my hand is in front of my face as I soundly sleep.”
“What are they doing?” Payleigh goddess asked.
Justin heard a slight tremor in her voice.
“She definitely does not want to be drugged and put in a straight jacket,” he thought. “This is too scary. Neither do I.”
New passengers were bumping their way around the military inspectors. Still more passengers were waking up just in time to hurry off the bus. An obstructed middle of the night grumpy crowd was developing from both directions at the front of the bus.
“This is like the first book of Harry Potter,” Payleigh hissed under her breath.
“It’s a totally new story in my book,” Justin replied frozen faced under his hood. “They are probably thoroughly checking busses going west but only giving us a quick scan.”
They both remained in a well-trained fake sleep mode and thus felt relaxed even during tension. No frightened heartbeats were detected by troops using totalitarianism two software.
“We chose the exactly correct course,” Payleigh whispered her words.
One of the cameras turned toward her but the crowd swept it out the door.
“They are tuned to notice whispers,” Justin whispered.
“This is a big station and they do not actually suspect we are on a bus from the south going northeast.” Payleigh sighed with relief.
The words were barely out of her mouth when two agents reappeared on the bus and aimed their identifier gizmos at the passengers. The agents compared their results, saw nothing to suspect or report, nodded in agreement, and then signaled for the driver to continue northward. Then their hearts began pounding, as their bus left the station.
“It’s a good thing you knew what they were doing,” General Surfrider said. “I would have looked straight at them without your warning.”
Justin allowed himself to feel a moment of pride that such an important general appreciated his survival skills.
“Are you really running for president?” Justin asked without a hint of feeling shy for asking.
“Where did you get that idea?” Payleigh asked in return.
“That’s what everyone says,” Justin replied. “But what about governor Starbeam?” he asked.
“Is governor Starbeam running for president?” Payleigh asked with genuine surprise.
“I don’t know,” Justin answered. “It seems to me about as many want him to campaign for president as want you to do it. It looks like a close race to me.”
“That would be far more fun than what we are doing now,” general Surfrider mused. “Would you consider being my campaign manager if we survive this escape and I do campaign to be a president that ends regime change wars and works to heal Earth.”
“Me?” Justin laughed out loud, though quietly; he actually covered his mouth with one hand. “I don’t know anything about running a presidential campaign.”
“That makes two of us, I’ve never done it either,” Payleigh said. She mimicked what she considered Justin’s humorous mouth-covering routine and continued with a soft chuckle, “Thinking about running for president while we’re running from the president is funny, to me.”
“Really,” Justin agreed. “It’s funnier yet if we consider that my sister Julia is helping your main rival. She is hot! You would be better off hiring her before governor Starbeam does.”
“Hmm, this is sounding like more fun than I thought. Maybe I will campaign to be president.” General Surfrider yawned, “Wake me when we arrive in Rochester. I did not in my wildest dreams expect to be in New York.” And with that comment she went back to sleep.
The smooth riding passenger bus droned on through the night. Justin also slept soundly through several bus stops. He scolded himself for that as he awakened in the large station at Buffalo, New York. There seemed to be a few more police than normal yet Justin could not be sure by looking out the window between parked buses. He sat still feigning sleep. No soldiers or police approached their eastbound bus.
They weres almost due north of Washington DC and close to crossing a line going east where they were safe. They were so close to being safe that Justin reminded himself to be vigilant while outwardly calm. The travel schedule they had worked out in Evansville before boarding the bus provided a half hour between leaving the bus and boarding the train in Rochester. The bus was on schedule and he allowed himself the luxury of light sleep during the last part of the bus ride.
General Surfrider and Justin were both awake when they pulled into Rochester, New York. The Rochester train station boarding platforms are a short walk from the bus line. They used the rail passes they had bought in Washington DC to board the Amtrak Lakeshore Express and were glad to be in their seats speeding east on a train with a dining car.
“We had time for a longer walk between the bus and the train,” general Surfrider said. “The train is way better than the bus but I would have enjoyed a little more exercise. Should we risk being seen and go to the dining car? That would give us a little more exercise.”
“Hmm. I don’t know if there is extra risk in the dining car. Do they deliver on trains? Justin answered with a question and a grin.
“Okay, Let’s think about this.” General Surfrider donned an imaginary thinking cap with both hands.
“The president and his motley crew of billionaire advisors probably won’t say anything about our escape while the hunt is on. We are east of the search parties who are looking to the west. Plus we are so far north we are cruising the great lakes and the Canadian border. You have guided us through an end run that seems to be working perfectly. I have hunger pangs. My stomach is yelling, ‘Dining car now! Table cloth and big breakfast. Hurry. Let’s go!’”
Justin grinned wide and stood up. “Okay. Let’s go to the dinning car. I’m hungry, too.”
They walked forward two cars and stopped for a moment in the noisy space between cars to examine the door latches.
“This is dangerous even to look at. I’ll wait until a conductor is with us if we need to make another train jump escape,” Justin said.
Payleigh nodded as they walked into the dining car and found an empty table. A waiter brought them menus and asked if the would like coffee.
“Please.” Justin and Payleigh said in unison.
The waiter brought their coffee and asked if they were ready to order breakfast.
I would like a vegetable omelet with an extra egg,” Payleigh said.
“Would you like a side order of bacon or sausage with your omelette?” the waiter asked.
“No, thank you,” Payleigh responded. “I avoid processed food and do not eat pork for social and environmental reasons.”
Justin laughed. “I’ll have the same. Two of those, please,” he said as he handed the menus to the waiter. “Don’t get her started,” he whispered loud enough so Payleigh could hear.
“Environmental socialism or something?” the waiter asked, stone faced.
“Pigs poop more than people,” She answered with a smile. “And pig farmers lobby politicians with a portion of the federal tax subsidies they receive. That way they don’t have to install sewage plants,” Payleigh responded.
“Oh, no; I’ll never be able to eat sausage or bacon again!” moaned Justin in mock anguish.
“There are more pigs in Iowa than there are people in New York City, for example.” She continued in detail as generals occasionally do. “The people of New York have seventeen sewage plants that cost over a billion dollars each. Meanwhile, hog farmers simply use giant open sewage lakes they call lagoons.”
“No bacon for me, either, please,” Justin said to the waiter.
“That’s not the worst of it,” the general said with a grimace and a visible shudder; “There’s fear and discomfort hormones in all factory grown flesh.”
“That’s enough to think about, for now,” the waiter said with bland emphasis. “I’ll go tell the chef what you said.” The waiter walked to the kitchen pretending to hold a queasy stomach.
Justin laughed at the departing waiter, who smiled in return.
“I don’t suppose I’ll ask your opinion on beef,” Justin said, still grinning at the waiter’s sick stomach antics.
General Payleigh Surfrider volcano goddess winked and smiled with her eyes, very much like Robin Starbeam, “We can talk about sad-eyed mammals fed antibiotics so they don’t get sick living knee deep in shit some other time.”
Justin nodded his agreement and opened one of their maps on the table. He pointed to several location on the map.
“This train is bound for Boston, it stops in Springfield,” he pointed with his finger. “We leave this train in Springfield and ride north on a local bus.” Justin folded the map and put it back in his pocket. “Springfield is where the American revolution began with a squabble over over who pays the judges salaries. The people felt that judges accepting wages from the king would bias judicial decisions against the people. Few are taught to clearly remember the revolution as over and won for more than two years before the king attacked and we finally won the falsely named revolutionary war. That was the war that made the richest general in the country our first president. What a joke. All those statues are of the war that made us into a war nation with a rich real estate agent president general selling vacant indigenous people’s land.”
“I’m a general,” Payleigh said, “Goddess volcano general of woman power. Are you saying I shouldn’t run for president?” She asked with a grin.
“You are not that kind of goddess, er, general,” Justin tried not to but failed again. He laughed. And then answered, being sure to keep his voice low.
“The revolution is one historical event and the king’s war to destroy democracy is a different historical event. Two different things. The revolution was followed two years later by an attack to destroy democracy. The revolution was over. The war is separate.
“Washington was the richest man in the country and he became rich as a real estate agent selling native people’s land. I haven’t known you very long yet can’t imagine you doing such an awful thing.”
General Surfrider smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “And here comes our breakfast!”
They had not eaten much since breakfast yesterday and did not say much. They watched the world go by as they ate. New York is a big state with green forests and farms. Plentiful lakes, two of the great lakes, Niagara Falls electric power, the Erie canal and the Hudson river. New York City changes a first-time visitor’s idea of what the nation and even the world is all about. It’s a wildly wonderful place.
Ordinary cities in New York state vary from the large metropolis of Buffalo to picturesque small villages with church steeples and still functioning downtowns. New York is big-sky country in the northeastern US. The train travels east above Canandaigua and the finger lakes region where people had worked so hard to save Earth from an immortal corporate’s gas drilling and storage project. Very large old barns are a common sight across the state. Gigantic old trees often flank equally old barnyards. The ancient trees patiently remind the present it too will someday be an echo wave from a far distant past.
The Lakeshore Limited travels east across the widest part of the state and then turns almost due south. The train line eventually meets the Hudson river and travel along with it. They crossed the Hudson river at the interesting tree-lined state capitol city of Albany. The day was filled with much to see and it was mid afternoon when Payleigh and Justin watched the tracks divide and spread apart in the middle of a hypnotic half asleep curve; their train had turned eastward again, through the mountains to Springfield and then on to Boston, Massachusetts.
It was early evening when they walked off the train in Springfield, Massachusetts.
“Are we in the happy valley yet?” Payleigh asked with her arms out stretched as if to feel and hug it.
“Kinda depends on who you talk to,“ Justin answered with a chuckle. “And we need to be at least a little careful. No volcano goddess stuff!”
“What do you mean?” General Surfrider semi demanded.
“About what?” Justin asked. He glanced furtively about in all directions as rapidly as he could without hurting his neck. His finale gesture was one hand over his brow as he peered into a vast distance.
Payleigh smiled and her storm subsided.
Justin felt relieved.
He pointed to the local bus passenger area and they boarded a local bus for Greenfield, maybe an hour bus ride north. Plain dollars and change for this bus. No gps chips involved.
They were whisked to Northampton, called Noho, and from there onward to Greenfield, in a little over an hour. They walked from the Greenfield transportation hub and a within short walk from there arrived at Justin’s friend’s house.
“What is your friend’s name?” Payleigh asked.
“His name is Harold but for some unknown reason, every one calls him Howard,“ Justin said as they turned onto the walkway to Harold Howard’s front door. Some things are easy for Justin.
“This is a little strange,” Payleigh commented. “We are being hunted by a raging empire as we walk normally to your friend’s front door. We are in a friendly Greenfield small town neighborhood that I could be happy living in.. From the looks of it, we could still be in Missouri, southern Illinois or Kentucky.”
“There’s also a Greenfield in California and another in Illinois.” Justin mentioned with a nod and a smile. “Those are nice towns too.”
“We could be anywhere!” Payleigh exclaimed at the exact moment the front door opened wide.
A smiling woman beckoned them inside.
“Hi, I’m Kathleen. Howard is watching tv, listening to the radio and checking the internet trying to find out about you two. We are totally honored you are here, General Surfrider. Welcome to our happy valley. You are safe now.” Kathleen bowed to Payleigh and then hugged her in greeting. Nirvana sparkeled behind Kathleen’s eyes.
Kathleen pointed Justin toward Howard, who was engrossed with an array of electronic equipment set up in their ad hoc communication den. Howard stood and said hello to Justin and general Surfrider.
“Welcome.” He said. “You are at this very moment the main subject on our deep discussion news broadcasts from the happy valley.”
“We are?” Payleigh responded. She was completely surprised.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Kathleen asked Payleigh. “You really are safe now. Come into the kitchen, we have drinks and snacks set out for you, too.”
“Wait!” Justin said as he stopped halfway to the kitchen door. “How did you know we were here?”
“We didn’t know you were here until I saw you from the window,” Kathleen said. “We knew you were involved, Justin, and we know a little about what is happening because that dear man Governor Robin Starbeam. He has broadcast a missing person alert around the world.”
Governor Starbeam is looking for us?” Justin and Payleigh asked.
“That’s about all we knew for sure. We were on the lookout until you walked into our front yard.” Howard interjected. “Governor Starbeam has demand to see both of you. He has offered safe haven for you and his plan has been censored from most of the country. Even so, happy valley radio has been broadcasting news of the search and rescue mission live from the creators temporary field lab in Paso Robles, California.”
“Actually,” Kathleen laughed, “Everyone in the country probably knows what is going on but you. Corporate news won’t mention your story. You have done much for us all over the years yet you have moved mountains as a disappeared person. Illusions have shattered; everyone knows precisely the who, where and why of austerity, pollution and war because you have been stamped as official top secret. When we asked each other why, answers poured out of everyone like rain."
Howard laughed, too. “Happy valley radio is being broadcast by mini radio stations throughout New York. Millions know you are missing and lucky us have you here in our home on our turn for surprise dinner pot luck guest nite. Great timing!
"Let’s go check the kitchen with Kathleen. And there's something you might as well know now. Everybody will want you to stay here and put under cover in Happy Valley. They're going to want you to stay safe here and help us shake free of totalitarian financial capitalism. From the source to the sea. There is a better way and you just might do something wild here as an out of site fugitive banishing austerity and pollution from the happy valley. People will find out you are alive yet won't know where.”