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American Fiction

“Grands! Hi! It's Cody, here to take you to the doctor. Ready?” Cody rushes into his grandma’s house yelling to her and talking on the phone. Slamming the door, he continues his phone conversation. “Yeah, Saturday night is perfect. I have a way to get into the library and no one will be even thinking about the place but us. We will have plenty of time to get rid of what doesn’t deserve to be there with no interference. They will never know what happened… cameras? Why would a library have cameras? Who do you think is stealing books, stupid? … Look man, it’s too late to back out now… This fight will never end! It’s men like you, cowards, that treason describes…You either fight for this country or become part of the problem… What? Are you some lefty woke punk now? Your job, as an American, is to defend our American ways. That starts with the children... They don’t need the stuff they are being taught in the books on that list and that’s why we are burning them up on Saturday night. Are you a protector of the children or are you one of the groomers? …Don’t be making up excuses for your cowardice now Blake! Look, figure out what side of history you plan to be on, the righteous or the wrong. I’m at my Grannies now. Call me back when you get your nuts back in their sack.”

Cody plopped onto the couch as his grandma was helped from the back of the house by her home health aide, Maricel. “Here we are Mrs. Stuart. Right into your coat to leave,

 or do you need a rest?” Ginnie Stuart is slight of build. Osteoporosis has bent her gracefully but at 84 she is still strong of mind, if weak of body. “No Maricel. Cody is on time today so he can help me from here. Besides, I want to talk a spell with my grandson.” 

“Very well, Mrs. Stuart. Good afternoon Mr. Stuart.” 

“Yeah.” Cody says as he looks anywhere but at Maricel. As though she’d been physically struck by his single word lack of a greeting, she turned back to her charge. 

“Mrs. Stuart, I will go now then. Are you still certain you want to cancel the rest of my time today? You have me until 9pm 5 days a week. It’s not yet 2.” 

“I’m sure. My daughter will be here tonight. I have Cody this afternoon, and his aunt tonight. I will be fine but fetch my walker before you go to enjoy the afternoon off.” Maricel returns to the back of the small house as Ginnie focuses on her grandson. “Cody, how are you boy? Haven’t seen you in almost a month.” Maricel comes back with the walker and tries to hand it to Cody. He stares at her without taking it. She nervously puts it against the wall while looking back at him. “Have a good day, Mari.” The women smile as Maricel nods and leaves. “Boy, what was that?”

“I am not a boy Grands. Didn’t we talk last month about you getting rid of the gook? Thought it would be gone by now.”

“Cody! What the hell, BOY?!? That is the best home nurse I’ve had. SHE will stay as long as SHE is willing. You will stop being so rude! What is wrong with you? So, she is Filipino. And what? SHE did not call you a cracker or a thing, so you button up that foul language right now!” 

“SHE is taking good jobs from real Americans. A white person would take better care of you, Grands.”

“She was born in Boston and has taken a mediocre job to deal with an old woman and her insulting grandson. Heaven help her.”

“Grandma, I don’t want to fight. You will be better off with someone…blonder. Should we head out?”

“I don’t think Mari’s hair color is your problem, Cody. We don’t have to leave just yet, the appointment isn’t for another hour. Let’s catch up. What did I hear you planning when you got here? Having a party at the library? That would be nice.”

“Ummm…not a party Grands. I am planning to end the assault on the minds of our youth by the library.” Ginnie considers his words a moment then shrugs her shoulders. “Okay, there are a bunch of books in the libraries that promote homosexuality, premarital sex, trans crap, and that say us White people deserve to be punished just for being White. We have gotten a lot of them out of the schools, but the school bans mean nothing at the public libraries. We want to correct the problem by taking them out ourselves. Understand?”

Ginnie, mouth agape, stares at her grandson. Eventually she finds her words. “Who is ‘we’? Which books? What do you mean by ‘taking them out’ - to do what with?”

“Last year I joined the local branch of the Patriot Front. We thought we’d just burn them in the parking lot. That’s what a church in Tennessee did with banned books. If we tossed them, some ‘woke leftist’ would just take them back to the library.”

“Burn them?!? You want to burn books?!? My daddy fought in WW2 and my grandson wants to burn books! Heaven help me, my progeny goes the way of Hitler! What’s next? You guys planning to purge all the non-whites from the country?”

“No, but it would be real nice if you got the gook out of your house, like I told you to.”

“You do not tell me to do anything. I refused your suggestion. This is crazy Cody. Stop it before you get into trouble.”

“There won't be any trouble. History will thank us for standing up for the American way! Look, I have a list of 50 books that are harming our children. Read this and you will see, it's a bunch of filthy trash.” He produces a tattered sheet from his pocket and Ginnie reads, getting more and more irate the further down the list she gets.

“Cody, no. This is not a list of filth. Have you read any of these?”

“Why would I read the filth? Tucker Carlson agrees with this list. Sean Hannity agrees with this list. Ben Shapiro agrees with this list.”

“Well dear, you just listed filth, but this list is not filth. Look, this one, Killing Mr. Griffin, I bought for your dad when he was a kid. This one, The Handmaid's Tale, is a TV show now. Here is Beloved, by one of my favorite authors, Toni Morrison. This one, Sold by Patricia McCormick, while not a favorite, is harmless. It's about a Nepalese girl sold into slavery. Why destroy the life's work of so many Cody, especially on the words of others. Read them yourself then pass judgment.” Cody stands, retrieves the walker perched on the wall and yanks Ginnie from the couch by her arm. “You are hurting me son.”

“Okay. Look Grandma, I am fighting to protect you and my mom from what America is becoming. As a woman, you need to stop questioning me and allow me to complete this mission. You need to heed my warnings and get that girl out of your house. Let her be with her own. Mine will be fine without her. I’m fighting for you woman, and you seem to be on the side of treason.”

“You are not fighting for me. None of that is of me! It’s all just wrong! …You are still hurting me. Let me go. Please.”

Cody did not realize he still had his grandmother by the arm. He did not realize that he was now squeezing that arm out of frustration with her lack of understanding. He is doing this to better America. Why can she not see that? He releases her arm. “Grands, let's go. You will be late to the doctor.”

“Patricia, you don’t understand. He all but dragged me to the car. He scared me. The whole drive he kept telling me to mind my own business or else. Or else! What does that mean? He threatened his own grandmother!” Ginnie and her daughter are sitting in the kitchen. Patricia washes the after-dinner dishes while Ginnie, distraught over Cody’s behavior, has spoken of nothing else all night. 

“Mom…”

“Threatening me over what? His plan to break the laws of decency because Tucker Carlson told him to? Tucker Carlson! What a stupid name - Tucker! Stupid name for a stupid man!”

“Mom…”

“Or better yet Benjamin Shapiro! A Jewish boy perfectly fine with a return to Nazi ideals! What has happened to America? Pat, when did it change…to…THIS?”

“Mom, calm down. Mind your blood pressure. Matt has been complaining about the political changes in Cody for a few years now. Started when he graduated. Now at 23 he’s fully out of pocket. He scares his mom too. Told his daddy that ‘the Blacks need to learn their place and if you can’t see that dad then you are part of the problem.’ Matt called me nearly in tears to ask what he should do. He’s too old to send to a ‘fix my kid camp’ so I had no idea what to tell him.”

Ginnie is flabbergasted. “You two told me none of this!”

“We didn’t want to worry you… I mean…you have so much on your plate Ma. Between the doctor's visits, the osteoporosis, losing dad…”

“So you didn’t tell me because I’m old?!? I was excluded from helping my family make decisions because I’m old. I’m disappointed in both of you. No, all three of you because I must include Cody. My racist, book burning, hot headed grandson Cody!” Patricia tries to talk, presumably to comfort her mother. Ginnie raises a hand for silence, sighs, and begins to comb through her memories. “Patty,” she starts slowly, “I was a very little girl when President Truman desegregated the armed forces. That was 1948. I was still a little girl in ‘54 when the courts decided Brown v/s the Board of Education to desegregate the schools. That was actually 5 different cases they rolled into one. I remember the Little Rock Nine proving the job was not yet done. In ‘55 they murdered Emmit Till and I cried at the pictures in the paper. So much evil. So much pain.”

“Mom…”

“Not done yet. In 1961 I couldn't just watch the evil of my United States anymore. I wanted, I needed, to effect change. Remember the Freedom Riders from your history class? I was there Pat! Your granddad wanted to kill me, but I needed to change my world. 1963’s March on Washington, I was there! 1965’s Bloody Sunday…present. I gave friends lives to see this country change Pat. I gave of myself to see this country change. Remember when you were little, and you used to ask about the scar on my leg? I got that when they attacked us getting on and off the buses as a Freedom Rider. Have you ever noticed the scar on my arm? A glancing blow from a stick on the Edmund Pettus Bridge in ‘65. I bled for the causes I believed in and my grandson…my GRANDSON…would live to undo them. I have failed!”

“Mom, you never told us any of this. Why?”

Laughing, “My mom made me promise I would not. She felt it would ensure my kids went off the rails if you guys knew. She thought she was protecting her grandkids. Funny, as I was unable to protect mine.” Patricia moves to her mother, taking Ginnie’s hands into her own.

“I always knew I had a remarkable mother. I just didn’t know how remarkable. I’m sorry I implied you were too old to be helpful. I have a feeling you are the most helpful of us all and I almost lived my life not knowing it. I’m proud of you Ma.”

“Thank you, Patty, but that's not helping Cody not ruin his life. We have 3 days till his fiasco at the library. I got a criminal record as a ‘negro ally,’ but what he gets for his plan will be so much worse.”

“Ma, I plan to call the police and report it before it happens.”

“Good. That is excellent. But I just got a better idea and I’m going to need your help. Call Matthew too. May as well get his Daddy in on this too.”

Dressed in black, three different groups totaling ten people head to the library from different directions. As Cody’s group crosses onto the library property they see signs for a celebration of Banned Book Week. Apparently, they decided to give away free copies of some of the filth on his list this week. Just as well, now they won’t need to find the crap on the shelves, it should be all in one spot. Good since he wasn’t in a “Dewey Decimal System” mood anyway. 

Cody’s group is in charge of actually breaking in. The second group is prepping the fire area in the parking lot. The third group is in the trees between the building and the parking lot, ready to cart the books out of the building as quickly as possible. It’s all planned. “Ready to make history, guys? Let’s do this.” While doing recon yesterday, Cody unlocked a window near the rear of the building. Just in case they locked it back he also unlocked a restroom window near the same place, but if needed he would just break the glass. Reaching the back of the building he tests his first-choice break in point, and it’s thankfully still unlocked. “Idiots.” He motions to get a boost and gains entry. After helping his buddies inside through the same window, they head for the side door where the bulk of the group waits to carry books out. Crossing the main vestibule Cody notices some of the furniture has been moved. The open reading area is void of seats. What was yesterday a room of twenty or more tables with chairs and several couches is now a single couch shrouded in darkness. 

“I never dreamed I’d need to camp out in the library just to talk with my son.” The sonorous voice of Matthew echoed in the empty room startling the 3 young men as the lights come on. Matthew and Ginnie sit on the couch. “Stay here fellas. Your buddies outside have made new friends so you may as well keep us company here,” says Ginnie.

“Grandma! You called the cops on us! How could you?”

“I did no such thing,” said Ginnie. “Why would I call the cops on my beloved grandbaby? I don’t need the cops when I have so many friends.” From every corner, from behind every bookcase, from down the stairs to the second floor came wave after wave of people. Most walked slowly on canes or walkers. A few were pushed in wheelchairs. Nearly all had signs or wore shirts decrying the practice of burning books. All were dressed head to toe in white. “Son, I fought too hard for all people to have basic human rights for you to become a force of evil in this world.” Standing with the assistance of her walker, she continues. “I love you too much to allow you to walk this path unchallenged. You showed me this week that I was not strong enough to challenge you alone. But I was never alone. The only civil response to your baby fascism is to call it out. We are over a hundred here tonight to call it out.”

“Fascist Grandma? What the heck are you talking about? We aren’t German. We are proud Americans here to help America be the great country it once was again. This is one step in getting it back on track to greatness and keeping it that way through the children, our future. Teach them the right way and they shall not stray.”

“Fascism -a political philosophy, movement, or regime that exalts nation and often race above the individual.”

“Grandma just stop.”

“A government ruled by a dictator who controls the lives of the people in that society and allows no dissent or disagreement.” Matthew chimes in.

From several places in the crowd we hear, “Government by one ruler, a small group, or a single party.” “Authoritarianism!” “Totalitarian!” “Thought suppression!” “Government without the people.” Matthew calls for quiet.

“A government where ideas are killed to control the people,” says Ginnie. “The books you boys want to destroy are mere ideas. What would you have said if Thomas the Tank Engine was banned when you were 7?”

“Thomas didn’t make me hate my own country! Teaching things like slavery was bad does make these kids question America.”

“And what is wrong with questioning? Without questions America would still be a colony, or possibly never ‘discovered’ at all. Questions move society Cody.”

Matt chimes in, “Cody, you were asking questions that led you to this course of action. If being better informed leaves you in the same place, then we can agree to disagree. But before you do something that will forever affect your life, can we look at the answers to your questions together, as a family?”

“Cody," said Ginnie, “understand this please, there is no scenario where you get to burn books tonight. I will not…we will not allow it to happen. I can’t protect all the books on your list everywhere, but I can protect the ones here. How many boys are outside son?”

“Seven.”

“Yeah, no burning tonight. Most of us may be old, but we are bold and ready. You won’t attack democracy tonight.”

“If American democracy ceases to move forward as a living force, seeking day and night by peaceful means to better the lot of our citizens, fascism will grow in strength in our land.”

Franklin Roosevelt

August 19, 2023 00:42

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