“Oh hell, Walkers up here? The skinny ones?” Chad asked.
“You know I get around pretty good because I am a trucker. I started seeing them around Visalia about three months ago. They are just really skinny people walking around looking for food to eat. I asked some of the long-distance guys I know and they have been seeing them around Los Angeles for a year, and now they’re moving north.” Ken told Chad.
“Most of them are like rabbits. They shuffle away if you say “boo” at them. But a few of them downright dangerous. I’ve seen a few of them around here, now.” Ken continued, “If I was doing some extracurricular activities and it involved stuff that was edible, I’d be keeping somebody around with a baseball bat, just in case.”
Calling the crew together, Chad said, “I am going to ask for a favor. I expect that most of you will say, ‘No thank-you.’ That’s okay. I know that I am asking for a hell of a favor.”
After dark, I need to go into town and steal a hundred bags of our own potatoes out of the warehouse. We got screwed by the system today. They intend to screw us even worse tomorrow and the day after. I, for one, intend to fight back. I cannot, by myself, carry one hundred bags of potatoes a hundred yards tonight. I tell you, humbly, that I need your help.”
“No pressure. It is an all-volunteer thing… knowing that what I propose we do is considered a crime by the laws of man.”
Miguel raised his hand.
Houa raised his hand.
Then Belladonna and Biff. Belladonna said, “I may not be able to keep up with the guys, step-for-step. But every bag of potatoes I carry out is one that you guys don’t need to.
Chad raised both of his hands and waved them. “That is enough. I don’t know how many nights we are going to have to do this so I don’t want to burn you out.”
That night, one hundred bags of potatoes were carried out of the warehouse by five shadowy figures. Undoubtedly, some of the locals saw them but nobody thought it was important enough to report them to the outsiders who had shown up to rub Chad’s nose in the dirt.
The five took turns holding the baseball bat while the other four humped bags of potatoes.
The next day, more than 40,000 pounds of potatoes were loaded onto the semi. Every bag that was audited contained sound potatoes. And once again it took thirteen hours to load the semi.
The two crew members helping load the truck took little cat-naps while Branch weighed each bag of potatoes. Branch thought they must be having pleasant dreams since they were all smiling beatific smiles as they dozed.
Chapter Seven
To: Erica Holder-Washington
The Cali Department of Education
Executive Director, Enforcement Division
From: Denice Delarosa
The Cali Department of Food Security
Executive Director, Domestic Production
Date: August 19, 2031 9:15 pm
Topic: Food Security, Emergency Order dated June 15
You fucking moron:
What part of “Do not prosecute. Do not harass, did you not understand?!”
In her own words, your apparatchik Lois Gale-Lienhart-Diaz is off the reservation and, motivated by a personal vendetta, is hell-bent on derailing the only effort that might, maybe, prevent food riots this winter.
There is no collateral that was not pledged during the 2026-27 crisis. The Chinese will not ship us grain.
You, by virtue of chain-of-command, are responsible for a ten percent deterioration in the 2029 harvest season due to your “loose cannon” interfering with our logistics resources.
Per the Food Security, Emergency Order dated June 15 which grants me broad, emergency powers; I require that you view the first three minutes of the video at the following LINK.
After viewing the video you will fire Gale-Lienhart-Diaz. Then you will file a statewide BOLO, Arrest with prejudice orders.
I expect a return email in fifteen fucking minutes acknowledging receipt and understanding of this email and a timetable for the actions outlined there-in.
“Hey Honey. This is LaShawnda.” Mz Lienhart told Lois.
“I don’t know what you did but you sure pissed off some important people.”
-pause-
“How pissed off?”
“I can’t be sure. But I can tell you this: Before today I never saw an arrest warrant with arrest with prejudice as the leading line.”
“I don’t know if you have a place to lie low, but you sure as hell can’t come back to Sacramento.”
-pause-
“Of course it had to be Terry Branch throwing you under the bus. Nobody else has enough on you.”
-pause-
“Look, you gotta wait this out. It sounds like they are going to smack you around some. Sure, they would have believed you before they would believe an idiot like Terry. You know that’s why everybody calls him a “Bakersfield Bullshitter”… but Terry already ratted on you and they believe him now. You gotta find some place that is out of sight and let things calm down.”
-pause-
“Palm Springs? You have family in Palm Springs? That could work. Maybe you can slip into Mexico or Arizona from there.”
-pause-
“Oh, you are already half way there? That is a bit of good luck. You probably ought to ditch the car. They have trackers in them you know. Can you hitch a ride to Palm Springs?”
-pause-
“Yes, I know you are very resourceful.”
“Write me when you settle down, where ever you end up going.”
Entire conversation, both sides, recorded and subsequently transcribed by voice-to-text and permanently stored in the server farms for posterity.
Mardi and Chad looked up when they heard the sound of knocking on the door.
Most folks around here “Yoo-Hooed” from outside, especially during the summer. Folks kept their windows open to catch a breeze.
“I wonder who that is.” Mardi said.
“I guess I’ll go see.” Chad replied.
The sound of the knocking became more insistent as Chad walked to the door.
Opening the door, he saw a stout woman who was grossly overdressed for the high 80’s of the early evening.
“What may I do for you?” Chad politely asked her.
“It’s not ‘what you can do for me’. You are going to do what I tell you to do.” The woman corrected him in a command voice.
Chad was taken aback. The woman’s rudeness clearly identified her as being from the Big City. It was equally clear that she was a fish out of water. She was wearing what city people call “sensible shoes” with her severely tailored, houndstooth patterned suit. Shoes that are called “sensible” in the big city look pretty stupid on people walking on gravel and rutted roads. Chad could not see where she had parked, but it was clearly more than a quarter mile away. Whoever his visitor was, walking was not her favorite mode of transportation.
Mardi hearing the voices walked up behind Chad. “Oh. It is you.”
Then Mardi said, “Chad, allow me the pleasure of introducing you to Lois Gale-Lienhart-Diaz. She is the woman who is overseeing our probation with The Cali Department of Education.”
Mardi rarely stooped to sarcasm, so Chad knew that Mardi had been deeply hurt by this woman.
“Please step in.” Chad told the woman.
The woman was looking around as she entered. Apparently she found the interior slightly more to her taste than she had found the sun-blasted exterior as her face lost a little bit of the sucking-on-a-sour-lemon look.