She gave him a disbelieving look.
“I’m serious. Most of the time, when you hear people talking about that crap, they’re just trying to sound intellectual. This guy didn’t sound that way to me. He sounded like he really believed it.”
Jennifer leaned back and smiled at him. Patton hadn’t drunk all that much wine. He had a beer before they left the house but that was hours earlier. He was genuinely upset.
“I think you need to just relax and have fun,” she said, trying to keep the mood light. “Our movie starts pretty soon. Why don’t we get our check and go?”
But Patton just sat there with the same tight expression on his face, seeming to ignore her.
“A man like that in a place like this,” he said, almost to himself, shaking his head in disgust. “That’s not good. There’s a serpent in the garden,” he said.
Jennifer giggled at what sounded like a bad movie line. Their server walked by and Jennifer asked for their check.
“If I didn’t know better I’d say you were drunk. Look, he’s probably spouting off to impress that girl. You could tell he was trying to jump her bones. I mean, you pulled that same stuff on me.”
He jerked at that and she was glad to finally have his attention. When he met her gaze she laughed. Instead of matching her levity, his eyes bored into hers.
“I’m not kidding. People like him are dangerous. And did you see the shirt she was wearing?”
Jennifer shook her head. She was already tired of this conversation and was beginning to get tired of Patton’s crabby mood.
“No, I didn’t notice her shirt, Patton,” she said, not trying to hide her annoyance with him.
“Well, I’d bet you a hundred dollars you would’ve noticed if she’d been wearing an Adolf Hitler shirt.”
“Yeah, I guess,” she agreed grudgingly.
“That’s the thing… Hitler is seen as a bad guy and rightly so. Most people still think that Stalin was bad. But they don’t bat an eye at a Che shirt or a Mao shirt. Hell, Mao killed more people than Hitler and Stalin combined. Liberals love to make folk heroes out of monsters.”
She folded her arms and shook her head.
“What?” he asked innocently.
She reached for her water glass but reconsidered. With him in this mood, she was going to need more alcohol. He could tell she wanted to respond so he said nothing.
“You. You’re always right aren’t you.”
He’d been married long enough to know that this type of statement was a trap. He started to answer and then reconsidered. He wasn’t going to win this one.
“I grew up in California and my parents were liberal,” she continued. “I don’t recall them ever saying anything about Mao or anything like that.”
Patton nodded. “I’m sure they didn’t,” he replied calmly, “but that was your own, personal experience. If you take the broader view of history you’ll see that American leftists have always defended leftist dictators.”
Jennifer glared at him and took another drink of wine.
“My parents just thought the government should help the poor. I don’t think that’s wrong.”
Patton readjusted himself in his seat and took a long drink from his own wine glass. “Helping the poor isn’t bad,” he said calmly. “I just think that taking money from one person and giving it to another person is wrong. The biggest problem is that our government has decided what they think is a livable salary and then steal everything else.”
“Steal?”
“Yeah. Steal. Look,” he said, pointing to a table across the restaurant to where a young couple was sitting. “If I went over to that guy and took a hundred dollars out of that guy’s wallet and gave it to someone else, wouldn’t that be stealing?”
“Yeah, but—”
“—But what?” he said, cutting her off. “Is it or isn’t it?”
She was silent for a moment. Finally she replied, “Yes. I guess technically you’re right. But the government has to have funds to operate.”
Patton nodded and wiped his mouth with his napkin.
“Yes, but don’t you think they’ve gone too far?”
She didn’t respond.
“The founding fathers wouldn’t even recognize their Constitution anymore,” Patton continued. “It’s been almost completely forgotten.”
“How would you fix it then? Let those families starve?”
That offended him and he let it show.
“Of course not,” he said, trying to retain his calm. “Look at what Ronald Reagan did. He created an economy where everyone can go out and improve their own lives through work.”
Jennifer’s rolled her eyes—a natural reaction to the name “Reagan.”
“People had jobs with lower inflation and taxes. They could keep their own money and invest, save, or spend it how they wanted. But liberals will have you believe that making money is evil.”
Jennifer had to admit he was right about this, but was exaggerating. She had no response.
“Of course not. I haven’t told you this, but before I came here I was retired.”
Her eyes went wide with surprise at that.
“Retired?” she said, “You’re only forty-five.”
He smiled, pleased with himself.
“Yeah,” he said casually, “but I made good money. I worked hard. I was good at what I did. I invested that money and made millions.”
“Millions? And you left all that money behind?”
He sat back and shrugged and a humble expression.
“No,” he said, almost whispering. “After my family died, and I was selected for this experiment, I gave it to my family and I gave a bunch to charity.”
She looked at him, wanting to ask if he was serious, but could tell he was.
“Wow,” was all she could muster.
“I spent a lot of money too. I didn’t just save and invest. But what’s wrong with that? I earned it right? We had very low stress lives. We gave lots of money away to charity. We were able to travel and spend money and put a lot back into the economy. Why is that such a bad thing?”
She shrugged.
“I mean, when I bought a car, the car dealer had money to pay his employees. I had a big house, but I paid a construction company who paid its employees. Those employees went out into the community and spent money. Liberals know what creates a good economy but they choose not to let it happen. They just want people to be dependent on them and their programs.”
“Do you honestly believe that they’re out to purposely destroy the economy? Why would they do that?”
He leaned back to give his full stomach some relief.
“I know it’s harsh to say, but yes. They want to do things their own way, even if it doesn’t work. Reagan didn’t do anything to raise poverty rates or homelessness. That’s all propaganda. That success continued on through the Bushes and Clinton.”
“What about Obama?” she asked with a smirk, knowing what his reaction would be.
Patton sniffed derisively.
“Don’t get me started.”
Knowing of only one way to get Patton off of his rant, she scooted close to him and placed her hand high up on his thigh. She leaned into him and whispered, “Oh, I’ll get you started. Let’s get out of here.”
His face was suddenly red, his breathing suddenly shallow. He cleared his throat and said “Good idea. Let’s go.”
Michael Varner gazed around in wonder. The streets, the buildings, the sidewalks—they were all here because of him. Everything that all of these people were currently enjoying had come from inside his brain. He looked over at his wife and smiled. Their interlocked hands swung back and forth as they had when they were first dating.
The one thing that amazed Varner the most was that no one had recognized him. Just the night before his face was plastered on the big screen that over ten thousand people could see. Here on the busy streets, though, not a single person stopped him or even looked at him with familiarity.