30
WISHBONE EMERGES
Traffic noises from the Denver rush hour filtered through the drawn drapes of the hotel room. Todd, Ellen, and Ross had greeted one another with hugs that were too long, too powerful. Now they sat, content to be with friends.
Baxter spoke first. “I have to tell you that Warren Fraleigh was a problem. He must have seen one of us because he put us back on the list. But I’ve taken care of it.”
“How?” Candale asked.
“It’s better you don’t know. For now, we’re safe.”
“Safe? Is anybody safe anymore?” Sangster asked. Her voice a quaver, she said, “I can’t go back there. I’m terrified of what will happen. Of what is happening. There’s no refuge. All it takes is for someone, anyone, to take a dislike to you. Make a phone call and you’re now a target. There’s no due process, no chance to appeal. Hell, you won’t even know it’s happened until someone hammers on your door in the middle of the night. This bloody NPF has only been around for six months and already the country has become a quagmire of suspicion. Anything is preferable to that constant risk. I can’t go back.”
Baxter said, “You don’t have to. I’ve changed the subversive file so we’re no longer on it. We can just leave. For now, we can stay here.”
“Not permanently. We need some kind of immigrant visa to stay.”
“In the long term, you’re right. But for the next few months, we don’t have to go back. Hell, there’s already a thriving sub-culture of illegal immigrants in this country.”
The silence settled for a few minutes, the three friends avoiding looking at one another. Candale slammed his fist onto the table. “Damn it, this won’t work. I’m already feeling guilty about leaving, and I haven’t done it yet. Canada is my country. How dare these bastards chase me from my home?”
Sangster let out a sob. “You’re right. They murdered Bert. I can’t go back, but if I don’t, I’ll never be able to look in a mirror again. I can’t go back. I can’t stay away.” She gave a forlorn chuckle. “How’s that for a dilemma?”
Baxter said, “I feel the same way. I’ve never thought of myself as patriotic, but every time I leave Canada, I can’t wait to get back. Abandoning it would create a huge hole in my life. I’m beginning to understand how refugees feel, and I don’t like it.” He sighed. “But we are refugees, even if we’re off the list. Ellen’s right. Anyone could add any of us back just on a whim. Can we live with that uncertainty?”
Candale said, “There’s going to be opposition. A resistance. I’d rather be part of that than spend the rest of my life cowering in some third world country that doesn’t have an extradition treaty.”
“Opposition? That’s an even bigger risk. These guys are serious. Opposition now doesn’t mean a protest parade and beating on drums. It means facing guns and grenades and live ammunition. Are you ready for that, Ross?”
“Let me float an idea. I was going to mention it anyway, but this conversation is making it more pertinent. I may have found a refuge. This will be unpleasant, but it might make us safer. Have you heard of the town of Wishbone, in B.C.?”
Baxter said, “Wishbone? Isn’t that a mining town?”
“Was. It was a company town for the Wishbone lead-copper-zinc mine. It closed when the ore ran out about five years ago. It’s remote, not near any other towns, otherwise the company wouldn’t have built it. They’d have just used nearby towns to house their employees. There’s just one road in. It’s gravel and it crosses a mountain range. At times, it clings to the side of the mountain.”
“Okay. So what?”
“When the mine closed, everyone left. Everyone. I drove up there a couple of weeks ago to check it out. It’s deserted, but the town is intact. There are houses, public buildings, even a community centre. It’s a place to live, and it’s remote enough that nobody would ever know we were there.”
“Wait. Are you proposing we move to this place?”
“That’s exactly what I’m proposing. And because it was a company town, most of the houses are furnished. I guess the company figured it was cheaper to walk away than to pay to move out used furniture.”
Baxter said, “Yeah, but there are no stores. Nowhere to buy food or anything else, even toilet paper. How would we live there?”
“Not easily and not without a lot of work. We’d have to grow or hunt our food, but we could sustain ourselves. Would we be comfortable? Probably not. We’d have to figure something out for the toilet paper. But we’d be off the radar. It’s a place to hunker down until all of this gets resolved.”
“Are you serious? Do you know how to hunt? How to grow more than a garden plot, how to field dress a deer or even clean a fish? You’re talking about giving up all the comforts of modern life.”
Candale said, “In exchange for not being killed, that’s a life I’ll choose. Look, we still have some time. Let’s do some research. Figure out what we need, how to butcher a deer or grow radishes. Let’s give it a try. Maybe even spend the spring there. It’s a chance.”
Sangster said, “Back to nature. Sounds like an environmentalist’s dream. And a realist’s nightmare.” She paused. “Maybe that’s a way out of my dilemma. Okay, I’m willing to give it a shot. The spring?” She took a deep breath, her organizational side emerging. “Let’s make a list of what we’ll need, figure out who will be responsible for what, and see what we have to do to survive.”
Baxter handed her a pad of paper. “Okay, boss, let’s make that list. We’ve got all day tomorrow to figure out how to fill it.”
“No. We’ll make up the list, but it’ll be a big job figuring out how to provide everything on it. Why not just assign items to each of us and get together here again in March when we’ll have had time to work on them.”
Baxter nodded. “Okay. Let’s start. Food and toilet paper are items one and two. What’s next?”
“WELCOME TO CURRENT Events, the show where we pin down our guests on the affairs of the day. I’m William Stone. My guest today is Don Exeter. Don is a sociologist and author of The Authoritarian Urge. Don, tell us what your book is about.”
“My book is based on years of observations of political leaders around the world. Some of them were dictators, others were democratically elected. On the face of it, there’s a massive difference between their outlooks. But they share a common point of view that leads all of them down the path toward a form of autocracy.”
“But dictators think and act differently, don’t they?”
“Yes and no. Yes, they plan to hold onto power through the use of force while democratic leaders have to rely on elections. But both want power.”
“Is that their common point of view you mentioned?”
“It is a shared goal, but their common point of view is that society is best when it’s organized. When it’s run by elites who have been given the authority to take control because they know better than ordinary people what’s best for them.”
“Isn’t that reasonable, Don?”
“No. My research into societies going back centuries has shown again and again that the most successful ones are those that have the least control. That doesn’t mean the choice is between organization and chaos. It’s between organization imposed through central planning versus autonomous organization in which each person makes his or her own decisions.”
“So how does this apply to the current situation in Canada where the government has suspended civil liberties?”
“The government is acting partly out of a legitimate need to impose order onto a situation that’s become more chaotic. But also partly from an attitude that they know best how to organize society. That’s the authoritarian urge I describe in my book.”