Adopted Son (20 page)

A disembodied, “Sorry Mom,” came from the living room, followed by a second child’s voice, “It’s Tim’s fault. I didn’t do it.” “That’s a lie.” Then another crash. Finally, the sound of one boy chasing the other out into the yard followed closely by a slamming door.

“Sometimes I wish I’d only had one kid Lorraine. With one you always know who broke it.” She tried to smile. Lorraine was still stuck on the previous subject.

“I mean, it would make things a lot easier, but I don’t know if I could give him up like that. It don’t seem right, you know? Plus, he’s almost 12 years old now. I don’t think he’d adjust well. Those camps are for little kids. Jim’s too much part of our family.”

Joyce snapped back to the conversation. “It ain’t like you’re going to be giving him up for good. It’s sort of like boarding school. He’ll just be going to Dallas that’s all. You could visit him every weekend if you want.”

“It just don’t seem right Joyce. Sure Jim’s got his problems, but he’s our kid you know? God gave him to us to bring up. I don’t want to forget my duties. I don’t want to give him to the government to raise.”

“There you go again with that ‘my kid’ thing. Jim’s a good boy, but he ain’t your kid. He’s some alien thing,” Joyce said nonchalantly, as if she was speaking about a pet.

“Hush Joyce. You weren’t there. I was there. I carried that boy in my belly for 9 months. He’s as much my kid as Tim and Larry Jr. are your kids. I care about that child more than you could ever know. I don’t care what he looks like, he’s mine. I can’t even believe that I’m talking about giving him up.”

Joyce took a drag on her cigarette. “If that’s the way you feel Lorraine, you’ve got to give him up. I mean it’s the safest place for him. Hell, you saw what happened that day when Larry got drunk. And he’s stupider and more weak-willed than most. Ray Johnston says that it’s going to be hard for people like us to protect these kids.” She leaned in a little and whispered. “Larry’s in this ‘Patriot Brigade’ now Lorraine, and I, well I hear things. These people are serious. One day they’re going to do something, and you and Tom ain’t going to be able to stop them.”

“But I’ve heard horrible things about what goes on in those places. Don’t they do experiments and stuff in those places?”

“I wouldn’t worry about none of that. I mean, we are trying to cure this disease. All they do is take some blood samples maybe. Those kids are ok. Plus, they get to hang out with their own kind. When was the last time Jim even met another HS kid?”

“I don’t think he’s ever met another HS kid.”

“See, that’s it. He’s going to grow up warped if he doesn’t get any friends. None of the normal kids want anything to do with him. He doesn’t go to school. He just spends all day cooped up in your house reading books and playing on that computer. That ain’t no way for a boy to live.”

“Joyce, I know that you mean well, but it ain’t going to happen. There’s no way. I know it’s trying for us, but we’ll pull through. We live way outside of town, I don’t think anyone’s going to bother us. And I know that Jim’s lonely, but I don’t think that putting him in one of those prisons is going to make things better. Plus, there’s no way that Tom’s going to give him up.”

“You may not have a choice one day Lorraine. As I’ve said, Larry’s one of them Patriots. I think he does it just to get free beer, but some of them guys are real serious. They say that someday the government is going to come and round up all the HS kids. You’re not going to have a choice.”

“I don’t think that it will come to that Joyce.”

“I hope not Lorraine, I hope not.” From outside, the sound of a truck pulling up could be heard.

“I better go Joyce, I know how Larry feels about me.”

“Hush, don’t you worry none about old Larry. If he says anything I’ll slap him in the mouth.” She got up and peered through the curtain at the front yard. Larry was getting out of his truck. He had been drinking again, which wasn’t that surprising. Three other men got out with him, some of his new friends. They were also drunk. “Actually, you know Lorraine,” said Joyce trying to keep her composure, “Maybe you’d better go after all. Your car’s out back right? Go out the kitchen door.” She smiled nervously.

The Senate Subcommittee on Handel’s Syndrome Research, Washington, DC. Three weeks after Ray Johnston’s groundbreaking ceremony.

“The chair will hear from General Hudson.” Chairman Walker banged his gavel twice for effect.

The General stood up. Lieutenant General Hudson was career military from birth. He had been hardened in combat and was raised during the paranoia of the Cold War. His face was grizzled and cracked from his time overseas. “Senator Walker, Members of the Committee, thank you for letting me speak today,” he said in a gravelly voice. I have been tasked by the Vice President to provide technical support to this panel. Not in scientific terms of course, as I could never hope to match the luminaries that sit on your board in terms of biological education. But Vice President Johnston came to me and asked me to look at other areas of the HS problem. He wanted me to present my findings to you, and for you to expand your role from just a scientific organization, to one that examines all of the consequences of the HS virus. Up until now, we’ve treated this solely as a disease, a serious disease to be sure, but just a disease. It is now time that we face facts gentlemen. HS is more than a disease. It is a plan, hatched by aliens, for some nefarious purpose we can only guess at. It is a threat, a threat to the American way of life, to the ability of the human species to propagate itself, and a threat to the very authority of the United States government.”

“We have spent years now looking for a cure, and for a way to stem the spread of the disease. We’ve gotten nothing from that effort. HS infection rates are still climbing. Even by the estimations of your own epidemiologists, it may be too late to save the majority of the population. We need to look at new solutions. We need to look at stronger, harsher measures to ensure the survival of our society. This has gone beyond just a disease gentlemen, this is a national security issue now. That’s why I’ve been picked to join this panel. I won’t interfere with any of the scientific research that you’ve been recommending. Hell, I’d love to see you find a cure and find it today. But I will be here to examine your decisions from the national security viewpoint. I’ll make recommendations on that basis. Some of you won’t like what I have to say, but I don’t care. I’ve faced tougher foes than you. That’s why I was picked for this job. Hopefully we will be able to work together smoothly and effectively. We all have the same goal here gentlemen, to stem the tide of this virus and to ensure that the human way of life continues on this planet for some time.”

The General sat down stiffly. Senator Walker resumed control of the floor. “Let me be the first to welcome you to this august body General. I’m sure that your input will be greatly appreciated and that we will all be able to work together smoothly. I understand you have a report to present.”

The General leaned into his microphone. “Yes Senator, I do. I took the liberty of tasking my staff at the National Security Council to look at possibilities for how we could deal with this threat. I’ll pass those out now.” An army Major walked around to each panel member and handed them a small, bound report. It was titled, ‘Handel’s Syndrome: The Emerging Military Threat.’ Colin paged through the document incredulously. He could tell that Senator Walker was eating this stuff up. The man had been campaigning for these ideas ever since the committee was formed. Now that Johnston was the VP, it looked like political influence was going to outweigh scientific research. He wanted to speak up, to say something about this new turn of policy, but he felt intimidated. He was just a glorified lab technician really. He didn’t have the clout that a lot of the other people in the room had. His eyes darted about the room looking for allies.

Heinrich Mensen also read the document with disgust. But unlike Colin Hayes, he did have the clout to speak up. He was considered the foremost authority on HS, and his words had weight. “How dare you come in here and propose these things,” he said, tossing the report onto the floor. “This is supposed to be a scientific forum, not a military camp!”

General Hudson remained stoic. “Dr. Mensen, I certainly understand your frustration on this issue. I wouldn’t take too kindly if you people barged into my command and started changing the way that I did business. However, all of your scientific conferences and grants have led nowhere. I don’t give a damn whether you’re any closer to decoding the HS virus genome or not. That isn’t my responsibility. My responsibility is to deal with the consequences if you guys can’t find a cure for this in time. And you’ve given me no indications Doctor that you will be able to find a cure in time.”

Dr. Mensen was agitated. “But these measures are draconian. Do you realize what you are suggesting here General? Loyalty oaths, mandatory testing for infection, official recognition and sanction for these Patriot Brigades. What is next sir, concentration camps?”

“Yes, doctor. Concentration camps. If need be.”

“Is this the United States or have we returned to Nazi Germany?” Dr. Mensen stood up. “I will not be party to this any further. If you people want to listen to this man, then you can join him in hell. Someday you will all have to answer for your actions. Good day!” And with that, the Doctor stormed out of the room.

“He’ll be back.” A voice whispered to Colin. He looked to his right. He was sitting next to the representative from the Center for Disease Control. “He’ll be back,” repeated the man. “Mensen’s a hothead. He does this all the time. He won’t stay away long.” The man poured himself some ice water from a pitcher. Colin turned back to the proceedings.

The General continued to address the committee. “A war is coming gentlemen. It will either be a war against an alien invasion, or a war against our own children. Preparations must begin now for that war. Preparations are the key. I want this committee to recommend that Congress authorize a full-scale military buildup. I want you to recommend that Congress institute a mandatory identification and loyalty program. When the balloon goes up I don’t want to be caught with my pants down. Is that understood gentlemen?”

Colin gulped and nervously fingered his wedding band. He didn’t like where this was headed.

Tyler County High School, Tyler, TX. Nine years after Lorraine Miller first attempted to register her child for school.

It had become a yearly ritual here in the plains of Texas. The date was known well in advance of course, and so there was plenty of time for people to come out. It started that morning, like it had started once a year for the past ten years, with the arrival of a red truck in the parking lot of the school. It hadn’t always been the same red truck of course. Tom’s old beater was long dead, replaced by a model a few years younger yet just as dusty. There was never any trouble in the parking lot, no one seemed to mind the boy’s presence there. It was only during the walk down the long cement sidewalk to the front door of the school that the trouble started. It had been getting worse each year. The Millers didn’t hold out too much hope for today, but there was glimmer that the high school staff would be somehow different than the ones at the elementary and middle schools had been. Tom stepped out of his vehicle onto the hot asphalt parking lot. Jim looked at his father with trepidation. He didn’t see much point to this yearly display and was scared and embarrassed. No 14 year-old boy wants to be the center of controversy, and Jim was no different. He would much rather have stayed at home with his books and his television and his computer. He knew how people felt about him. He watched his father standing in the open door of the truck, and knew that it would be pointless to make a fuss. Once Dad decided on a course of action, he didn’t waver. It was much better when Mom had been the one to take him to school.

The pair walked through the parking lot to the long, cement walkway slowly but determinedly. The grass to the sides of the walk was filled with some of the locals. They were held back from the walkway by a thin plastic police tape. About ten members of the local Patriot Brigade stood guard wearing their traditional brown berets. At least a dozen police officers were also in attendance. The crowd chanted the most derogatory slogans. Some held hand-made signs. Every year that this ritual had occurred there were more protestors. This year there must have been almost two hundred men, women, and children in attendance. Many were people that Tom had grown up with, for in many ways, Tyler was still a small town. They didn’t talk to him now, he was mostly an outcast, but he remembered all of their names. He remembered what they were like. He remembered the family picnics, he remembered the school outings, he remembered the football games. But now these people had been whipped up into snarling beasts by fear of a virus.

But Tom wasn’t totally devoid of support. As he walked across the parking lot, at least a dozen other parents joined with him, each one pulling along an HS child in tow. They fell into place like marchers in a parade, all behind Tom. Although he tried to keep his eyes focused straight ahead, and tried to keep his face expressionless, Tom was excited to see how many people had chosen to join him this year. After Lorraine was snubbed nine years ago, the Miller family had, in one form or another, tried to register their child for school every season. Each time they were turned back. The first few years it had just been Lorraine versus the school principal. Then the parents of other children started to attend, backing up the school and intimidating Lorraine. In the fourth year, she had been hit on the head with a rock by one protestor. After that Tom took up the mantle. Six years into the ritual, they were joined by Jordan McReynolds and his father. Jordan was three years younger than Jim, but was also HS positive. The two fathers had tried to enter the school, but were rejected again. Every year since the families had squared off in this parking lot. One side demanding that HS be kept away from their children, the other side demanding that the county educate their children as was its duty. Every year the crowds on both sides got larger.