Red White & Blue
Cover art by Allison M. Healy
Prologue
We observe the continuing adventures of Red White and Blue.
Good ol’ Red.
Good ol’ Blue.
Red White sits downtown on the bench on the side of the street with the sun.
Blue lies at his feet.
Red says to Blue: Nice day, huh?
Blue nods and says, “I guess so,” as Red’s Adam’s Apple bobs.
Another older gentleman sits down on the opposite end of the bench.
You have to let it all go.
Fear, doubt, and disbelief. Free your mind.
The sound comes from the dog.
The man leaves.
A woman comes. Takes a seat.
Again the dog talks.
I know exactly what you mean. What you know you can’t explain, but you feel it. You’ve felt it your entire life, that there’s something wrong with the world.
You don’t know what it is, but it’s there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad.
She leaves.
Some kids come.
The Matrix is everywhere. It is all around us.
The kids jump off their bicycles, excited to hear the talking dog.
You can see it when you look out your window or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work … when you go to church … when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth. The Matrix is a system.
That system is our enemy.
The kids crawl and shuffle closer.
But when you’re inside, you look around, what do you see?
Businessmen, teachers, lawyers, carpenters.
The very minds of the people we are trying to save. But until we do, these people are still a part of that system and that makes them our enemy.
You have to understand, most of these people are not ready to be unplugged.
And many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system, that they will fight to protect it.
“Cool!”
The kids holler and high-five each other.
They jump on their bikes and take off, eager to tell someone.
CHAPTER ONE
“And in local news …”
The pert man and woman smiled at each other and the woman took the lead.
“A man has been charged with domestic terrorism.”
“Trying to talk to children on the way to school, in the morning, on a bright sunny day and giving them candy.”
“And taken to the mental hospital,” added the man.
The woman took the story back.
“The man was found sitting in a garage, along with his dog.”
“It was surely not his garage,” the male newscaster said, smirking, earning him a stern eye from his female counterpart, who seemed to think this should be her turn to read the news.
“And perhaps … not even his dog.”
She took it back again.
“A Mr. Red White,” she said.
“Police surrounded the garage on Tenth Street, along with ambulance, citizens about the man sitting in the garage that was not his own.”
“Because the couple who own the garage had gone to Arizona?” said the man quickly.
The woman shook her head disgustedly.
“Who left the garage door open is a topic for another day perhaps?” said the man.
Seeming to be okay now with the back and forth, the woman newscaster continued.
“The man,” she said.
“Red White,” said the male newsman.
“Yes, a Red White,” she said.
“According to police records, stated his address as The Rosewood Café.”
The camera, in a two-shot, zoomed in on the woman to avoid showing the male newscaster laughing.
She continued.
“Apparently he has asked for a harmonica, to make the people happy.”
A hand showed up on camera on the desk with a piece of paper.
The woman took it, read it and looked up at the camera, now again in close-up.
“Yes, there was a dog,” she said.
The camera again pulled back to reveal the male newscaster again in his chair, putting on his microphone, straightening his lapel.
He looked right into the camera with a straight face.
“Red White,” he said.
“Is apparently a fan of the movie The Matrix,” he said.
The newscaster fought to hold his countenance, speaking slowly, forcing out the words.
“But … he, apparently confused, calls it The Waitress, according to police reports that say he has recited passages from the movie while in custody.”
The man became serious.
“We have also received word that this man, Red White, was handing out candy to passing children, which caused a major concern as we can all well imagine, to the parents in the neighborhood.
“He apparently enticed the children into the garage by telling them the dog could talk.
“And, reportedly the dog went along quietly and not reluctantly when approached by a member of local animal control.
“This man’s best friend doesn’t get him either, it seems.”
The woman newscaster, looking perturbed at her counterpart, cut in.
“And, again, if perhaps anyone would like to donate a harmonica, perhaps.”
“Yes,” said the man again.
“Mr. Bojangles.”
“Dance,” the two said together and smiled big as the newscast went to commercial.