Two Americas

Prologue

The presidential election in 2006 was so divisive that the blue states of the former United States of America utilized a little known constitutional provision which allowed them to secede from the union, whenever two consecutive presidential elections took place in which the legitimacy of the vote was called into question.

Those states, most notably the ones on the East and West Coasts formed a new federation with Canada in order to maintain a continuity of land mass. The new federation was called the Blue States of America. The remaining states became known as the Red States of America.

Each new nation, including the one merged with Canada inaugurated the presidential and vice-presidential slate of its own choosing in that the Canadians ratified former U.S. Senator Willis R. McCormick, the blue state winner, as its choice for president.

President Herman R. Whacker IV was inaugurated as the first president of Red America after a parade through the non residential, business and national monument sections of Washington D.C. A wall had been built and the city divided into a Red and a Blue Zone. Both the parade and the inauguration took place within the Red Zone.

Dark limousines with 30-state American flags waved proudly, as scores of motorcycle policemen with lights flashing, albeit no sirens, led his entourage down the parade route. The return to the fledgling days of a newly formed government were obvious, according to an NBC news broadcaster, who said it reminded him of inaugural ceremonies he had seen in banana republics, as well as South American countries, particularly during the Juan Péron era in Argentina.

Be that as it may, it was an improvement from the inauguration of President Whacker for his first term, when eggs were thrown at his stretch limousine, although the press failed to cover this embarrassing outgrowth of the controversial 5-4 ruling by the U.S. Supreme Court which declared him victorious, notwithstanding an apparent loss in the general election. At the very least, they refused to grant his challenger a recount.

It was clear that the Patrician Party, whom some world leaders had labeled as neocolonial-right-wing extremists worked hard to make the fissure with Blue America appear as insignificant as the breakdown of Red America’s relationship with Old Europe. It was important, they felt, to portray him as a uniter and not a divider.

Tens of millions of dollars were spent on inaugural balls from funds that had been earmarked for police, fire and other public services in the residential sections of Washington D.C., which by mutual agreement between the two Americas, had joined the secession to become a part of Blue America.

Groups along the parade route were carefully screened, asked to sign loyalty oaths and, while they could buy guns without one, had to undergo extensive background checks to enter the reviewing stands. They chanted “We want Whacker!” “Give ‘em a God-fearin’-sermon, Herman,” and the like.

Right after the motorcycles, marched the cowgirl posse from President Whacker’s home state of Oklahoma, wearing orange and white outfits with silver-gilt edged midriffs, white cowboy boots with clanging, silver spurs, shiny silver cowgirl hats, twirling batons and pleated skirts which fell just below their unmentionables. As the parade passed a particular section of Whacker faithful, each group of his disciples, as they were often called in view of President Whacker’s religious fervor performed their assigned scripts. It was obvious that many hours had been spent perfecting their routines.

Much of the motivation for this came from his identification as “the chosen one,” meant in a religious sense, as well as his being the rightful heir of the fruits of four generations of Whacker family political tradition, dating all the way back to the first Whacker, a Vermont Senator in 1894.

One section wore purple-heart bandages, mocking the military service of Senator McCormick and chanted “Whack ‘em on the right! Whack ‘em on the left! Whack ‘em in the east! Whack ‘em in the west! Whack ‘em here! Whack ‘em there! Whack ‘em, Whacker, everywhere!” Carefully orchestrated fist movements and arm pumps accompanied the chant.

One spectator, who apparently slipped into the stands and avoided the Patriarchal Party’s background check made a synchronized motion, as though he were whacking his privates, while changing hands at appropriate intervals in keeping with the tune. Shortly after network cameras found him, he was handcuffed and led away from the stands without disturbing the serenity of President Whacker, who was still half a block away. Years later, he was still being detained without charges ever having been filed.

Whacker himself was the consummate gold old boy. His classmates and friends from his college and younger days thought of him as a party animal, who had been much more likely to have become president of his fraternity at Princeton, than President of the United, and now, Red States of America. He liked things to be upbeat, well planned and in concert with his own views. With his wife, Delores, at his side—a former librarian at the Stillwater Public Library—he had his mind set on enjoying the day and not being distracted by signs of dissent.

Breaching security rules and concerns, he and his wife each rolled down the window of their limousine, not all the way, but with a crack big enough to slip a hand out to wave to the crowd. President Whacker waived to the spectators on his side, while his wife waved a little hanky on hers. She was the most popular of the two and when she dropped her hanky, a little school girl, chosen from an Atlanta ghetto and flown to Washington D.C. two days ahead of time at government expense, ran out and picked it up and handed it to one of the secret service personnel, who was running alongside the car.

When she handed it to him, he gave her a big hug. He in turn slipped it inside the open window of the limousine, which had stopped for this photo opportunity and the first lady opened her door a crack and waved. This brought spontaneous cheers from the crowd. This touching moment was recorded by the media and played over and over again for days, particularly on the Fox Channel, as evidence of “compassionate conservatism in action,” the hallmark of the Whacker regime.

“Whack ‘em to the right! Whack ‘em to the left! Whack ‘em in the East! Whack ‘em in the West! Whack ‘em here! Whack ‘em there! Whack ‘em Whacker, everywhere!” The orange and white pompoms of the cowgirl posse kept perfect time with the chant. Arms rose. Boots pranced. Bottoms swaggered in a proud and decisive fashion.

President Whacker and the first lady hopped out of their limo and walked the last twenty-five yards to the reviewing stand amidst the accolades and cheers of lay supporters and corporate sponsors alike. The adulation which President Whacker was feeling was evident on his face, as he basked in the glaring sunshine of a cold January day and ascended the east steps of the capitol to be sworn in by the same man his father had nominated to be Chief Justice of the Supreme Court.

“Four more years!” the crowd chanted as he pledged to uphold what was left of the constitution after his declaration as “winner and legally entitled office holder” by the court.

Part I

Red America

Chapter One

“Angie, it’s time for school,” her mother cried from the kitchen. “You get out of that bathroom this minute! You’re brother has been waiting half an hour and the school bus will be here any minute.”

Angela passed by her mother and resisted the peck on the cheek she knew was coming as she reached over the table to grab her piece of toast, white bread, and the orange marmalade to slather on top of it. Angela was a teenager in full bloom now and didn’t like it when her mother openly displayed affection. She liked it even less when her dad did and abhorred the thought that her parents had ever had sex to conceive her.

She had on a freshly pressed, plaid skirt with a white blouse, which was the official girls’ uniform for Saint Rita’s Catholic school, where she attended.

The bus ride was uneventful, except for a few harsh words to a little boy who was annoying her little brother and trying to nudge him off his seat. When she got to school, she took little Carlos by the hand and led him to his kindergarten class. She did accept a kiss from him, but insisted that it had to be on the cheek and on the sly.

At approximately 10:41 a.m., she sat back down after recess to write an essay on global warming. She and her classmates had been assigned the task of writing their views on the firing of a local public school teacher for telling his class that there was a connection between President Whacker’s refusal to endorse the Kyoto protocol against global warming and the ever increasing ferocity and number of hurricanes that swept through Florida each year.

His cousin, William Whacker, the local superintendent of schools, had fired the teacher, echoing the President’s position that “the science is just not there,” for that proposition. “If he weren’t a science teacher,” Willie Whacker had said, “it might be different. But I think it’s inappropriate for our teachers to get ahead of the science on this. It’s something that’s got to be studied further before we can draw such conclusions.”

One of the things that Angela loved about her desk at school was that it was old and had an inkwell in it. She had bought a bottle of deep blue ink with her allowance money and her Aunt Betty, the one with all the money in her family and no children of her own, had bought her a fancy quill pen on their last summer’s trip together up to Williamsburg.

Angela dipped her pen into the ink and began her essay. “Dear President Whacker, I think you should reconsider your position on global warming. I go to a Catholic school, where we can pray and read the Bible, but I still think it’s right to study science. According to my science teacher, who says your cousin is . . .”

It was at that moment that the explosion took place and vaporized Angela, her quill pen, her deep blue ink, her dark brown eyes, her freshly pressed plaid skirt, her starched white shirt, her smile, her hopes, her dreams and her brother.

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