Your public execution. After all the
work you did to find an answer to this crisis, they still want to kill you. And
this comes directly from the President of the United States, well, the acting
President of the United States. Your face feels like it is on fire while your
hands and feet feel like icebergs. Worst of all, your insides have become
melted wax.
“No!”
Madge screams at Sneedon. “No way! My brother might be a partying bigoted
homophobe, but he’s got a huge heart. He cannot be executed.”
“Madge,”
you place your hands on her shoulders. “I don’t think you’re going to stop
anything here.” Your life passes before your eyes in a split second—playing house
with her when you were kids, Madge playing Daddy and you playing the baby. You
sitting on the curb crying while she whips all ten bullies standing in the yard
demanding lunch money. The fifteen year fight (she still hasn’t forgiven you)
over her g-f, Suzi. Inventing the Environaut and the financial success that
followed. Parties with Milo. Then, today’s crap. You realize what an immature
jerk you’ve always been, from letting Madge fight your battles to the endless
parties with Milo.
Five
words float across your brain. Five one-syllable words, but five words that
bring a 180 degree turn around to your life. This one little phrase turns you
into a hero. Time to be a man.
Madge
sees it in your eyes. The look on her face changes from a worried sister to a
grieving sister to a proud sister. “You mean . . .”
“Yes,
Madge. I’ll let them take me. All my life I’ve done nothing but hide behind you
and partay harday. But today, I’m bringing out the tights and cape and becoming
a hero.”
She
throws her arms around your neck and hugs you tight enough to push all the air
from your lungs. You hug her back, then you tap on her back, begging for her to
release you so you can breathe long enough to do what must be done.
She
drops her arms. “Sorry. I keep forgetting how much stronger I am than you.”
You
stand up straighter and your voice drops two octaves. “It’s okay, Madge. I
wouldn’t be where I am today if you weren’t stronger.” She grins as she wipes
her tears and snotty nose on your shirt.
You
turn to face Sneedon. “Okay. I give up. Take me in.”
“You’re
full of crap, you know it? Just because China, Russia and the entire Arab
nation are calling for your public execution doesn’t mean we’re going to give
it to them. They’re not our bosses, afterall.”
At
that moment an alarm sounds with a volume so loud you nearly jump out the
window. You all look toward the red phone under the glass dome and notice it
bouncing up and down. Sneedon removes the dome and picks up the receiver.
“Yes? Yes, sir. I understand.” He replaces
the receiver and the glass dome and turns back to the room. You hold your
breath while he collects his composure. He looks at you, then down at the
floor. He looks at Madge, then you, then down at the floor. Finally he brings
his head up and appears to be looking out the window behind you.
“That
was President Gantly. Russia, China, and the entire Arab nation have threatened
to launch a nuclear missile directly to your hometown if we don’t show your
torture and execution in the next 24 hours. He doesn’t really want to kill you,
but it appears we have no choice.”
You
throw your arms out together, hands knotted into fists, waiting for the
handcuffs to snap around them. When the cold steel touches your wrists, you
gasp. The metal is so hard and cold. They really intend to go through with it.
Forget the noble intention, an entire world is at stake.
Walking silently to the beat of Madge’s
sobs, you, Sneedon, Madge, and Ernie march toward the door. The whole party
enters the elevator and begin the trip to the ground floor where you all will
walk to the front lawn of the White House in front of cameras from all over the
world and a firing squad standing ready for the order to fire.
Just
as you and the rest of the parade is about to leave the front door, Madge stops
and turns you toward her. Her hands reach to pluck at a potted plant on a shelf
by the door.
“You
know that stuff about not forgiving you over Suzi?” You nod your head, afraid
to speak. Tears would spoil the heroic music playing in your head. “I forgive
you.”
“Madge
. . .” you manage to say.
“Get
moving, you two.” Sneedon does not appreciate the tender moment you and Madge
are sharing.
As
you stand on the green grass, you look at Madge one final time standing far
away from the line of soldiers with guns pointed directly at you. You feel your
previously melted insides begin to rise as if trying to run away from the guns.
The world takes on a brown tinge.
President
Arthur Gantly is speaking to the cameras. “Ladies and gentlemen of the world, I
bring you this, this miscreant who nearly destroyed our world with pooh. I will
give you his head on a platter.”
You
watch as Ernie leans down and whispers something in Madge’s ear. He has a
leering look on his face. You laugh as she knees him so hard in the crotch he
hits the wall.
The
President stands facing the line of gun-wielding soldiers with his hand in the
air. You hear a scream. It’s not Madge, her voice is much lower than what you
heard. You hear the noises of bedlam and look beyond the firing squad. People
are running everywhere, trampling each other, climbing over cars and trees to
get away from the gruesome scene about to take place. You envision your blood
splatter on the ground and look down as if it already has. You do see a drop of
something near your feet, but it isn’t red, it’s brown. At that moment, another
drop of brown liquid falls from your eyes.
You
remember the clod of dirt Madge rubbed in your face during the tender moment in
the hallway. You can still taste the mud as she suggested you even swallow some
of it. It works. People everywhere are convinced you have contracted the same
disease that has been turning the rest of the world into zombies. Not wanting
to catch anything from you, the on-lookers, officials, gunsquad, even the news
people who would withstand a hurricane or a blasting volcano for a story, drop
all their equipment and run full speed away.
