Terry Jr. Anderson

Rita Royale


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no choice now. Like it or not, the fight has come.”

      “Yes, I know.”

      Rita changed the subject. “Remember when we used to skinny dip down at the river back home?”

      Karen laughed. “Yes. I was the shy one, naturally.”

      “I know you were. I never understood why though. You’re gorgeous.”

      “Remember little Jimmy from down the way. He watched us from behind a tree.”

      Rita laughed out loud. “I knew he was there. I didn’t care. He got a lesson in female anatomy that day.”

      “I’ll say.” Karen had a drink of beer. “He always smiled at me after that day.”

      “I miss those days. Everything was so innocent and free. We laughed so much. Laughed at everything.”

      “What are you and Tom James doing tomorrow night?”

      “Fight I guess.”

      “You’re kidding.”

      She shook her head. “Nope. I’m not kidding.”

      “Well don’t you get killed. You’re all the family I have left.”

      “I won’t. I’m lucky, remember.”

      “I don’t know.”

      “If we just stay here and wait they will eventually find a way to win.”

      “I heard an Imam was coming to Assiniboia with a few of his buddies tomorrow.”

      “What’s that?” asked Rita.

      “A muzzie leader. Another savage. I guess he’s coming to rally the useful idiots.”

      “Good. Let him come.”

      “I don’t know. Some of those Middle Eastern guys are good at killing. They should be, they do enough of it.”

      “Then we just have to be better, that’s all.”

      “When did you get so tough?”

      Rita thought for a moment. “I’m not tough, but when I saw the signs about killing Jews something happened to me. I got angry. I’m still angry. Angrier than I’ve ever been.”

      “Daddy was a Jew. Wonder what he would think of all this?”

      “Same as us, I guess. Mom too.”

      “I miss them both so much.”

      “So do I.”

      Rita was awake early after a restless night of crazy dreams and tossing about in a strange bed. Dreams of scary violent people chasing her on her motorcycle, yelling, calling her Jew bitch, telling her they were going to kill Jew bitches like her. Dark streets with torches burning, people in black chanting loudly, threatening people, some shooting guns in the air as they screamed kill the Jews, kill ‘em all. Allah is great.

      She awoke in a sweat, crawled from bed, walked quietly downstairs and made coffee then sat on the deck drinking it, the July day already heating up and it was just past six o’clock. It was going to be another scorching hot day. She thought about Tom James and the meeting later. She supposed he would be stopping by sometime this morning. She listened to the doves cooing, the other birds chirping, a dog barking. Thought about tonight, about her dreams, the world in general. A world she didn’t recognize anymore. A chill passed through her body.

      A man walked on the sidewalk in front of the house, looked at her, smiled and walked toward her. “Hi Rita. You’re up early.”

      “Hi Bill. Where are you going?”

      He shook his head, shrugged his shoulders. “Just walkin’. I don’t sleep much. Never have.”

      “Want a coffee?”

      He shook his head again, walked onto the deck. “I’m okay, I had one a while ago.”

      Rita looked at his cowboy boots and jeans, his blue shirt, blue eyes and graying hair, kind face. “You missed the meeting last night.”

      “Tom stopped by last night. Told me everything. I’ll be there tonight.” He sat on an empty wicker chair. “Shame about Peter.”

      “Is he dead?”

      Bill nodded. “Dead as they come. Never liked the man myself, but I feel bad for his wife Ophelia. She’s a good woman.”

      “Does she know?”

      “Tom and I took the body to her house last night. No small job either. She didn’t say nothin’. Just looked at him. I guess we’ll bury him today or tomorrow. When ever she wants.”

      “Did Tom James get any names?”

      “One. The leader. One of the leaders. The crazy bugger went to Assiniboia last night, broke into the guy’s house and killed him in his bed. Killed him with his hunting knife.”

      “Were you with him?”

      “I drove. The muzzies have a barricade at the entrance to town now. I know another way in though.”

      “How did things go so wrong in this country?”

      “They don’t call it creeping Sharia for nothing. It started slow, like a lot of things, I guess. Once the government began allowing these savages from the Middle East into the country, things just kept getting worse, but the media always covered it up. The media’s as bad as the muzzies. Oh hell, I guess people like me are to blame too. I saw this coming, even told people, but no one wanted to hear bad news. Most people have their heads shoved so far up their ass anyway.” He half smiled. “Its all changed now.”

      “Can we win?”

      “Sure. We can win. If enough people pull their heads from their asses. Did you know the government is now telling women how to dress in public? Among other things.”

      “How?”

      “Long black dresses with head scarves.”

      “You can’t be serious.”

      “I believe I am, Rita. Maybe that will begin to wake people up. Maybe not. I just can’t figure people sometimes. This country hasn’t produced a damn thing except cowards in the last fifty years. We’ve had it too easy. Course that’s about to change.”

      “What about the Army? Are they going along with this?”

      “Some. Some not. Hopefully more not. Hard to get the truth about things. Politicians of all stripes, cops. They’re not our friends. Probably never were. A militia is being put together. Some did see it coming.”

      Rita shook her head, listened to a dove noisy in the branches that hung like an umbrella across the street. The leaves green, moving in the light breeze. “I’ll never wear one of those things.”

      Bill stood to his feet and smiled. “No ma’am. I don’t guess you will.”

      “When are we going to Assiniboia?”

      “Tom will be around this evening sometime. I think he’s going to try and round up some help. Militia guys. Guys that’ll fight for freedom. He knows lots of farmers and ranchers. All part of the new militia.”

      Rita heard her sister inside the house, watched Bill leave the yard and continue his morning walk. After a couple minutes Karen walked onto the deck holding a mug of hot coffee.

      “You’re up early.”

      “I had bad dreams.”

      “You still have bad dreams?” asked Karen.

      “Once in a while.”

      “Was that Bill here?”

      She nodded. “He’s just walking around. Probably thinking about tonight.”

      “You