Smartystan

Another three hundred and sixty four people crossed into the border of Smartystan. What didn’t bother Hector Vergara was the fact that they had escaped from states that were oppressive. He became agitated over the fact the ACA couldn’t help them to better understand that they would have given them refuge. Vergara looked down at his tablet and cursed. “We’re bleeding,” he said under his voice.

“What’s that, hon’?” the waitress at the diner asked.

“It’s nothing. I’ll have coffee, no cream, just sugar and a slice of apple pie.”

“Sure, hon.”

The diner was situated on the border right before it crossed into the country-state. Vergara looked at more of the figures. Sixty percent of the population that had emigrated were men. Eighty percent of the people who ventured past the lines had children with them. The idea of having pregnant women deliver their babies in Smartystan became the best way for children to be made Smarties and therefore given rights that the other states had abandoned.

When the coffee and pie had arrived, in walked Vergara’s head of security closest confidant, Haverford Braun. He had a meaty neck, bulking biceps, and trapezia, but all looked fit inside a tailor made suit.

“Bossman, bossman. I know how you feel.”

“Do you? We’ve got all these human beings with brains, brawn, and not much else living it up just a few miles from here. What we stand for, the middle, the somewhat, that’s all that is good and pure and right.”

“I hear you talking, boss….”

“Do you? Do you even hear yourself?”

Braun paused. He sighed and said, “We can take this. It’s nothing. All we have to do is convince people that they’re going into a place where they’ll be looked down upon and chastised.”

“If I had known that I would have done better than before in my last election as president of the board,” Vergara mentioned while sipping his coffee.

“I know, I know. What’s keeping you from going forward with all of this is the fact that you just barely won. But you won. That’s what is going to count for as long as I’m on the payroll. Vergara smiled and scooped some pie into his mouth. It was a long time before either man said another word. Finally, Vergara gulped his coffee after polishing off his pie.

“We better get up the road,” Braun offered.

“Of course. We don’t want to be late for the meeting in Chesapeake.”

The traveling detail remained small, just the SUV and two other cars which made a column. With the amount of might behind his message, Vergara could just sit amongst the people and hear their grievances. He wanted to know what bothered them. What made them ache? What was on their psyche? It was the first time he had smiled and laughed in a while, dealing with Marylanders.

“If you say we’re going to be alright just leading average, everyday lives, I’m with you, sir,” A thirty something man with a beard and a trucker hat related.

“I plan to do just that. Who needs to be the best mathematician? Or best anything at all? It’s quite alright to be completely normal. To be okay. That is the way we were intended to be. Everyone who wants to be Prometheus, Icarus, or even Sysiphus must want pain and struggle to be their hallmark. I reject that. We must not venture higher or soar above. All we have to do is stay below the radar.”

The bearded man shook hands with Vergara and hugged him. Then, a young woman with brown skin and black hair walked towards Vergara. Her gait remained simple and almost timid.

“I can see you’re already a modest young lady,” Vergara said. The woman blushed.

“I just wanted to meet you and ask you a question.”

Vergara leaned in a bit.

“Why is it that the ACA is so adamant about the men rather than the women?”

Vergara’s face darkened. “We should be working on that. The short answer is more men have signed up for the ACA. But we still appreciate our women. Don’t count yourself out from the movement. I will do everything in my power to ensure that more women are accounted for and provided the same rights and privileges of their male counterparts. Okay?”

The woman smirked a bit and nodded. She turned away. A husband and wife strolled up to talk with Vergara. Broad smiles painted their faces as they encountered the man.

“We’re just excited to see you in person!” The woman who had to be just over twenty-three-years-old beamed.

“You should talk to the last young lady I met. She would be happy to see you in the cause.”

“Yes, sir, we’re for the cause. We're average. This country was made for the average man and woman.” The young man, about thirty, had a stern voice but a sense of glee softened it.

“We’ve been trying to have a baby and to make sure it stays in the ACA. We’re just excited to know that you’re doing all of this work and fighting the good fight on behalf of those who really have no superior skills or abilities.”

“Yes, well, I always like to include in conversation a bit of hope. I want to express to you both you’re doing the right thing. You will have a family of your own one day and you will raise it up to go in the right direction.”

Vergara put a hand in the air and waved goodbye to the crowd. An uproar surged through the participants. Braun and his staff ushered Vergara into the SUV. Braun looked out the window.

“What the hell was that?”

“That was you talking to your people, sir,” Braun answered.

“It feels like I’m slipping somehow.”

“Just the jitters, is all.”

“No, I mean with the numbers, they don’t reflect the passion and the enthusiasm of these persons who come up and speak to me. I have to do something more in order to ensure that people are able to see how average is the way to be. I mean all of the ones who came up saying they’re ordinary and lead humdrum lives, there’s a beauty in that.”

“You fulfilled your duty, sir,” Braun said with a simple, militaristic tone. “We all just want to see the run of the mill, sir.”

“Yes we do.”