Keeping Time

I, Dieter Petrokovich, a simple watchmaker, witnessed the death of America.

It began, like many deaths, with a politician. Robert Calhoun. A North Carolina native, born and raised. An Appalachian State University grad, top of his class, majoring in political sciences. Born into a well-to-do family with a solid amount of private funding, and powerful connections, to kickstart his campaign.

Calhoun took the presidential office in 2024, when our nation stood at the brink of crisis. His spirited touring and effortless, grassroots charm won him a majority of the red states, and even a surprising number of the disenchanted blue ones. I never bothered to watch him, honestly– too busy tending to my work, and politics is just too tiring to listen to for long. When I did happen to see footage of him, however, I noticed something small, hard to catch, for a watchmaker’s eyes must see every tiny detail. I saw that his hands were always clenched. Like he was desperately holding on to something. Some elusive, oily beast he’d only just grasped the tail of and couldn’t bear to let go. Once I noticed, it set a dark pall over my work for the days to come.

His administration, like all those who had come before, lie in stark contrast to his campaign promises. Promises of lowering taxes and gas prices were met with Legislative deadlock and empty words. Life was hard during those years. As an immigrant, I was no stranger to poverty or strife, but the ease at which the government could fleece its people with no pushback whatsoever was staggering. How easy it was for the peoples’ representatives to bend over backwards for special interest groups simply to line their own pockets was too close to home than I wanted to admit. But, even if times were hard, I still pulled myself through it. Although I sometimes went to bed hungry or with no heat to warm my bones, I still counted myself lucky.

Calhoun retained his office going into 2028, following a harrowing, nearly-tied election. This time around went much worse than before. Funding for public welfare programs began seeing massive cuts: Social Security, public schools, Medicare and Medicaid. The military budget more than doubled. Hospitals and healthcare facilities toppled over with the sheer weight of rising COVID cases and plummeting staff. Those who sat in their homes collecting unemployment, wanting nothing more than to wait out the storm, were forced out into the cold, joining the ever-rising tide of homeless. People looked to the heavens and screamed for salvation. They cried out in agony and despair, begging whatever god would listen to save them for their torment. All the while, people continued to scam, cheat, torture and murder their fellow man, all for a scrap more of what they had. And all the while, Calhoun kept speaking his honeyed lies, fists clenched tightly.

Then, on the final day of his administration, Calhoun appeared before the nation. The election of 2032 had a clear winner, set to be inaugurated that following morning. Calhoun had seemed to be calm, content, even, with the outcome, even if the incumbent was from the opposing party. However, in his final address to the nation, any American who bothered to listen stood rapt at his words.

Calhoun sat at his desk, face neutral, hands resting upon the polished oak top. They were relaxed, unclenched. The beast had wriggled free from his grasp. With a heavy first breath, he began.

“My fellow Americans… I have watched with great sadness and despair as this once-great nation has devolved into a land of the singular. The home of unity has fallen into a den of division and personal ambition. The cities and suburbs are no longer communities of people, but simply homes housing individuals. Citizens once bound to the greater whole are now merely bystanders, putting in the bare minimum effort and expecting mountains in return. Thousands starve, thirst, and die penniless and homeless because of this selfish, back-stabbing nature we have become so accustomed to within these borders. And I, your supposed leader, have been complicit in all of it. For that, I am sorry.”

He bowed his head. Seconds went by. The air was so tight, it could be popped with a pin. Careful listeners could hear a slight cough in the background. Calhoun raised his head.

“From this day forward, I will do nothing but make amends, to make this country as it should be. It is time America learned that freedom is not free. It is time America learned that rights carry responsibilities. It is time America learned to give before it receives.” He folded his fingers together, an almost business-like move, and spoke those horrible words.

“I am declaring a state of martial law.”

Soft gasps could be heard in the Oval Office. Many onlookers gasped too. I blinked, though I wasn’t too surprised. From the moment I saw his unclenched hands, I knew. This was his true plan. This was his true administration.

The past eight years, the years of empty promises, slacking of protections, and consolidating of wealth, Calhoun had not simply been courting lobbyists and cozying up to political parasites. He was compiling names. The names of every corrupt politician, exploitative business mogul and manipulative religious head was known to him and those few he trusted. And he conducted his first grand sweep within a few hours of his announcement.

Mere minutes after the broadcast, soldiers stormed the Senate and House buildings, dragging out every last person on that list. Those not present at the houses of Legislation were taken from their homes or from public offices. Before live television they were read their crimes and executed on the spot, right there on Capitol Hill. Democrat, Republican, it didn’t matter. Both sides of the spectrum profited off the suffering of the American people, and both were paying for their sins in blood. And Calhoun wasn’t done with Capitol Hill. As the days went on into his third term, more kill squads dragged out the guilty into the light: billionaires, hedge fund managers, lawyers, CEOs, actors, and more. Every day there was some new spectacle, some evil fuck who was now facing the firing squad.

And the citizens?

They loved it.

For decades the people of America had bowed and scraped and struggled under the heels of these people. For decades the citizens had pushed down their anger, frustrated at their inability to change anything.

That anger was released during the executions.

Citizens gathered in thousands as the firing squads rang out their death knells. Although the best efforts were made to quell these crowds, there was no containing the sheer elation at seeing those responsible for their suffering come to their painful deaths.

Five days after his declaration of martial law, Calhoun made his second order.

“All troops stationed at foreign posts, for combat or reserve purposes, will be recalled back home. All of this nation’s military strength will be needed to ease the burden of these trying times, and to help usher in a new age of prosperity.”

Military families breathed a collective sigh, as they got to see their loved ones return, no matter how mangled and broken a country they seemed to return to.

Eleven days after his declaration, Calhoun made his third order.

“In an attempt to maintain public safety and order, vaccination against the COVID-19 virus will now be MANDATORY for ALL Americans.”

This one was much less popular.

Anti-vaxxers took to the streets to voice their displeasure, joined by emboldened citizens who disliked the idea of their medical freedom being trampled upon. These marches and riots were swiftly dissolved by vast military and CDC forces. Calhoun had a special nugget of wisdom for these dissidents.

“Yes, my fellow Americans. It is your right to not be vaccinated. But if you accept that right, you must also accept the responsibility that that choice entails, the responsibility to not infect your fellow Americans. As John F. Kennedy once stated, ‘Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.’”

Those who refused to take the vaccine, for whatever reason, were forced into quarantine camps across the nation. Vast networks of white tents surrounded by barbed fences and machine gun posts. Any one caught trying to escape was gunned down on sight. I know not how bad the conditions were in these places, as I had chosen the vaccine, but I heard stories of hellish conditions. Yet, no matter how monstrous Calhoun’s actions seemed, something miraculous happened.

It started working.

The CDC reported that COVID cases had started plummeting since Calhoun had implemented his iron-fisted plan. His gospel of “Rights Equals Responsibilities” had rung true in this case. To many it had made him a tyrant: it was easy to label a man a hero when he only punishes your enemies, but far harder when he points out the corruption in yourself.

Day after day, Calhoun passed order after order, law after law. Stronger antitrust laws, stricter limits on campaign spending, true separation of church and state, ranked-choice voting, legalization of marijuana, free government-assisted tax filing, free public education, livable wages, free public healthcare, and the abolition of private prisons were just a handful of what Calhoun instated. As days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years, Americans slowly became acquainted with Calhoun’s vision of America. And, despite all the bloodshed and trampled human rights taken to get here, many would say that it was a good place to live. Not always, as a system twisted by corruption for decades doesn't unravel without a few kinks. But a good place nonetheless.

Finally, after twenty-two years of ruling as a military dictator, Robert Calhoun announced that he would resign from office.

“I have watched as this once-tragic nation of broken promises and trampled dreams, bloom into a land of newfound promise and hope to its people. Though the days past have been filled with bloodshed and strife, I carry the sole responsibility for those evils, and I would repeat them all over again to bring this great nation to its fruition. Thank you, and good night.”

Calhoun was apprehended shortly after the election of 2054. The new president, a woman named Aguilara Rodriguez, signed off on the order to have him tried by tribunal. He was found guilty of crimes against humanity and sentenced to life in imprisonment. He still rots in a cell today. Many celebrate this: they or ones they loved suffered or died under his rule. However, when I look at those unclenched, relaxed hands from that day, ages past, I see a man who was willing to take all the evils of the world upon himself so that the world could emerge clean.

I, Dieter Petrokovich, a simple watchmaker, witnessed the death of America.

I, Dieter, an American citizen, witnessed its rebirth.