The Locket

All they had to do was pay it down. All those trillions in government spending, all the other trillions in sovereign debt worldwide. All they had to do was honor those interest payments, and turn the debt into loans, and let their repayment reduce the debt. Quite soon, the loans would be in the trillions, with monthly repayment in the billions, washing the debt away like a snowbank under spring rains. But no, the fools defaulted, and nobody would buy their bonds. Cash wiped out, when everybody ran to the banks. Retirement accounts too, No Social Security, and everybody hit the stores… Picked clean.. Then they hijacked the trucks, and the cities starved. Cops took off their bluesuits, to blend in. Hijackers found out they could cause a traffic jam, locking thousands in their cars, just waiting for a lucrative visit from the pedestrian gangs. Resistance draws fire from all. Nobody moving. The gang took the keys from those in front, so all are stuck, staked out in the sun to be picked clean. I put the locket under my shirt, hide most of my goods under the seat, and wait. They get here shortly. Guy in a truck resists.. Dead now. There’s a dozen in view. AKs. ARs, some pistols. They come to me, talk through my open window. I hand over my wallet, few bucks gone. They throw it back. Gal up the line won’t roll down her window. They blow it, and her.. Pull her out. Kid starts screaming.. They just walk away, going through her purse, throw it down. Shots fired from further back. Organized resistance coming. The gang melts away into the surrounding neighborhoods, leaving all the folks to abandon their cars in an impromptu parking lot, or not. They have time. They be back. Plenty will still be there to pick over later.

I walk toward the front twenty up, The front four don’t have keys, Some tires blown, not too many dead. We can shove two out of the way, letting some through, but too many are stuck, so I walk. I leave most of the stuff, load up a knapsack, and fill my coat pockets.. Food for a couple days for all of us, and my meds, if I make it home. Cash in my sock. And the locket. Heart shaped, gold, with pictures... me and mama, and kids inside, and inscribed outside with a warning I take a blood thinner, so can bleed out easily. Mama got it for me, when I was diagnosed, and knew it was for life. I stop at the dead gal’s car. Little boy, a tow head toddler. He says where’s mama? Mama’s gone. Find her purse. Boy’s named David. He’s too white. He’ll never pass for mine. I set him on my shoulders, and we walk, softly singin’ a song.

So we walk, a newly assembled band of pedestrians, a ragtag army.. Occasionally they turn off, drop out, or get home, until half split off. We meet the wanderers now, down from the city, in their hundreds. Good folks, but shell shocked, looking for food. Yesterweek they had plenty. Today, they just hope to take anything to their hungry kids. They gather at a home, with growing garden, and barns full of life. Owner turns them away, secure behind tall fences. He is heavily armed. We move on, knowing that he’ll have to sleep sometime, and the horde will harvest his crops, eat his stock, and some will live behind his fences. They let us pass, unmolested…

And we walk, singin’, just a bit, a heartfelt psalm, about still waters, and the shadow. The sun is down now, and all is shadows, dark, but still teeming with movement. Almost home now… I drop out of the army, wave and whisper Good Luck and Godspeed, and climb three steps, tell David to duck duck, crouch through the door, and hand him to Mama, saying this is David, he wants to stay here a while. He smiles, she smiles, and the kids smile.. Welcome home. I put his and his mama’s picture in the heart shaped locket, along with her ID, til we find his other family.