The Price

“And if you elect me president, I will do all the work for you. You will be able to shop and buy and do the things that are possible to you. You will have every opportunity afforded to you as American citizens,” Xander Veeker extolled. He had blanched skin that looked like he had not been out in the sun.

“I tell you…this is going to be hard but if we had a ban on abortions then, we have to have something equal for men.” The crowd gasped. It was like all air had been sucked out of the room.

“Yes, we’re going to have prostatectomies for men sixty-five and older.” Boos rose up from the crowd.

“Hear me out. Hear me out. We’re going to implement a program that will prevent cancer in men at advanced ages. It will be a forced government program which will curtail the number of hospitalizations and deaths caused by this unbearable scourge. With the removal of the prostate, men will be forced into becoming healthier individuals.” The crowd began to disperse. Someone even threw a glass soda bottle at Veeker’s head.

In the car during his way home, Veeker spoke into the phone.

“Yes, that’s what I told you I—, yes ‘there’s going to be an uproar’ you said. If the government can have control over women’s bodies, why can’t a man be controlled by the State, too?—Alright, alright. Bye.”

Veeker looked out over the clean streets of Newark, Delaware. He knew that this fight was far from over. He would have to convince millions of men that one of the anatomical things that made them males would one day be removed by the government. He sketched in a notepad like a courtroom artist. Yet, he wasn’t drawing faces, he counted figures.