"Everyday Heroes"

“Everyday Heroes”

By Cody Williams

 

1.

Otis Summers looked down at his watched for a moment not to look at the time but just to look casual. His hands began to sweat and he tapped his feet alternating right from left between the beats. The lady at the desk, MS. MONGREL, her nametag read, looked over at him annoyed with her glasses sliding down her beak-like nose. She was an older woman with bushy gray hair and a face that looked artificial like it was painted on with makeup and it was more than possible that she had some sort of “work” done to it. Hugging her torso was an ugly bright pink sweater that reminded Otis of that b***h, Ms. Umbridge from the Harry Potter movies. He used to watch the movies on ABC Family with his son before the project happened. After that, everything changed. The sight of the pink sweater and the memory of the b***h nearly gave Otis a toothache. Feeling the pain of the toothache was the first time he felt human since before he could remember. Otis looked up from the floor at the old woman and stopped tapping his feet.

            “Sorry.” He said as he managed to put on a fake smile and offer a nod at her. Ms. Mongrel rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the latest edition of People magazine that laid on her desk. Otis looked back down at the floor trying his best not to tap his foot again. He couldn’t help it. Like they say, old habits die-hard. Otis leaned forward holding his stomach and started to rock back and forth. Sometimes he wondered what it was that was wrong with him. He’s wondered that off and on since he got back. But the truth is that he already knew what was the matter with him. It was the damn project that messed everything up. That was what brought him to Washington D. C. to begin with. Otis looked up from the floor when the woman started to tap her long plastic fake pink fingernails on the desk in front of her as she blew a bubble of pink bubble gun and balanced the phone between her shoulder and her ear. She looked over at him as the bubble popped and she stopped tapping her fingers.

            “Sorry.” The woman said mockingly as she made an ugly face at Otis and tilted her head. That was the most expression that he had seen her face make since he first arrived over forty-five minutes prior. She turned her back to him and whispered in the phone attempting to keep the call as private as possible. After a moment she hung up the phone, stood up, and started to walk over to him. When she reached him she bent over to look at him in the face and sneered. Otis did his best to avoid eye contact, but it was difficult. “Mr. Granger will see you now. If I were you, I wouldn’t keep him waiting too much longer or he is surly going to cancel. He is a really busy man, as you could imagine.” Ms. Mongrel said as she pointed at the door to her right. Otis nodded at him, stood from the bench, and slowly started to make his way to the door across the hall. He slowed eventually halting to a stop. He looked back at Mongrel who flashed him another snotty look and then he opened the door and walked inside the office.

 

2.

Otis looked around once he entered the office. It was dark except for the small amount of light produced by the black desk lamp that sat on the counter beside the door. Seated at the desk across from him was a man. Mr. Granger, he assumed. The man’s face was not visible to him as he sat back in the shadows of the room. The little light from the blinds behind him only allowed for him to see his silver colored hair. Otis could tell that the man was smoking a cigarette because he could see the end of it burning in the darkness. He imagined the wicked smile that must be on the other end of the cigarette. The man took the cigarette from his mouth and sat it down into one of the grooves on the black ashtray in front of him. Smock left the man’s mouth and invaded the air around him before slowly dissipating.

            “Sit down Mr. Summers. I’ve been expecting you.” The man said with a deep thunderous voice. Otis slowly walked over to the chair on the other side of his desk and sat down. “I’ve heard that you have some things to say to me. Some sort of criticisms you have to make. Well, come on now. Let’s hear them. As you can imagine, I’m a very busy guy.” The man said to him. Otis sat there for a moment and examined the darkness that surrounded the man. He imagined what the man’s face looked like. He was probably and old rich white guy. One who doesn’t have to worry about the endless horrors hat he had witnessed before his very eyes. Perhaps he was unaware of the things damage he has caused. He seemed pretty damn stupid when he ran for president. Otis didn’t vote for him. He refused. Otis voted for the man who opposed him. A Democratic Socialist who Otis still believed if he would have won, they wouldn’t be in the unfortunate mess that they were in. Part of him hated that the voter turn out was so low. But another part of him entirely thought this is what they deserve. But it wasn’t what he deserved or the thousands of people who voted for the socialist. They deserved something better but still had to suffer with the outcome like everyone else. Whoever said that life was fair?

            Otis mailed Mr. Granger a letter once he got back. He had wanted to talk to him before he had him shipped off to war but there was never a good time. Once he returned, the first thing he did was write the letter. Three months later, much to Otis’ surprise, Granger replied.

            “Yeah. I suppose you can say that I have some criticisms.” Otis said. The man picked up a cigarette, puffed it once more, and sat it back down where it was.

            “Well, lets hear them then. I haven’t got all day, Mr. Summers.”

            “How much money did you spend on that wall you built, Mr. Granger?” Otis asked.

            “How much? Boy, you know I didn’t pay for that. I made them pay for it. Maybe you should pay attention to the news every once in a while.” The man answered. A small smirk arose on Otis’ face.

            “Right, right. And uh, how many Latinos and brown people did you murder forcing them back into Mexico? Not allowing them to have food and water. What gave you the right to make yourself executioner of these people?”

            “I’m the President of the United States! They were all rapists. They were all murderers! I did this country a favor.”

            “Have you ever thought about what you will be remembered of? Guys like you, guys in power, that’s what they obsess over isn’t it? What their legacy will be. To me, you are no better than Andrew Jackson. All that he is remembered for is causing the Trail of Tears with the Native Americans. You did the same damn thing but with Latinos rather than Native Americans!” Otis reminded him. Granger was silent for a moment. He took another puff out of his cigarette and then extinguished it in the ashtray.

            “I was told you were here to discuss other matters, Mr. Summers. I was told that you had some things to tell about the war. You were a soldier, I understand. You just recently got back. Isn’t that correct?” The man asked.

            “Yes. I’ve been back for going on three months now.” Otis said as he leaned in towards him. His right leg ached in pulses. “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve done to me? What you’ve done to the other men and women who were forced to fight in your corporate war.”

            “I’ve done nothing wrong. I enhanced you. That’s all.” Granger said. Otis could tell by the sound of the words that left his mouth that the man was smiling.

            “Why don’t you tell me? Tell me what you had done to me and the other men in my crew? We both know what you had done to us. Why don’t you just say it?” Otis said.

            “We made you the perfect fighting machines. We replaced both knees with nuclear powered robotic knees that enhanced your ability to run. We removed the genitals from your bodies so that you will not be distracted by sexual tendencies. We called the operation, ‘the smoothening’. We created one hole for defecation and urination. Don’t you see, Mr. Summers? We made you a more perfect design. You were built to serve one purpose.” Granger said.

            “Yeah. One purpose. To fight in your meaningless corporate war.”

            “Meaningless? We’re fighting in the Middle East! Against those goddamn terrorists! We’re keeping America safe! I’m making America great again!” Granger told him.

            “It may surprise you, Mr. Granger, but not everyone is a terrorist. That may surprise you, but it’s true. Don’t you see the wrong you have caused? Those people over there. They are innocent. Only a select few are terrorists just like only a select few of white people are rich fat-cat snobbish a******s, like yourself.” Otis said. He stood from is seat and paused for a moment as his knee throbbed. He limped over to the office door and looked back at Granger.

            “To you, I’m no use. I’ve served my purpose fighting for you that that goddamn war! To you, I might as well be dead. I have no family. You made sure of that too, didn’t you? What did you call them now? A distraction? How long after I was shipped did you send your men to murder them. A month? A couple of weeks? Was it even that long? I do have one more thing to say to you, Mr. Granger. F**k you war…and f**k you!” Otis said as he limped out the door and allowed it to shut behind him.

 

3.

Mr. Granger reached over and grabbed the black phone that sat on his desk. He picked it up and placed it next to his hear as he dialed *99 for the extension down stairs. It rang for a moment before someone finally answered.

            “Hey, Marty. That gentleman that just left my office? Yeah, that one. I need you to give him the usual treatment. Yeah. All right. Thanks. Bye-bye.” Granger said as he hung up the phone. Granger stood to his feet and turned around to face the blinds. He opened them and the light from outside filed the room. The man’s face was orange and wrinkly. His lips made a pucker look as if he was a young lad making kissy faces at their parents as they gave a final kiss before one of them departed for work. Granger stared out of his window. The sky was a dark orange color with scattered clouds. Below was a concrete area with blood stained on the walls. There he could see Otis being led out in handcuffs by two men wearing navy blue uniforms. The men had him stand there with feet apart and walked away from him. Otis looked over his shoulder and stared up at Granger through his window. He sneered at him just before he heard two “pop” sounds and he fell to the ground dead. Granger continued to watch as the two men in the uniforms holding guns approached him.

            “F**k you too, Mr. Summers. F**k you.” Granger said smiling as he closed the blinds.

Copyright © 2015 by Cody Williams
Courtesy of TRUE TERROR PUBLICATIONS
A division of TTP Entertainment

Author's Note

I love writing horror, fantasy, science fiction, and weird fiction, but sometimes there are more important things to say. This story is a very dystopian science fiction tale that takes place in the not too distant future. While it is a science fiction tale, it has a lot on it's mind and a lot to say about current everyday issues. It has obvious allusions to current day politics. I hope you all enjoy it. If you don't agree with my politics, just read it as a fun science fiction tale. If you do, read it as a social commentary. Happy New Year!

-CW