299 Days: The Restoration

Chapter 311 An Extra Day Off

In Seattle, it was almost midnight and Prof. Carol Matson was getting ready for work tomorrow after the New Year’s Day holiday, which had been surprisingly extended. They were scheduled to return to work the day after New Year’s Day, but they got an extra day off. Apparently there had been some logistical snafus on New Year’s Day and all the employers in Seattle, which were almost all government and quasi-governmental agencies, let their workers stay home. An extra day off! Carol thought of it as just one example that showed how much better things were now that the progressives finally got to run things. The workers were now being treated much better than they were when the corporations ran everything.

Carol had been following the events of New Year’s Day and the day after. She tuned into NPR, which always had good news on. NPR was broadcasting that some police stations were hit by the terrorists on New Year’s Day. She rolled her eyes at the teabaggers — New Year’s? Really? They were so unimaginative. “New year, new bosses,” was probably their message. How juvenile.

NPR commentators discussed how the teabaggers were attacking police stations to steal guns. That made sense: the Neanderthal teabaggers loved their guns — and using guns to impose their narrow views on everyone else.

NPR was reporting that, in a weird set of coincidences, some government officials were killed in apparent home invasions by street criminals. The break-ins were probably just to get some food to eat, Carol thought. NPR explained that people who broke the laws, usually greedy people thwarting the Recovery, had their FCards revoked and probably were stealing to eat. Just follow the laws, Carol thought, and you’ll be taken care of. Society was a compact where the people agreed on the laws and punishments for breaking them; break the laws and society doesn’t need to take care of you. It was only fair. Revoking FCards from lawbreakers was how the authorities were helping people make sure to follow the laws.

Lastly, NPR mentioned that there had been some attacks in Olympia, but the legitimate authorities put it down and were firmly in control. NPR said to expect some teabagger propaganda soon with altered photographs claiming to show they had taken Olympia. The police captured some documents in which the teabaggers detailed their plan to falsely claim that they took Olympia. That was just like the teabaggers, Carol thought. The only thing they have is lies. Who would believe those so-called “Patriots”?

Carol forced herself to turn off NPR so she could get to sleep and get to work well rested. She was careful to quietly go into her bedroom. Her little off-campus house was full of new houseguests. Her first set of guests in June, Maria and her two adorable little boys, Enrique and Fabiano, were refugees from Los Angeles after the riots. They were undocumented immigrants and the good people of southern California, unlike the rednecks in Texas, tried to accommodate as many of them as possible. But years of underspending on social services and public infrastructure in California meant there weren’t enough resources for them down there. Seattle gladly took them in, and Carol volunteered to house them. They were issued FCards and lived with her until right before Thanksgiving. Then they were given jobs in eastern Washington at a potato processing plant. They were sad to leave but understood that everyone needed to do their part for the Recovery.

This freed up Carol’s little house for more houseguests. Right before Christmas, she received word that she’d be getting a family from Olympia. She wasn’t told much about her new family, a nice couple with two high-school aged sons, due to security concerns. Apparently, the mom in the family worked for some important state agency and the family was relocated to a safe place like Seattle. They didn’t talk much about Olympia, but it sounded to Carol like things had been rough on government officials down in Olympia over the previous few weeks. Not everyone was pulling their weight for the Recovery, it seemed, and there were some greedy people jealous of officials who were working hard to help people. The mom still worked for the state agency in the offices they took over at the University, and the dad volunteered for the FCorps. The sons had joined the National Guard and were preparing to start training. They were a very nice family.

Carol appreciated the extra FCards the family brought to her house. As public employees, all four of them had a generous amount of credits, which was good because food and little luxuries were becoming harder to find in Seattle. They were still available, it just took some searching. The mom, in particular, seemed to know which stores had things. The alternative was the black market, which seemed to be gaining strength every day. It was becoming common for people to openly buy and sell from the little stands that were popping up on street corners. Everyone knew the buying and selling, usually by barter and without all the necessary permits, was illegal. Yet no one seemed to shut them down, except occasional ones who were made into examples. Carol made her first illegal purchase at the end of December. She really, really needed some pretty wrapping paper for a winter solstice gift for her new houseguests. She traded a pound of coffee she purchased with her FCard for the wrapping paper, which was adorned with cute little reindeer. It was for a good cause: she was brightening up her houseguests’ holiday after they had to relocate.

Carol tried to be as quiet as possible when she tiptoed from the living room into her bedroom. As she walked by the two sons sleeping on the couch and floor, she wondered why her family, mainly her brother, couldn’t be like them. Nice. Helping in the Recovery.