NOTE: If you haven’t been following this from the beginning, and if you want to know the full sequence of events, start with the introduction. Click on Archives on the right.
Bel is clearing snow off their new car while Steve shovels it off the driveway, making room to put their trashcans out beyond the gate.
“Fred, how is the footing on the road?”
“You have to watch it, slippery here and there.”
“Albrecht’s plow raised that frozen range of the ‘Andes’ between the gate and the street!”
“Yes, he cleared one lane of the street but blocked the driveway and filled in the ditch too.”
Steve has shoveled a path to the “Andes” and the gate swings on its hinges again. They set aside their tools.
“I doubt if there will be any trash collection tomorrow.”
“Where is Ossian?”
“He is inside. I’ll let him out, now there is a path for him.”
Steve walks back to their front door and opens it.
Ossian bursts out barking and rushes down the cleared driveway towards bel.
“Hi there! “
Ossian quiets and puts his forepaws up on bel’s knees.
“I think this is too deep for you!”
A golden retriever comes up, from the light on Maxwell Avenue, ahead of Lark Bunlush. Ossian ploughs through the snow on his side of the fence, barking.
“What was that about too deep, bel?”
“Yeah! He has got a thing for goldens.”
The two dogs sniff through the fence.
“Lark, where did you get that beautiful dog?”
“He is a guest dog, supposed to go home today.”
“Looks like he is snowed in, at your place.”
“He is snowed in, bel, and can’t wait to get out!”
Steve comes out of the gate and starts trying to clear the Andes and access to the road, but they are solid ice.
The Golden is pulling hard on his leash towards us with Ossian keeping up on his side of the fence.
Lark stumbles, dropping the leash and the dog bounds over to Steve, paws slipping several times where the sun melt refroze on the road last night.
“Lark, are you alright?”
She gets up and brushes the dry snow off her black wind pants.
“I am fine. Can you catch that dog?”
The golden has stopped by the gate to sample the shovelings. Steve drops his shovel and grabs the trailing leash pulling back inside the gate against the golden’s sudden momentum.
Bel scales the Andes following Ossian onto the cleared road.
“OSSI! Come back here!”
Ossian has run out the gate but follows the golden back in again.
Bel holds Ossi’s red leash as it gets wound around the goldens longer black one.
Lark has reaches the partially open gate in front of the car.
“What’s the dog’s name?”
“Sherlock”
“In the spirit of Conan-Doyle!”
“He is a detector alright. Yesterday, Sherlock found my lost glove under the snow about a block from here.”
“Looks like a female, Lark.”
“Yeah, should be, Shirley, I guess.”
“Are you ready for this?”
“Steve hands her the leash.”
“Thanks, Steve. Are you ready for the new dictator?”
“Do you mean Feather Jackdaw or Macadamia?”
“It was a dual inauguration. They are digitally codependent.”
Bel has picked up Ossian to prevent further entanglement.
“Steve, close the gate!”
He pulls the gate closed, leaving his shovel stuck into the Andes.
Ossian is struggling again to get free of bel’s arms and get over to Sherlock.
“I am taking him in to get his jacket.”
Bel starts toward the house, but Ossi breaks free, landing in the snow piled up from the driveway.
“The United States of American Money, that’s where we live now.”
“I get it, Lark. Macadamia is installing a cabinet of billionaires”
“Yeah, Fred, that is a basic part of the operating system.”
Steve takes off his gloves, holds them under his arm, and blows into his cupped hands.
“One of his algorithms!”
“Remember, the Massachusetts Bay Colony was also a for-profit company.”
“How could I forget those, Pilgrims, Lark?”
“Yeah, but the myth leaves out that part. It’s all freedom, Indians, corn, and fish.”
“That’s what myths are for! Feel good!”
“Okay, Steve, let’s get real and recall our revolution was about wealthy white landowners keeping more of their money.”
“Well, sure, our founding documents are aspirational.”
“They didn’t think the rest of the population worthy of their attention!”
“That was customary, back then.”
“That doesn’t make it right!”
“No, it’s just a historical fact.”
We can hear the blade of Albrecht’s plow scraping loudly over a speed bump.
His Hummer, with the blade still attached, pulls up. He rolls down his window.
“Hi, there party goers!”
Steve waves, “Thanks for the plowing job!”
“Sure, Steve, all for our beautiful new America!”
“What’s new about your plowing? Haven’t you been doing that for us for the last four years or more?”
“Sure, have Lark. Nice looking dog you got there.”
“This is Sherlock.”
“Wow! Is he yours?”
The Hummer stalls.
“This thing needs a tune-up. I am going to trade it in on one of those Tesla trucks as soon as the weather clears.”
Albrecht restarts the Hummer which misfires and belches a cloud of exhaust.
“You know, Lark, our country has always been about work, money, and prosperity.”
“Right, for some. Others can work hard all their lives and barely make a living.”
“Of course! This world has always been full of losers.”
“Not losers, not in that sense, most people were kept down by class and race-based slavery.”
“That is over now. The race now, will be a competition to get rich in our newly liberated economy.”
Steve looks over at bel. “Maybe”.
Albrecht revvs his engine.
“I’ve got to get this thing moving!”
Two SUVs are waiting to get past the plow on the narrow strip of road he has cleared.
Bel has caught up with Ossi and given up on getting his coat.
Lark gives Sherlock and Ossie treats.
“Have you heard of Pete Pigsbreth, bel?”
“No, Lark, who?”
“Pigsbreth, he is National Director of Local Coordination or NDLC.”
“What does NDLC do?”
“Bel, it spies on every community to make sure we fall for Macadamia’s nonsense.”
“Well, that is getting done online!”
“No, this is personal. They want to make it personal.”
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s PR, every community has its Albrecht Intaglio, who works for NDLC.”
“Well Lark, as far as I can see, politics is mainly online now.”
“Sure, bel, there is no substance just slogans and distractions.”
“I think Macadamia’s algorithms are plugged into every hate group in the country.”
“Right again bel, the program feeds them what they want to hear.”
Steve is still trying to warm his hands but lowers them from his mouth to speak.
“The education system let us down there.”
“How?”
“Lark, we aren’t teaching the whole person.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just mean students should learn to think for themselves.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No, well, I know I am being unrealistic.”
“Bel drops another treat for Ossi.
“Remember we have grown up watching TV commercials.”
“Right, TikTok vids are short and punchy like ads.”
“Yup, a small transition from selling the latest new soap.”
Sherlock pulls hard and Lark steadies herself on a fence post.
“Yeah, the only new thing was the label!”
“Now we all get political labels.”
Steve puts his hands back up against his breath.
“Right, distractions!”
“When Boyd was a high school junior, I had to explain to him how the House and Senate differ.”
Steve puts his gloves back on.
“Yeah, civics seems to have dropped out.”
“Well, Boyd was always kind of preoccupied in his teens.”
Bel distracts Ossi with another treat.
“I can tell you schools differ enormously”
Steve is edging toward his shovel
“A good school district is nearly always high income.”
“Doesn’t that tell you something!”
Bel keeps Ossi close despite his protests.
Lark can’t hold Sherlock back any longer.
“Looks like we are moving on!”
