It is the near future and The US is still in a Depression, only now it’s far worse than anyone had ever imagined. The banks have foreclosed on 80% of private residences, leaving the majority of suburbia looking like ghost towns and cities are filling with roach motels. People are living on top of each other, sometimes six to room. No longer can anyone afford privacy. Personal space is a thing of the past.I had a corner to call my own in a loft apartment of an industrial warehouse with a bunch of young people. It was like a refugee camp, bodies of people camping on their section of the floor. There was little water to go around because the price of water had skyrocketed. Everyone slept in his or her own filth.
A bald, rabid, tattooed guy was being very mean to me, making fun of me. He yelled, pointing his finger in my face, going on about how I never married because I always pick the wrong guy. Perhaps he was flirting with me, but he did so in such a cruel and aggressive manner, upsetting me so much I had to get out of there. I began filling my backpack with what little I had left. It was important to travel lightly. One could never be sure when it was time to relocate. My friend Maggie came out of one of the bedrooms and offered me a cookie to stay. It was her place, paid for years ago in full by her rich father. Food was scarce, and sweets were very hard to come by. I said no, and as I was leaving, Edgar – my former boyfriend – walked thru the front door of the loft space. Maggie liked being surrounded by men. It made her feel safe. Not knowing our past and liking the looks of him, immediately offered him lodging, promising him my corner spot on the floor in exchange for providing her with cigarettes. We did not even acknowledge each other as I brushed past him in disgust.
The clouds in the sky were very dark, giving the air an ominous feel. As I wandered through the streets looking for somewhere to sleep for the night, I heard music coming from a church that had been converted into a nightclub. The dark clouds made it feel like night, even though it was mid afternoon. The club was in full effect, drawing people who needed to seek solace from the dire conditions.
A “new and improved” drug was introduced to the public, almost overnight, that relieved people of their depression instantly. It gave you a euphoric sensation like ecstasy, but without losing your faculties. In fact, it sharpened and heightened your senses. It made you feel uplifted and focused, like you could conquer anything. Of course, people everywhere had been depressed for too long, and the drug was being abused socially. People were grinding it up into a light blue powder and snorting it around the clock.
Unfortunately, the government was none too happy about the ease with which people could get their hands on it. It was released “by the people for the people” by a brilliant billionaire for no cost. It was everywhere.
As I approached the steps of the converted church, I saw a crowd of people surrounding the actor Bill Nighy, who was wearing an American Indian chief headdress and being interviewed for a live news broadcast on the sidewalk in front of the church steps. He was the inventor of this new drug and the white, red, and light blue feathers that framed his face and trailed to the ground bounced as he described the properties of it and the chemical breakdown. He explained how it differs from any other drug from the past because there were no negative side effects to the body whatsoever. He came across as a modern day Timothy Leary/Dirty Harry. Then, in the middle of the interview, he leaned over a metal divider and spit onto the road.
I climbed the steps towards the grand entrance of the club and saw several vaguely familiar faces who offered me a place to stay and some of this new drug. I didn’t want to take it, nor did I want to go inside this club. I sat down on the steps and watched people go in and out of the entrance, constantly putting the backs of their hands up to their noses to sniff the little blue powder they had poured there. Someone put some in front of my face and before I knew what was happening, my face grew numb. Just as I lit a cigarette, my Dad walked up, wearing a tee shirt and cut off shorts and no shoes. I threw the cigarette down before he could see me. He was in good spirits (most likely from the drug because it seemed as if everyone was on it!) and when he saw me, his face beamed as told me someone had stolen his tent. He had found a nice spot near my friend Dominic Chianese from NY, but when he went back there later in the day, Dominic was passed out and someone had taken all of his gear. He smiled as he retold the story.
I felt such sadness for my Dad. I couldn’t even help myself, so what could I do for him? My dad was homeless! But he seemed fine with it, not a care in the world. He continued on down the street in his bare feet. It broke my heart.
Everyone seemed alert and aware that something big was about to happen. It was only a matter of time until the people revolted, because the government had all our money and had turned the United States into a third world country. Unemployment was at almost 100% because there was no money to pay anyone to do anything. The dollar had ceased to have any value whatsoever.
Somewhere within earshot, the news was being broadcast through huge speakers. It blended in with the music coming from the club behind me. The top story was the government’s concern for the impending revolution. They were uncertain as to how far people would go while taking this new drug that seemed to render people uninhibited but ready for action. The problem the government faced was that the drug was released before they could place any kind of restriction on it and they were afraid of ‘rogues’. As I stood there listening to this news broadcast, the sky opened up and it began to pour rain. Everyone ran inside the club. I stood on the steps, getting drenched in rain. The streets were empty. Then, I heard a rumbling. Out of nowhere, Edgar appeared. He was driving a black 1971 mustang fastback, wearing a black shirt and a black hat. I stood there on the steps of the church, watching him slowly pass. I watched as he turned the corner. And then, he vanished.
