Overdue
by Ken Hurley
Marjorie thought her punishment was unjust. She didn’t understand her offense. She sat on a straight hardback chair. Her elbows rested on the knarly old oak table in front of her. Her hands covered her red puffy eyes. She struggled to catch her breath between uncontrollable quiet sobs. Her surroundings were unfamiliar. Where was she? She knew she would soon be made to do unspeakable things she had never imagined would happen to her. She was scared. She felt alone. Helpless. Silence was enforced. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t whisper. She peeked around the room between jags of silent tears. It was large and dimly lit except for a small green-shaded brass lamp which sat on the table. How had she come to this? Why was this happening to her?
She reviewed the events of her life to reconstruct what might have led to her predicament. She discarded the notion she was in this terrible place because she voted for Trump. This is America. We don’t convict and punish people because of how we cast our vote. She then wondered if perhaps she was here because she voted for Trump, twice? Could that be the reason she was to suffer? Voted twice for him? She sobbed and sobbed and began to pray. But God wasn’t listening.
She was approached by a cherub of an elderly lady with a bun of gray hair atop her round head. Her eyeglasses rested on her bosom, held by a delicate gold chain around her neck that happened to lie across a small colorful dragonfly tattoo. Her fragrance seemed familiar. Lavender moth balls? Her lips pursed a half smile. Her mud-brown eyes offered a long dark gaze that beckoned — “you’re in my hands now.”
She spoke softly, directly, with immense authority and a gravelly, vocal fry, whose glottal wobbled more than a Bahamian hammock. Her finger tips were yellow. A life long Lucky Striker.
“My name is Eeee-lizbeth. Do you know why you’re here?”
Marjorie sat straight up. Frightened. Her hands trembled. She choked, coughed, and whimpered, “No, ma’am.”
“You have all the symptoms of one who needs to experience what happens in this room. You are here for remediation.”
“Where am I?” Whispered Marjorie.
“Where are you? You really don’t know? This is worse than I thought. We’re going to have to take things real slowly with you.”
“Please. Please,” begged Marjorie.
“Look around you! What do you see?” shouted Elizabeth, breaking the hush hush.
Marjorie looked left and right and swiveled in her chair to look behind her. She looked up at the high, ornate ceiling. She looked back at Elizabeth. “I don’t know?”
Elizabeth pivoted on her heels and began to pace as she muttered softly to herself, “How shall we begin? This is going to be painful.” Marjorie heard her mumbles and fear swelled throughout her body.
Elizabeth stopped and turned to face Marjorie as she commanded, “Stand!” Marjorie struggled. Weak from emotional exhaustion, paralyzed by her images of the horrors about to unfold, she slowly stood.
“Face left. Now, face right and tell me again you do not know what is before you.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I do not know,” she cried.
Elizabeth was enraged but kept her cool and then bellowed, “Books! You are surrounded by shelves and shelves of beautiful books! You are in the Great Library of America, the only known remedy for the intellectually lazy and willfully ignorant. You will be under my supervision until we decide you have sufficient knowledge and proficient application of the resources available free to you so that you can return to society as a fully functional and literate individual who can discern the difference between a swindle and a fair future. It won’t be easy. You’ll have to learn to enjoy reading. You’ll have to read authentic opposing viewpoints. You’ll have to learn to think. You’ll have to learn how to think critically. You’ll have to learn how to act responsibly toward yourself and others. You’ll have to demonstrate you’ll never vote for a individual or party that has repeatedly stood in the way of human progress. After that, you’ll be left alone. But you’ll be better prepared to pursue happiness.”
Their eyes locked. There was a long silence. Then Elizabeth spoke softly, “Meanwhile, let’s begin by reading the United States Constitution. Together. Have a seat.”
