Chapter 19: Protest 5

hop hop hop hop hop hipity hop! love will find a way!


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE
CHAPTER 19
The source of the chanting was visible now. Hundreds of marchers approached along the north side of the street. “Back to nature! Back to freedom!” they chanted on and on. Samantha turned her microphone on as the grey-green sky unleashed a stinging downpour. The foursome ducked beneath Gilbert’s umbrella.
“Once again this is Samantha Williams reporting for KBOO live from the Park blocks. Hitherto uneventful, this Primitivist rally is about to receive quite an infusion of life. Hundreds are now converging on us here at Park and Main. Back to you, Phil. I’ll check in shortly.”
The Mayor spoke while crouching and pressing in close to Peggy in order to stay dry. “Well, Samantha, the dolphins want me to shut up for now.”
“It’s been interesting,” she said. “Here.” She handed the Mayor a business card. “Let’s get together and talk over drinks sometime. Off the record I want you all to know that I think this universe is overwhelmingly absurd and anything is possible.”
The Mayor shoved her card into his pocket. “God knows I’m no guru,” he said.
“I’m just some guy trying to make sense of this sick society, and for me the best way to start is by questioning the most basic assumptions. Mankind is not the be all and end--”
“Back to nature! Back to freedom!” The shouting, marching mass was upon them, streaming from the street onto the grided blocks of green. Sirens ripped open the air. Police cars and motorcycles rumbled forth from all directions, forcing the newcoming protesters off the streets.
Gilbert looked with alarm at his companions. “They’re penning us in like sheep.”
Peggy clutched Gilbert’s hand. Clacking hooves. Cops on horseback. Bicycle cops. Cops on foot grunting and rooting through the crowd.
The Mayor beheld the spectacle and laughed. “Behold the pigs of the apocalypse,” he said. “The New World Order stinks like pig shit.”
Samantha spoke into her microphone. “Heaviest police presence I’ve ever seen in Portland, Phil. We’re being herded into close quarters. I don’t know how much longer--”
A few yards away a man bellowed through a bullhorn. “Stay calm everybody, and thanks for coming. On behalf of the Portland Anarcho-Primitivist society I’ll give a few introductory remarks, and then I’ll turn over the proceedings to the first of our guest speakers. Be good to the police. They’re here to protect us. Now . . .”
Gilbert and Peggy were pushed by the crowd away from the Mayor and Samantha.
“Don’t let go of my hand, Gilbert. We’re in a fuckin’ hurricane of humanity.”
“I’m looking for a way out. Let’s keep moving toward Park street.” But it was slow going. A cop pushed past them, slamming into Peggy’s shoulder in the process.
“Fucking hurricane,” she said. “With no eye to rest in.”
The Mayor squirmed past a few hippies, scrunched his nose at their reek, then found himself beside the bullhorn man, though his eyes were fixed on three black vans which had just pulled up to the curb at the far side of the street. Squinting, the Mayor could see two men standing in front of each van. A girl beside the Mayor had binoculars around her neck. “Can I look through those for a sec?” he said. She handed them over.
The Mayor saw the men clearly now. Dressed in black suits with black shirts and black ties and black sunglasses, their grey lips straight, revealing nothing. “Oh my god,” he said while handing back the binoculars. He spun to the bullhorn man. “I’ll be needing this.”
The Mayor tried to stay calm as he shouted to the masses. “Folks, I’ll be brief. I’m sure that most of you here realize that civilization is a toilet.” Amid a great uproar of cheers the Mayor paused, but only briefly. “It’s a shiny thing but full of shit. It flushes and the shit flows elsewhere, the bowl fills up with clean water till the next load of shit and so forth.” More cheering. “We’ve been sold shit-filled lives and it’s time we’ve demanded a refund.” The crowd swayed undulously, a boiling sea of bodies, angry arms thrusting upwards. Peggy and Gilbert craned their necks to see the Mayor, but they could only make out the upraised bullhorn. The Mayor, inflated, eyes enormous and blistering took a deep breath as five cops pushed towards him. “Our leaders are lizards and it’s time we’ve demanded from the lizards a refund.” The cops were slowly closed in. The Mayor mouthed a silent prayer to the holy mushroom, then he screamed with venom. “Don’t buy their fuckin’ toys! Don’t watch their fuckin’ TVs! Don’t go to their fuckin’ schools and jobs! Don’t vote for their fuckin’ lackeys! Let’s say no to their whole fuckin’ system of slavery and death, and once and for all time let’s shut this toilet down!”
The crowd erupted, frenzied, bouncing on their feet. “Shut this toilet down,” boomed out from hundreds of throats. The cops shouted, “Shut yer fuckin’ mouths!” and swatted at the human obstacles, who couldn’t move out of the way, with lead batons. Retaliatory attacks broke out. The people punched and kicked but were no match for the official brutality blindly unleashed against them.
“Shut this toilet down!”
“Shut yer fuckin’ mouths!”
The Mayor chanted euphorically. Tears streamed his face, reddened with the glory of a life that matched the moment. A few yards in front of him a young boy, flanked by his parents, stood with his back to the cops. Officer Jones led the cop parade. His eyes fixed with rage upon the Mayor. Reaching for his can of pepper spray he thought, gonna shut you up you piss-poor piece of trash, you goddamn anti-Ameri--
Thack! Crush! The boy’s mother screamed.
Officer Jones’ chest whacked the boy at head level, knocking him face first into the wet grass. Jones’ next steel-booted step crushed the boy’s head in. The other four cops, caring only about silencing the target, followed, trampling the boy’s frail body. The boy’s
mother sprung into action, reaching out for him, screaming, “Gabriel! Gabriel! Gaa--”
Punch!
Officer Fitzgerald, having seen the woman as a threat to the Homeland, walloped her in the stomach, sending her reeling backwards into her husband’s arms in agony.
“You fuckin’ pigs,” she said, hacking up blood. “I’m six months pregnant.”
The cops ignored the woman. The Mayor beheld the spectacle and continued to lead the chant, “Shut this toilet down!”
“Shut yer fuckin’ mouth!” Jones shouted, then barked to his colleagues, “Fitz, Johnson--go right. Zimsky and me’ll go left. Let’s shut this dirtbag up. God bless the United States of America.”