A Social Carol

By Gregory Coffin

The story begins with Evan Sanders in a hospital as the last protest he participated in turned violent. The protest was directed at different targets, but Evan was focused on the deals between a prominent businessman and the governor, and the extra deals between them. However, other elements among the protesters were focused on other businesses for different reasons, with different levels of protesting: the store that received the most attention for its luxury was a nearby jewelry store. The protest escalated, windows were broken, some protesters rushed in and during the violence as Evan tried to stop the fighting from escalating, his friend Jimmy was killed.

While being examined at the hospital, a doctor looks at a mole and advises Evan to see another doctor to look at it; the mole bothered Evan anyway and he was going to have it examined. Hungry and angry, Evan stole from a vendor seeing the vendor as part of the system of exploitation that was to be rebelled against. After the theft, Evan visits Doctor Baldwin who refused government payment, but agreed and bartered with Evan for the examination. While Evan is at the clinic, he sees the businessman he protested: Unwin. Unwin is trying to lure another doctor who seeks employment with Baldwin, because he had to close his own clinic from all the regulations. Evan gets his examination; however, afterward he gets arrested for the theft.

While in jail, Evan is visited by Jimmy's ghost who confides to Evan about the erroneous path he was on. To help Evan get off the wrong, collectivist path that led to Jimmy's torment, Evan will be visited by three spirits: the Spirit of Money Naught, the Spirit of Money Aught and the Spirit of State Regulation. They will try to change Evan's collectivist course for a Capitalistic course.

Each spirit will take Evan to a world that is based off what Evan had originally hoped for, and from there Evan will see the full consequences - intended and unintended - of what he wants to have in place for society. The Spirit of Money Naught shows what the world will be like if the formal formation of money was denied; the Spirit of Money Aught shows what the world will be like if money was continuously printed so all could have some; the Spirit of State regulation will show the world whereby all actions are to be supervised by the State to ensure everyone was treated fairly. In each world, Evan sees the same people he knows in life, but they each act accordingly to the world that the spirit is showing Evan.

After experiencing the worlds represented by the spirits, Evan learns and changes his course. He finds how he was wrong and starts again, working toward the same end of contributing to society to help improve it, but in a different manner than the force he originally thought was necessary. He seeks out to talk to each one who was in the worlds he visited, and talk about what he learned. But, not all see that his new course is correct.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gregory Coffin
• Release date: Sep 2, 2012
• ISBN: 9780985980627

Gregory Coffin

Morality first; pragmatism second.I have earned PhD in Psychology (cognitive and evolutionary focus), and a Masters of Science in Forensic Psychology.Contributor in Volume 1, 2013 of The Voluntary Voice.My 4 fiction books (Sterling Honor, The Gospel of Reason, A Social Carol, and The Justified Trilogy) are available as audiobooks at Audible.com, and in print at Amazon.com.

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A Social Carol

Gregory Coffin

Copyright © 2012 by Gregory Coffin

ISBN: 978-0-9859806-2-7

Smashwords Edition

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Contents

Stave 1

Stave 2

Stave 3

Stave 4

Stave 5

Stave One

There was no doubt about it: Jimmy Marcus was dead.

Evan Sanders sat in the emergency room as numerous doctors, nurses, cops and patients ran about, tending the sick, securing prisoners and being treated. He was being treated by both the medical staff, as well as the police officer who being untrusting had handcuffed Evan to the hospital bed.

Though there was a great amount of commotion, screams of pain and panic, and commands for help, sutures, and anesthetic as well as medical and legal updates. Evan barely noticed any of it. He barely even noticed that his wrist had the uncomfortable bracelet provided by the officer; if Evan wanted to go anywhere, he would have to take the bed with him. It wasn’t the handcuff on his wrist that held his attention; it was the blood that stained his clothes keeping his attention.

When he was first brought in Evan was allowed a moment to wash, but he could barely move. His hands still had blood on them, though they had some of it cleaned off. His shirt, pants and shoes were covered with blood that had begun to dry in the fabric. Fortunately for Evan, the blood was not his; unfortunately for Evan, the blood belonged to Jimmy Marcus. Jimmy Marcus is, rather was, Evan’s long-time friend.

The moments that Evan could coalesce into a clear image were the events leading up to what happened. He had attended so many protests, and they never had any issue.

What had gone so wrong at this protest?

Were businesses getting sweet deals from the government, leaving the people to pay and suffer?—yes.

That is what the occupy protest was for. Well, not all the protestors were for that, but at least the ones Evan was with… for the most part. Even Jimmy wasn’t totally in league with Evan, but was in agreement in protesting the businesses… for the most part.

Were there ‘peace’ officers dressed in riot gear?—yes.

They generally have always dressed as such, but most of the time the worst one was just using Pepper spray.

Were there businesses present that could be blocked, and those evil rich be prevented from exploiting the masses?—yes.

But, they just argued and didn’t do more than that.

Was the group of protesters there to be non-violent?—yes. Most of the people with Evan were just there to protest, not to do anything else. Jimmy on the other hand, decided that the ante needed to be upped. There were a couple others who were thinking that protesting wasn’t enough; they were only a few of the hundreds that were protesting outside the jewelry store.

Next to the jeweler was a point of contention amongst the protesters: Albatros Industries. To Evan, they were a greedy profiteer in bed with the government; to others, Albatros Industries was a noble group helping people, owned by the Trajan family. Unwin Trajan is a champion of social justice, and is in charge of the hospital.

The heat of the day and the crowds spurred the more hostile elements in the protesters; collectives can smolder, becoming self-igniting. In an otherwise already agitated group, the excessive ones were like a virus spreading their agitation. Jimmy, a little more prone to such a sway raised the level and got a couple more to follow him.

Or, was it that he was pressed upon to heighten the conflict?

Both?

Evan was uncertain.

At first, the escalation was just throwing some eggs, then empty bottles, but then it became bricks. One of the bricks broke a window of the jewelry store. Large shards of glass flew about and one piece cut one of the shopkeeper's wife's legs. With the broken glass and those who threw it trying to rouse those behind them to storm the shop, the shopkeeper became even more agitated; both fear and anger coursed through his veins. One of the main agitators who broke the window rushed through the broken plane, ready to heave another brick. The shopkeeper raised a shotgun and first fired a warning shot. The agitator’s friend threw his brick, striking the shopkeeper in the shoulder and staggering him. The first protester and shopkeeper fought as the agitator tried to take the gun. The shotgun was dropped in the scuffle and the weapon went off, wounding the wife's arm.

Jimmy picked up the shotgun.

The police were in full rush after the sound of the first shotgun blast, but still had masses to filter through; some of whom were trying to flee when they heard the shots. In their full riot gear, the police rushed in beating and tossing out of the way whoever remained in their way, or didn't move out of the way fast enough. Jimmy was with the agitators who were screaming at the shopkeeper, who was shouting back. The shopkeeper was now trying to wrestle the shotgun away from Jimmy. Evan had Jimmy’s back, but tried to deescalate the situation, and calm everyone down. The police came in and saw the men fighting with a shotgun.

Jimmy wrestled it away.

One cop, faceless, only having the glare of fluorescent and incandescent lights reflecting off his visor, raised his shotgun and shot Jimmy in the face. Evan, standing behind Jimmy, was splattered with Jimmy’s blood and brains. It was over as quickly as it began, but one was dead and more were wounded.

Aside from the incident with Jimmy, there were numerous protesters beginning to fight numerous cops. Pepper spray, clubs and fists went through the air striking others; protesters and police alike were bloodied. Though in shock, Evan could see some of the protesters try and stop the fighting, while others pressed the fight on; the same was true for members of the police with some trying to quell the situation, and others to further the violence.

Evan stood in place, but robotically looked about the chaos around him, and the blood coving him. He was arrested, but also taken for treatment for it was hard to tell whose blood he had on him.

The doctor that saw Evan never looked him in the eyes. From notes on a clip board, to examinations of skin after clothes were cut away, the only change in the doctor’s demeanor was when he looked over a mole. A quick ‘hmm’ was all that the doctor offered before continuing on. Slight as it was, the ‘hmm’ caught Evan’s attention. It brought him back from his daze some as it was returning him to an awareness of something he was concerned about prior to the day’s events. Now was, unfortunately, as good or bad as any.

Evan asked How’s the mole look?

Without bothering to look at it again, the doctor replied Oh, it's… well. I don’t think it's anything but if want to waste someone else’s time on it, you should have it looked at. But, my opinion is that it’s nothing.

Incredulous, Evan said "That’s what I’m doing, now. I’m asking you: how does it look?-if it's nothing, why refer me?"

The doctor, visibly becoming perturbed remaining with this patient, glanced at the mole with the speed of not getting any detail It looks like… go see a dermatologist. The doctor then walked out the door, said to the cop monitoring Evan Blood isn’t his; he is otherwise fine, and then the doctor left.

Another police officer, a female officer, entered the room. She undid Evan's handcuffs, handed him some clean clothes You can clean up some more if you'd like. She then pulled the first officer aside, as if to speak in confidence. After washing up some, changing clothes and returning to the bed, Evan couldn’t make out all that was said. He was becoming more aware after getting cleaned up some with extra clothes that were left behind from… he didn’t want to think about how the clothes were left at the hospital. The clothes were clean and that’s what mattered. From the officers' conversation, a couple of key words Evan could distinguish were: ‘security camera,’ ‘wasn’t fighting,’ ‘trespass’ and ‘buddy killed.’ With buddy killed, Evan remembered Jimmy and felt himself begin to drift again into his personal void.

As quickly as she entered, the female officer left. The officer who remained watching Evan approached him. With the look of one who knew what it was like to lose a friend as such, he said to Evan Listen. I just got word you weren’t one of the guys who started this, but were trying to stop what happened from happening. With what happened, I appreciate what you tried and I am sorry for your loss. We will need you to answer a few questions and make a statement, but that can be done later. Go home and rest. Do you need a ride home?

Evan was able to understand what was said to him, though words spoken weren’t coming to him too clearly. With the doctor and now the officer, as with everyone else spoken words were muffled. Evan's head ached. It felt as though he had a large, thick blanket wrapping around his head numerous times, absorbing sound and constricting his skull. The physical stress of being in an enclosed space where a shotgun was fired a couple times, along with his friend’s death, added to his miserable condition.

Looking at the officer, not caring that he was a cop for he was being friendly; Evan was ready to accept any help to get out of the hospital. Meekly, Evan simply replied Yes. The officer gave Evan a ride home. There, Evan showered an extra-long and hot shower, and then slept.

After almost 20 hours of sleep, Evan awoke feeling agitated. He sat up in the bed, covers still half-draped across his body. Though in bed for such a long time, his body felt clean; his mind, however, still felt muddied, bloodied. There was a rush of thoughts and feelings coursing through his veins and arteries, assaulting his heart and his brain.

Should he feel happy that he’s alive, or guilt?-he felt both.

Should he feel anger that the police killed his friend?-he did, and he wanted to feel angry.

However, there was also that part of him that saw the officer coming into an area where shots have been fired, numerous people fighting and coming to meet someone holding a shotgun.

Evan then remembered the cop who shot Jimmy; faceless, armored, aggressive and quick to shoot. Jimmy didn’t get a warning; he was simply standing there… holding a shotgun that he took from the shopkeeper… ‘damn you, Jimmy’ Evan thought. ‘Did you come for a fight? Why’d you join those others looking for a fight? Damn you, Jimmy. Why’d that cop shoot first?-damn the both of you.’

Guilt and anger continued to mix until one other feeling outweighed them both. Evan’s stomach began growling. The full feeling of how hungry he was now came to the fore, and Evan realized it had been more than an entire day since he last eaten anything. Rousing himself out of bed, leaving the sheets and blankets askew, Evan staggered into the kitchen.

Food would be so good; it wouldn’t matter what it was. A body starved sees practically anything edible as gourmet. Evan saw that there was a message on the answering machine. It could be listened to while he ate. He pressed the play button. It was a message from his mother Honey. I hope you’re okay, and I’m so sorry about Jimmy. I’m already getting together with the church to get a petition to get law enforcement to include some biblical teaching, for it they had some more of that, they wouldn’t have been so quick to… Evan didn’t let the message finish before deleting it. Hunger can be worsened when other things are nagging at the body and mind; Evan didn’t want to hear anything about what had happened.

When opening the fridge door, Evan's starved body, especially his nose quickly reminded him that not all things are edible. The stench of rotten eggs wafted through, and filled the room as the opened door pulled the smell out from where it festered. Aside from the stench, the refrigerator was warm and nearly empty; the rotten food was only joined with rotten milk and condiments such as ketchup and mustard. Though empty of nutrition, Evan’s stomach tried to heave out its remaining contents: just acid. He threw up just enough to worsen the bad taste in his mouth to join the foul odor from the spoiled food. Evan slammed the door shut as he dry-heaved. He damned the refrigerator for not working, and the food for not being more present.

With one hand clutching at an empty stomach, he used the other to hit the door on the fridge that had the audacity to be empty of anything good. With anger filling him in proportion that his stomach was empty, guilt remained, but waned. Evan knew it was time to get dressed, and go out. It was time to do some things, especially get something to eat. He began dressing. When putting his wallet in his pocket, he remembered that aside from old ticket stubs, it was nearly empty. He just had a couple dollars to his name. Undeterred, he thought of a plan, grinned, finished dressing and walked out.

Out on the street, Evan looked up and saw a man selling food from his cart kiosk. A couple dollars wouldn’t buy much. As he walked toward the cart, Evan looked at the man who owned the cart and was processing an order. Evan then looked at the food. Damn, that hamburger looked good – too expensive.

What else was there?

Some things that would need to be cooked… that’d take too long.

Ready to go?—there were pre-made sandwiches, bags of chips, various candy bars, even some pieces of fruit. The triple-stack sandwich of roast beef, turkey and ham combined with lettuce, tomatoes, mayonnaise all layered within and divided by three pieces of bread… that is what looked the best; at five dollars by itself, too expensive.

Thinking on what he could afford, Evan looked at the man again. Looking at the man Evan saw something bothersome about his face, his look, standing there by his cart and taking the fee he charged from people who were like Evan: hungry. This man was making money off people and their hunger; for a moment, Evan saw the jewelry store owner: wealthy and selling superficiality. That man had received enough.

The cart owner finished with the last customer, saw Evan’s approach, and gave him an amicable smile. With a big, welcoming smile Evan stepped up to the man and with a quick movement pushed the man’s shoulders. At the same time, Evan swung out his foot to catch the falling owner’s foot so he couldn’t brace himself; the owner fell. Evan grabbed the sandwich he was eying, along with a bag of chips and ran off. The owner got back up, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to catch Evan. Even if the owner could catch Evan, he didn’t want to leave his cart; alone, more could come and steal from it. One just stole from him and he heard about ‘flash mobs.’ He may have been ambushed by one, but he wouldn’t fall for a full mob assault without a fight. Brushing himself off, he packed up and moved his cart away. Angry and sore from the fall, he apologized to the remaining customers, but said he couldn’t remain. The other hungry would-be customers complained, and watched him leave. Their stomachs remained empty.

After running a decent distance away, Evan tore open the wrapping and tossed it aside. Like one who hasn’t eaten in more than a day (for he hasn’t) he gulped down the sandwich; big bites, few chews and not even a minute later the sandwich was gone. Quickly eating the chips, Evan looked at the mole that had him concerned. Remembering the words of the doctor who examined him, Evan liked the ‘don’t think it is anything’ but couldn’t discount the ‘see a dermatologist.’

Pulling out his phone, Evan dialed the one who he knew he could rely on for advice about who’d be a good doctor to visit: he called his mother. Her first response included pleas for his soul, calls about the police needing some bible-based training to prevent such a quick resort to gunfire. However, and true to his expectation she had an answer: Dr. Baldwin Clark. He was a new doctor in the area, and Evan’s mother’s choice after searching for a new doctor; the family doctor that served the Sanders family for years,