Chasing the Wind

By Kathryn

Brownie was living the life most men would have admired. He had his lucrative profession, his wonderful wife, his beautiful daughter, a modest home on a hill in a valley where every morning they awakened to see the sun-lite Rockies in all their glory. And every morning he thanked God for his good fortune. But things were not as they appeared.

The day started as normal. Both he and his wife had fulfilled their respective obligations for the day, had finished dinner and had just taken their coffee to the veranda when Brownie's cell chirped. Unknown. Absentmindedly, he answered. Their lives would never be the same.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Aug 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781982232481

Kathryn

Upon retiring from medicine, Kathryn began writing. Through her imagination she delves into an array of relevant aspects of todays society as well as some of the more recent unique medical conditions that plague mankind.

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Copyright © 2019 Kathryn.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Balboa Press

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-9822-3247-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-3249-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-3248-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019911175

Balboa Press rev. date:  08/13/2019

CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 43

CHAPTER 44

CHAPTER 45

CHAPTER 46

CHAPTER 47

CHAPTER 48

CHAPTER 49

CHAPTER 50

CHAPTER 51

CHAPTER 52

CHAPTER 53

CHAPTER 54

CHAPTER 55

CHAPTER 56

CHAPTER 57

CHAPTER 58

CHAPTER 59

CHAPTER 60

CHAPTER 61

CHAPTER 62

CHAPTER 63

CHAPTER 64

CHAPTER 65

CHAPTER 66

CHAPTER 67

CHAPTER 68

CHAPTER 69

CHAPTER 70

CHAPTER 71

CHAPTER 72

CHAPTER 73

CHAPTER 74

CHAPTER 75

CHAPTER 76

CHAPTER 77

CHAPTER 78

CHAPTER 79

CHAPTER 80

CHAPTER 81

CHAPTER 82

CHAPTER 83

CHAPTER 84

CHAPTER 86

CHAPTER 87

CHAPTER 88

CHAPTER 89

CHAPTER 90

CHAPTER 91

CHAPTER 93

CHAPTER 93

CHAPTER 94

CHAPTER 94

CHAPTER 96

CHAPTER 97

CHAPTER 98

CHAPTER 99

CHAPTER 100

CHAPTER 101

CHAPTER 102

CHAPTER 103

CHAPTER 104

CHAPTER 105

CHAPTER 106

CHAPTER 107

CHAPTER 108

CHAPTER 109

CHAPTER 110

CHAPTER 106

CHAPTER

1

"Y ou have no idea who you’re dealing with, the very idea their mortality ever crossed their mind. They attained their positions of power through every devious act and response satanic forces in this world have ever devised. The very thought the decisions they’ve made were anything other than the best for their constituency has never been a thought they’ve owned. Greed, murder, lies, subterfuge…these eight have done it all. They’re never wrong! They never die! They just hand their ideas and gavel over to someone who thinks and acts and carries on the diabolical existence they’ve created.

"You’re too young to remember when the Speaker of the House was female. As a progressive in her party she held the power of the gavel all of two years. When the election was over, and the conservatives won both houses of Congress as well as the presidency, she became livid. As a ranking Democrat, she did everything within her ability to coerce and manipulate her parties members to stop whatever the new regime had to offer. Four years later, at the end of the presidential term, her progressive party took back the House.

"I’ll never forget the setting. At her swearing in, when handed the gavel, she took it as though it might break or crumble or fly away. With a firm grip on a piece of wood made by man, she gazed upon it and held it, I might add, as if it were God himself. Issuing a smile and a giggle, her possession of the carved, wooden mallet enveloped all her maneuvering, all her promises, and her outright lies. She punched the air above her head with the gavel firmly in her right hand, as if to say ‘this is who you have to be in order to regain power.’

That one act alone was the foreboding of the state of affairs to come. Hell hath no fury like that of a woman denied the gavel!

Attempting something he’d never done before, he listened to the distorted voice coming from his cell, wondering if it was too late to refuse what was being asked of him. Probably. But then, probably was such an ambiguous word!

CHAPTER

2

D own here in five minutes or I’m leaving! It wouldn’t have been the first time Brownie had left his sister behind as he walked to the bus stop. A quarter mile from their house, she could’ve easily caught up. Don’t forget your pendant!

Don’t forget yours, Brownie. You know what happens…

Mom! I’m not the problem. What takes her so long to get ready. Every morning… Walking to the foot of the stairs, Brownie intended to holler once more at his ever increasingly lazy sister.

Don’t ask, Brownie! Every school morning was the same. Cecile was always running late and Brownie always asked the same question. Their mother was glad when the weekends were a mite different.

Cissy?

Appearing at the top of the stairs, she countered, Don’t call me that! A couple years younger than Brownie didn’t make her any less of a force within the family. I’ve got my rope and I don’t need to eat anything!

Grabbing their lunch boxes from their mother, Brownie kissed her on her cheek, followed by Cecile giving her a hug. Love you, Mom.

Out the door and a good distance from the house, Brownie started to laugh. Cecile laid in bed in the mornings, determining the minutes it would take her to get ready for school. Once out of bed, she didn’t waste any time. Matching colors in the clothes she wore never took priority. Wrinkled or ill fitting, she could have cared less. Her hair suffered the same fate. You look a mess. Ever try to lay your clothes out before you go to bed? And then. Run a brush through that hair! Cecile ignored him. And look at you! Socks of a different color!

Do all brothers act the way you do? I wish I had a different…

How different? You just be happy I put up with you!

Brownie always looked sharp. At fifteen, his clothes were always clean, pressed and coordinated. He had a bit of peach fuzz on his upper lip which he tried to ignore but a brush had already been through his hair multiple times that morning.

They walked in silence for several minutes. Late spring was always a favorite of theirs. Both loved the outdoors. Catching glimpses of the snow covered mountains between the leafing trees, avoiding any hardened ruts on the road left over from winter and just enjoying the morning sounds always gave them time to be alone in their thoughts. As they got closer to the highway, Cecile spoke.

Do you think we’ll ever get rid of these chains? It’s always in the way. Why can’t I stuff it in my pocket out of sight? she asked as she fingered the pendant hanging loose around her neck. Do you think you’ll ever become a doctor?

What brought that up? You’re thinking too much, Cissy. What has your chain got to do with what I want to be? It’s just an ID chain. No big deal. Silence ensued again.

When they reached the highway, they saw the once yellow bus take its last turn before coming to a stop by their private road. After boarding, flashing their pendants before the driver, they took their seats. Giving a casual greeting to those few students already seated, they placed their backpacks on their laps. With their pendants stuffed inside their tops, they looked straight ahead, avoiding the eyes of others on the bus. Obeying their parents and keeping to themselves, avoiding any hints of disagreement, it would be just another day at school.

Charles Bannion was his given name; everyone called him Brownie. No one knew where he got the nickname but wherever it came from, it stuck, like gum in a trouser pocket. His mother always thought he got it because he was an honor student thus far in his school years. The teaching staff had asked the Bannion’s to move Brownie ahead in school, twice. Once to skip third grade and the other, to skip his sophomore year in high school. In fact, she couldn’t remember Brownie ever getting anything but straight A’s. His teachers were always impressed with his intellect: his parents not so much. Aside from being the only male heir in the family, he was treated like every other male child the Bannion’s knew. That in itself said a lot. The Bannion’s were not poor. In fact, they were by anyone’s standards above the normal yearly revenue of most people they knew.

As he grew from childhood into his teenage years, the only visible and tangible thing that changed was his physiognomy. He grew taller, the color of his hair went from ash-ugly to partial-black and his visage became one admired by all the opposite gender around him. Molly Rowan, his mothers’ friend, who resided on the ample acreage next to theirs, made the remark that she thought Brownie should’ve been a girl, his looks were so inviting. As with most friends who have more in common than not, the statement became one of disparagement between the two women, overlooked, forgiven but remembered.

In grade school his mother understood why the children, being children, thought he was playing off his teachers. They called it ‘brown nosing’ back then. So did everyone else in Neve, Colorado. Perhaps they still do. But Brownie proved himself year after year, his name appearing on the Dean’s list quarter after quarter in their small town newspaper.

The number of children attending first through eighth grade was rather large. With a minimum of twelve students per class., competition could be fierce. Not only the children in Neve attended public school but children from the surrounding farms and ranches in the area were also bused into Neve. The government had allowed the school twelve buses, one of which picked up Brownie and Cecile every school day and returned them to their ranch every afternoon. Their drop off point was a good quarter mile from their house, which meant if the weather was pleasant they’d walk both to and from the bus stop. Occasionally, when the weather was below freezing, with blowing snow and swollen drifts, they’d be given a ride. There was no room for coddling in their raising; they were strong, intelligent and extremely independent children, toughened by hard work and the elements.

Two years separated Brownie and Cecile but they could’ve passed for twins. Both had Irish blue eyes and stood about the same height until they reached high school when Brownie soared to his six foot four frame while his hair turned a miraculous black. From the time they could walk they carried themselves with dignity and an air that eventually resonated through the halls of their school. Even Cecile, being five foot eight, surprised no one with her good grades. She was the quiet type, always listening and learning. Brownie showed the same strengths. However, Brownie was rather out spoken. His impromptu manner of speaking always seemed to be filled with facts that no one else knew but were in the vein of any current conversation being conducted at the time. His parents had forgotten how many times they’d held their breath wondering what he would say next. As Jesus had done at twelve years old, speaking in the temple, coming forth with such profound Godly knowledge, Mary and Joseph were perplexed and concerned. So were Brownie’s parents. They, too, wondered just how much knowledge Brownie’s head could hold.

Brownie was particularly interested in maladies that affected his parents’ generation. Why did some people age so quickly? Why did joints wear out? Did medicine really help their situation? Or was the medicine actually impeding their health? Why were some people always cheerful and content when others had facial vexation lines. Did they appear from years of constant worry like his grandpa had told him? Or were they part of the aging process? For those questions he persisted in asking, about medicine and everything else he was interested in, his parents were frequently at a loss to give an answer.

In their teens neither of them wasted time on hobbies or chasing the opposite sex; there wasn’t time. Between school work and their chores on the ranch, at the end of each day they were tired. Their chores were demanding and expected: mucking the horse stalls, carrying feed and watering the pig’s troughs and doing small chores in the house. Every new day started with Brownie and his father tossing hay to the cattle from the back of the truck. When the white fluffy substance fell in March into May, from the time they could hold a snow shovel, both children were expected to clear paths from the house to the main barn. Their front end loader would do the rest. With warmer weather to follow the early spring, an additional chore awaited Brownie and his father. Branding the small, frolicking new born calves was a necessity to prove ownership.

CHAPTER

3

B y the time Brownie graduated from high school he was glad to leave it all behind. Ranching, although profitable for the Bannion’s, was not a line of work he wished to align himself. But then, he really hadn’t given his parents much of a choice. He’d decided to be a physician, a surgeon, at an early age. Pulling calves during a difficult birth, spreading manure on the good Lord’s terra firma or smelling burnt flesh while branding the little critters that multiplied every year was not something Brownie envisioned himself doing for his foreseeable future. Deciding early during his formative years, his future would be as far away from the ranch as was educationally possible.

His father saw his son’s future quite differently. With both parents’ in concert, Brownie was expected to assume the responsibilities of the ranch when and after he completed college, possibly getting a degree in ranch management. Brownie’s good grades, however, were not to be confused or forfeited toward the goal of a lifetime of ranching. Always thinking ahead, Brownie surmised should his parents decide for some reason not to pay for a medical degree or become unable to do so, his scholastic achievements would surely qualify him for enough scholarships to ease his anticipated monetary burden. Cecile, starting her junior year in high school, still didn’t know what she wanted to be. It was always assumed she’d attend college as well.

When Brownie left home for his first year at the University of Arizona, at six feet four, he looked like a linebacker for the Denver Broncos; muscular, deeply tanned and as his mother would be known to say, ‘extremely fit.’ Emotionally charged, he was finally on the path he’d always envisioned for himself. He’d leave behind the perils of overreach by the government that his parents had to endure. However, he would soon learn that medicine also had pitfalls and governmental controls and was not necessarily a road to financial bliss. The erosion of criteria that had supplanted the freedoms once exalted in the medical field had taken their toll on a once lucrative profession.

Politics had always been a source of conversation at the Bannion’s dinner table. Since Brownie and Cecile were both born at home, with a midwife’s assistance, they didn’t have the government mandated ‘slug’ implanted under their skin on the under side of their left arms. The Bannion’s, like so many ranch families, didn’t have a speck’s worth of trust in their government. No one was surprised when Brownie and Cecile didn’t activate the green light in the walls, normally triggered by the embedded concealed chip, as they entered the school building and again, when they entered their classrooms. Most teachers at the time regarded family ranch children to be ignorant of the times in which they were living. And since the government had no record of a live birth for either of them, they calmly went about growing up and studying, minding their own business, staying out of trouble, eliminating any need for observation by law enforcement. The government had issued them a badge on a chain to hang around their neck to prove their idenity when entering the school or any structure where their identification was necessary.

Schools had changed dramatically during the past thirty-five years. Once funded by the government, they now existed in places funded by local taxes alone. Curriculum in the schools in Neve was basically decided and taught by teachers who had rudimentary educations in state-owned colleges. The school buildings had seen better days, but the students did learn the basic importance of reading, writing and arithmetic, and U. S. history. Monetary scholarships offered to graduating high school seniors were pieces of paper that basically allowed the affluent to attend a university. In the Bannions’ case, their children’s intellect determined their higher education. At least that’s what they’d been told.

With no misgivings, he was on his way to becoming a physician, a profession he felt he was meant to fulfill. In Brownie’s mind, medicine was the only way for him to help others, people like his grandpa William, his mothers’ father who because of his Alzheimer’s’ couldn’t understand or acknowledge the path his grandson was on. It was painful for Brownie to watch his grandma, Bertha, trying to get around; her back was as crooked as a warped willow branch. As difficult as it was for her to walk, she’d made it a point to follow both Brownie and Cecile’s school activities, including attending Brownie’s graduation from high school. By the time Cecile would graduate from high school, Bertha would already be incapacitated, relegated to a life of bed rest.

As close as they were at home in Neve, their lives separated in a huge way when Cecile went to school at Berkley where she studied political science. Brownie couldn’t figure out why she chose the field she did. They were both raised in the same conservative, God fearing and loving household with, he assumed, the same values and strengths their parents had instilled in them. Whereas Brownie found it hard to watch any news, preferring FOX news if any, Cecile watched every liberal TV news station she could find. And there were plenty. Inhabited by individuals, journalists by profession, they chose to broadcast their own opinionated views and called it news instead of disseminating facts to the public of what was actually occurring. News outlets had become puppets of an unvarnished regime, hidden in plain site, only to prognosticate the demise of a culture that was once based on the rule of law. And Berkley? Was she trying to terminate her parents?

When Cecile graduated from high school, Brownie was there along with their parents, Kevin and Margaret, and friends to watch her receive her diploma. She received as many college scholarships in number as Brownie had with the only difference being that hers amounted to less funding. Competition between the two of them was never evident in their growing years or now that they were both on track to pursue their careers. At the moment, Brownie was proud to be his sister’s brother and thankful she hadn’t suffered the fate of some other senior girls, unmarried, without a job and having children without the benefit of marriage.

Cecile was as excited as Brownie had ever seen her. The two of them discussed his desire to get back to school where he was immersed in getting his prerequisite subjects out of the way. They also engaged in a discourse about Cecile’s choice of school and desired curriculum. Somewhere along the line Cecile, having decided to enter politics, was as far removed from helping others as she could get. Politics for Brownie was a user’s profession. Where she got the bug to squander her intelligence in a secular, divisive vocation as she obviously did was beyond his realm of common sense. However, Cecile was determined to do her best and finish her studies in two years. After much deliberation, Brownie decided that Cecile was as stubborn and anti-social at eighteen as she’d been all her formative years.

When Brownie and Cecile were around their parents, their conversations were always civil but profound. Kevin would argue an opposing view on any given subject in order to make his children legitimately defend their own positions. Margaret knew better than to equate her opinion with either side. Whether their parents agreed or disagreed with them, at the end of the day, all four of them knew that tomorrow was another day and somehow, no matter how divergent their ideas were, they would always remain family, loving and respectful toward each other.

CHAPTER

4

U nknowingly, the few days the four of them had spent together upon Cecile’s high school graduation would be the last week they would ever sit down together amicably to discuss their differences. Bertha died within three weeks of their leaving. Their parents continued to ranch in spite of the hard work that now involved having several ranch hands to help them. Ranching was a physically taxing occupation but it gave the family a peaceful and affirmative advantage knowing that the government had less to say about what they did than most other professions.

Plans for their son to take over the ranch were profoundly cut short as they watched Brownie excel in his studies at the University. Margaret had warned Brownie’s father that it was ‘wishful thinking’ on his part to expect Brownie to come back to the place where he was raised. Margaret had already made peace with Brownie’s decision. As for their daughter, they both watched as Cecile managed to turn herself into a woman with dreadlocks and skirts that hung so low on her hips that the hems were as tattered as the hems on her jeans.

During the late seventies, early eighties, young people were just coming out of the ‘age of Aquarius;’ they were trying marriage, hearing Timothy Leary expound on the attributes of heroin, experimenting with living together, snorting coke, getting acquainted with antidepressants, trying to figure out how they were going to make a living without Daddy’s money. Even now, in the middle years of a new millennium, changes were taking place at breakneck speed. Marijuana and mushrooms were the rage. Most of the consequences to those changes were not constructive. Car accidents, overdoses, suicides, child neglect, abusive marriages, animal cruelity…the list was long and growing. Brownie and Cecile would soon learn how difficult it could be to follow their faith in God and their love for Christ in a dysfunctional secular society.

Kevin and Margaret had never been part of that crowd. They didn’t know one rock band from the other and they certainly hadn’t experimented with any drugs. Anyone being raised on a ranch and/or farm knew how to work. There was never time for such nonsense. It was becoming more difficult for them to understand the perplexing lives their children would face and endure in their adulthood. The isolation and insulation of the ranch had provided a peaceful place in which to grow up. In spite of what Brownie and Cecile were taught in school, their parents engaged them in alternative points of view, allowing their faith to grow and hopefully, preserving their common sense. Now, both of their children had left the refuge of their family home. What they had done when their children were growing up and what they’d continue to do was pray, praying for their safety and their faith.

CHAPTER

5

A fter Brownie finished his second year in college, he got a job at a sandwich bistro called ‘Harvey’s Insides.’ It was one of several restaurants in Colorado Springs. Between going to summer school and throwing sandwiches together there wasn’t any time to spend helping his father working the ranch. A year later when Cecile finished her first year at Berkeley, she changed her name to ‘Moonshine’ and moved in with her boyfriend who excelled in spending his mothers’ money. Why she decided to get two colorful tattoos on her back her parents and Brownie would never understand. She tried to explain to them that they wouldn’t show unless she was in a swimming suit. Trying to understand her motives left them feeling bereft.

Brownie was more concerned about his grades meeting his expectations than those of his parents. Actually, it worked out just fine since his parents had their hands choked-full with a daughter who wanted to be a hippie when being a hippie was no longer cool.

For anyone looking at the family from a neighbor’s point of view the Bannion’s were as normal as could be expected. Or could be evaluated from a distance. Fuel was being rationed at the pump. It severely limited the amount of miles one could drive to a place of employment. If consumption of fuel was exceeded during any given month without permission, hefty fines were imposed by the controlling authorities. Being able to drive to church on Sunday’s was a gas allotment they automatically calculated into their allotted points. For many, not attending church was never an option. Either they didn’t have a car, was afraid to ask anyone to drive them to their church, or were so crippled it was a hardship for anyone to help them. For the remnant of true believers, some other activity was sacrificed in order to meet with other believers. If anyone desired to drive anywhere on vacation an application to the government for an increased gas allotment would need to be requisitioned months in advance. The same held true for an extra oil change or tire replacement.

The amount of stores they could buy from for consumption was being rationed at an alarmingly rate. In the larger cities, lines would form at grocery stores for the purchase of fresh bread and meat. Living on a ranch where the government controlled just about every aspect of their lives, meat was always available. Depending on the size of their garden and the ability of a homemaker to sew, cook, preserve and bake, their food availability was always adequate. For individuals who had to survive city life, options were severely limited. The over reaching greedy tentacles of an out-of-control ruling class in Washington, D. C. touched everyone’s life in one form or another.

When it came to raising cattle the Bannion’s felt the pinch of the mandatory government’s programs. The amount of money to be made per sale for a pound of beef on the hoof was strictly controlled by the Department of Agriculture. The Secretary of Agriculture and his ilk were city boys, a part of the Washington elite. Since it had been determined by experts that cows expel a great deal of ammonia gas, which any cow owner could tell you was entirely false had they been asked, the Environmental Protection Agency used it as an excuse to limit the number of cows a rancher could maintain on his property during any one time period. However, like any good cowboy would tell you, and any cheating congressman had already tried, there were ways around the old barrel without getting tied up.

For their acceptance to the remaining universities left to educate in medicine, law and certain humanities, each eighth grade child was given an exam which the government evaluated. Based on information and exam results given by a fourteen year old child, his options as to what his future may hold was defined and irrevocable. By the time a child graduated from high school, the assumption that should he continue his schooling in a profession already determined by those who were deemed intellectually superior, their choice had become a part of the child’s persona. Should a child determine not to follow the government’s counseling, there were no second choices. If not adhered to, any employment would be limited to whatever he or she was capable of acquiring and executing. As a result his or her government allotments were severely curtailed just as they were entering adulthood.

Kevin and Margaret were in excellent health, better than most of their neighbors, but all had assumed that the Bannion’s had more than enough money to send their rug rats to college. And since the Bannion’s were a church going family, the neighbor’s figured they’d probably made peace with all of it. What the Bannion’s never did was actually speak to their neighbor’s about the peculiarities and advantages of their children so all of the neighbor’s assumptions were based entirely on observed philosophical outcomes.

Everything that Brownie aspired to become made his parents proud. What choice did they have? The exact opposite was true for Cecile. Cecile’s lifestyle, despite her predetermined enrollment in political science, made the Bannion’s feel as though she could’ve been raised in a commune! It wasn’t as though the Bannion’s could keep Cecile’s way of living to themselves; they also knew their neighbor’s had their share of troubles with their own children. Oblivious to her effect on others, appearing with dreadlocks and wearing a long, shapeless skirt with a very brief top, it was no wonder that several in the ranching community felt they were better off than the Bannion’s in spite of their perceived wealth. Kevin and Margaret thought they had overlooked something in her upbringing. They figured that after all their hair had turned gray, and their wrinkles were deep enough to hold a days worth of rain, one or the other of their children might return to the ranch and allow their parents a peaceful retirement. But with Brownie in medical school and Cecile living the life of a political gypsy, their hopes began to wane.

What no one could foresee was the role reversal that would take place by the time Brownie and Cecile were fully involved in their own careers.

CHAPTER

6

L ife was not all that it seemed to be. Term limits had been changed for those who held public office. Six years for a limited one term president and six years for a newly elected Representative or Senator. Those who held office at the time of instituting the new term policy could retain their seats until they retired or died due to the death of their aged bodies. However, since the terms of serving weren’t part of the Constitution and since it was declared by Executive Order, it didn’t take long for it to be abused, starting with President Abbott. He served six years followed by a inert, shame of a presidency just because he could, defying the Executive Order. Following him was another eastern socialist by the name of President Amari.

There were three years left of President Marco’s term in office. Having followed the second six year term of progressive President Amari, Marco’s duty was to follow and obey the agenda previously put in place at any cost. Due to conflicts in the Middle East, gas wars had erupted between the United States and the wealthy sheikhs of the rapidly deteriorating countries sitting in Africa and the Persian empire. The United States had become several decades earlier the primary producer and beneficiary of all things related to gas and oil on the planet. President Amari, however, had signed into law a bill that severely rationed fuel in the U. S. It was a decision based not only on the unpredictable availability of gas, even though the United States had several productive gas lines of its own, but on the monolithic climate change alarmists and their need to stay employed. Having invested in the hoax that earthly inhabitants could actually adjust the climate, billionaires had filed a gluttony of law suits against the oil companies. Employing a myriad number of uninformed and susceptible minds to picket, arouse and shame, citizens were to contact their congressional representatives to act against those causing the pollution and the gas shortages. A drastic change was instituted and forced on the American public. Congress passed a bill that then President Amari signed into law making it impossible to purchase gas without the Digital Allotment Card or DAC.

The president prior to President Amari, was President Abbott. It was he who in his sleep came up with the idea to put a ‘slug’ in every person at birth. At least it worked for those born in a health care facility. The slug, as he labeled it, was to provide to the governing bodies in Washington D. C. all the information they could want about any individual person. That was bad enough. When the populace got smarter, those brave enough to remove the slug were imprisoned for up to a year when they were caught. Jails were filling up with perfectly employable citizens who had done nothing but cut on their own bodies. Thus, President Amari enlisted the DAC when he took over. Everyone was required to have one. Since Congress in all its brilliant glory determined a president’s term ought to be six years with no running for a second term, signed into law before President Abbott took office, the Supreme Court overturned the ruling upon perceived constitutional grounds which gave President Abbott a second term of six years. The electorate did the same for President Amari.

The DAC was not only a means of limiting gas consumption but limited the usage of all gas propelled vehicles, severely severing any unnecessary transportation. The DAC also limited the amount of food products one was allowed to buy at any one time. Due to the little chip embedded in the DAC, it also tracked where you went, when and how you got there and whatever superfluous products one purchased. It recorded everything about the activities and purchases of an individual because without the DAC no one could buy or sell anything. All collected DAC information went directly to a select group of individuals in government assigned to keeping the limits of the bill intact. Banks of calculating computers knew the limits of millions of Americans, from the time they got up in the morning until they went to bed at night. When the limit on any DAC in a particular category was reached, the computer simply shut it down for that month. Illegals and visitors from any country were tracked as well. They actually had to acquire a DAC of their own, some at their port of entry and others at a local post office.

While Brownie and Cecile were growing up, Kevin and Margaret basically shielded their children from the infamous slug and the impact the DAC had on their life style. Living on a ranch, they had access to plenty of meat and a full array of home-grown vegetables. When talk first began about a slug and the restrictions that came with it, Kevin planted apple and cherry fruit trees along with raspberry and sand cherry bushes in their wind break. As was discussed with their friends and neighbors, fruit and meat would ultimately be the most expensive to purchase anywhere. Fruit had for many years been weighed at the time of purchase in restaurants, as were boiled eggs, strips of fried bacon and baked potatoes. The restrictions became the topic of conversation within their church family after Sunday services. Organized bus tours and spiritual retreats became a thing of the past.

Being a part of a grounded church, a Bible-based teaching and preaching center, the Bannion’s knew something like the DAC would eventually raise its ugly head. It was not considered to be the mark of the beast but it was surely foretold in not-so-subtle ways in scripture. The Digital Allotment Card also tracked how many times a cardholder attended church, when and where they attended and how much they gave as their tithe. For most of the Bible-believing community, it rendered very little impact on their belief system. You either believed in God and his Son or you didn’t. Even with the DAC, believers included their trip to church and back in their allotted travel. It was common for the Bannion’s to pick up as many of those individuals in Neve who couldn’t afford the fuel points to drive their own vehicle, taking them to Sunday services.

It wasn’t until Brownie graduated from sixth grade that he received his government issued Digital Allotment Card. Being born at home, Brownie nor Cecile had to deal with the slug. The same held true for Cecile. It was then they realized just how much control the government had over them and their family. Both of them resented the reality of imposed government control: it had been discussed at times in their family while growing up. About the only thing the government couldn’t control in their lives was where and when they got their education. Although many colleges had shut their doors, the remaining universities depended upon government assistance. Those entering the medical field were in great demand. The amount of revenue each medical student brought to the university was necessary for each establishment to survive: it was an enormous amount of money. Medical schools stayed in business primarily because the term of a medical student was anywhere from five to eight years. Any other profession a high school student pursued in college was basically a two to four year term. It wasn’t surprising then to learn that an advanced degree beyond the initial four years was highly encouraged by the universities.

At the beginning of his first term in office years before, President Abbott allowed true socialized medicine to be instituted. As difficult as it was to deal with for the general public, it had resulted from a creep and control mantra that successfully made it into law through Congress where it was upheld as a tax by the Supreme Court of the United States. Medicare for everyone! Socialized Medicare for everyone whether a person wanted it or not. Twelve years later, under President Amari, physicians and surgeons in private practice began forming some innovative business practices of their own, structuring local units of medical personnel where for a monthly fee, participating patients could have access to remedial help at no cost.

Already in existence for years, medical personnel within the hospital setting were already getting paid a monthly stipend, similar to the Canadian concept where the attrition rate of individual doctors was rapidly eroding. Based on the principle of paying each physician the same amount of stipend, controlled by the government for an eight hour day, physicians felt no compulsion or compassion to work any harder than absolutely necessary. Waiting lines at clinics became the norm, not just those waiting for treatment for a head cold but those who suffered from heart disease, cancer, pancreatic pain, liver dysfunction: the list was long. Individuals needing transplants usually died before an organ became available. Those who came in having gunshot wounds or some broken bones were immediately placed on gurneys, wheeled to curtain-walled areas where they were given narcotics to ease their pain. Many died waiting. Increasingly, stealthy, the system moved from Canada into the United States.

Everyone was treated basically the same. If you happened to be a farmer with a lacerated hand or a preacher with cuts and bruises from being beaten about the head by a juvenile band of renegades or a pregnant woman who came for her monthly checkup or a district judge who needed a cyanocobalamin booster, you were given a number and told to wait your turn. All treatments were given on an impersonal basis with no clinic personnel in a hurry since they got paid the same if they treated two patients or ten during their defined eight hour work day.

Brownie was well aware of the circumstances he was getting into upon entering college. Because of his personal overriding motivation and sympathies to help others with their physical needs, a paycheck he’d eventually receive was not uppermost in his mind. Resulting from his first hand experiences on the ranch, his curiosity of what made the body work was more powerful and sustaining than any other field of endeavor that was presented to him.

CHAPTER

7

T he year Brownie finished his first four years in college, he returned home to the ranch with his fiancé, Aleice Rothberg, and provocatively, in front of family, cousins and neighbors, married a girl that looked strikingly just like his sister, before the dreadlocks and baggy clothes. Aleice was also in medicine, having graduated as a nurse. She appeared to be as solid in her benevolent wisdom as Brownie and therefore, Margaret was overjoyed. Kevin’s hope of Brownie ever returning to the ranch was lost on his only son; just the same, Kevin was proud as any father would be seeing his son do so well in the field of medicine, a profession about which Kevin knew absolutely nothing. Lingering in the back of Kevin’s mind was the absolute certainty of knowing hard work and the love of family steered Brownie to become the man he was. Kevin had wanted to ask him if he’d been working out in a gym where he had lived, for Brownie was not just tall, but his physic was lean and hardened, sculptured and tanned. Medical school had done nothing to change his stature. Brownie’s hair was still black showing no gray for his efforts and his introspective and serene character remained the same. To his own credit, he was still opinionated and self assured.

Brownie’s wife, Aleice, cut quite a figure among the ranchers. She was tall, slender with a fair amount of meat on her bones, with a mane of beautiful black hair. Missing nothing through her bluish-green eyes, she was reserved and walked with dignity.

Aleice Rothberg had come from a respected New England family, dating back several generations. She’d told the Bannion’s about how her great-great grandfather had escaped Hitler’s Germany. According to her story, her family had been keen on helping anyone who needed to find a protected place of refuge, especially those hiding from Hitler’s German authorities. Since her relatives were affluent and respected, their home was not directly affected by the turmoil going on in Germany, until 1942, when employment opportunities disappeared. With help from a group of underground Jewish sympathizers, and money obtained from liquidating previously held bonds, they decided to move to England. Circulated rumors of the atrocities taking place were now impacting even German sympathizers. Some of their well-to-do German friends had simply disappeared. It was time to move.

How the history of Aleice Rothberg’s relatives in Germany came up in their conversation, Kevin nor Margaret could remember. Beyond their understanding was how very little Aleice spoke of her own life before she met Brownie. All her conversations seemed to be centered on her past relatives and what they had survived. Knowing she was raised in Vermont, and not having any brothers or sisters, they just assumed her young adult life was happy and fulfilling. Aleice referred to herself as a Christian. However, she never spoke of having any affiliation with any particular church. Having just been married, the Bannion’s were comfortable knowing they had time on their side to get to know their new daughter-in-law.