Patriot Smith, page 23
part #1 of Patriots Series
It was interesting who was on what side of the issue, however.
Chloe and Paul were on the side of them not having too many problems being accused of anything, while Karen and Vina both seemed to think that they should be very careful, because what they were doing might be offensive to terrorists or their supporters.
Rene, interestingly enough, started to laugh, eventually.
“That… It won’t be a thing. If anyone from Antifa ever even sees it, they won’t think of it as anything except propaganda. Haven’t you ever noticed that they only go after high profile things that aren’t about them in particular? There’s a reason for that. If the conversation ends up being about them, they’ll have to prove they’re right. If, on the other hand, the argument or attack is about protecting women, or kids, then no one on the left can really say anything about it, can they? With this… Well, my bet is that they’ll either never even see it in the first place or they’ll keep silent on the issue. Doing anything else will turn and bite them on the ass if they aren’t careful.”
She crossed her arms, cradling herself a bit, as if expecting to be jumped on for knowing that kind of thing. It was, Sebastian had to admit, a bit more intelligent than he would have ever expected, coming from the Black Masks. He normally would have guessed that they would simply attack whoever was presented as the target of the day. What Rene said sounded different than that.
Almost as if such attacks were carefully mapped out and planned ahead of time, using something like a real strategy.
In the main he stayed out of the conversation, feeling more than a bit attacked, personally. Part of that, why he didn’t say anything, was simply that he didn’t know what to talk about. He wasn’t a racist, or any other kind of bigot. That should have been fairly obvious to the people there, if nothing else. Given that he didn’t lie or even hold his tongue that often, it would be painfully obvious if he held that kind of belief.
The only one that might think ill of him was probably Melissa. Even at that, he didn’t hate her for being White. He simply didn’t like a lot of what she did. Mainly the part where she’d tried to threaten half of them with prison if they didn’t give into her awful behavior. Even if it had only taken place once or twice.
None of that meant he should have been considered a racist, as far as he could tell. It might have been down to the fact that they only had one black person there and that Sebastian had been the one to get everyone in the first place. Rick wasn’t even totally African American, being a mix of other things along with black. It left him slightly goofy looking but the man wasn’t one of the people trying to jump in to vilify Sebastian for being white. Male, either, though that one was being kept to a dull roar, compared to the allegations of him hating people for their skin color.
After a while, he stood up. Karen still had her hand on his shoulder and had the whole time she’d been talking him down. Subtly but it had been there. Hal and Marcus both seemed a bit upset by the words as well, so it might not have been pointed his way alone.
In order for him to get all the way up, which was going to be needed to get the cake out of the oven, Karen had to let go of him. That and back away, instead of hovering behind him at the table. That part was a bit weird, now that he thought of it. No one just stood by a table like that while others were eating. Most of her food was still there on her plate, as well.
The timer had gone off, so he needed to get the cake out, or it would start to dry on the edges, making it tough. No one spoke while he grabbed the kitchen thermometer from its shiny brass hook, which was over the top of and behind the white stove. Then, using a silicone hot pad, one in a cheery red color, he pulled the half sheet cake out, checking it for doneness instantly. It was a bit warm, being about two hundred and five degrees, Fahrenheit but it wouldn’t be gooey in the center, or way too dry, either. It was just set on top of the stove, since it needed to cool before he could use the icing on it. He was serving it from the pan, though he did run a butter knife around the edges first thing, to prevent it from binding there as it cooled off.
“Now we wait ten to fifteen minutes and I can ice it. Then we get dessert.” He glanced back at the table, everyone sitting again, since some of them were still eating. He’d finished already, since putting food in his face had been a great excuse not to talk.
Then he shrugged.
“Anyway, I think the topic was about how racist I must be for not thinking day care centers should be blown up? At least that’s kind of how I was taking what you were saying, Karen. That probably isn’t what you really meant. At least I hope not.”
Marcus raised a single finger.
“I was sort of getting that vibe as well. It’s a bit over the top, really. None of us here seem to have any problems that way. We don’t really think the way you’re suggesting as far as I can tell. Forcing that kind of belief on people based on their color like that seems a bit… Well, racist, isn’t it? That whole thing where all white people are innately racist? You have to get that’s racist, right?” He grinned a bit. “And no, claiming that systemic racism is the only kind that counts and ignoring that most racism is personal, not part of a system, won’t fly. Pretty much everyone gets the difference now. It was on television, after all.”
It had been. On Marty’s Corner. One of their own shows. Online anyway, which was close enough to count as being television for it not to be lying on the other man’s part. At least not for a normal person. Sebastian would have felt a bit uneasy about saying things that way, if it were him. Not that he would have corrected even himself, if he’d said it.
He wasn’t a freak or anything, just a person that tried to be honest when he could. To a level that made him a bit weird, regardless of his inner denials in that direction. It was a thing that he had to admit to himself. Most people wouldn’t have even bothered to consider the idea in the first place.
Karen looked ready to actually start arguing her points again, when Vina laughed. It was done gently enough that everyone turned to look at her. If you got loud, people would fight, at least sometimes. If you whispered, they leaned in. Sebastian had used the same trick himself before. It was interesting watching it happen at the dinner table.
Vina let a small smile come to her lips, her tan face slightly elfish looking, even with her gold rimmed glasses on.
“No one was saying that any of you were racists. Not even Karen meant that. She was just saying that we might all be hit that way. It isn’t wrong but it’s also not an attack. Not from anyone here. That would be stupid. Anyway, cake? Is it a special occasion?”
It was after a fashion. Sebastian let his head moved to the side a bit.
“Yes? It’s an apology cake. I was a bit hard on everyone today. I just want the show to come out right. It probably won’t. We just don’t have what we need for the project I have in my head.” He managed to sound a bit chagrined, which matched his feelings pretty well.
Vina, sitting in her place at the table, which was by Doug and Sara, waved his words away. It wasn’t negligent, as much as her saying it wasn’t important.
“Thanks? You weren’t that bad about it, you know that, right? I mean you have a vision. We all get that. We’ll do our parts, so don’t worry. Even if Karen has to be maligned on the web as a Nazi, to get it done.” She seemed sincere about that part of things, which made no sense, other than humor. At least he laughed at the words.
Karen was many things after all but a Nazi wasn’t one of them.
None of them were even close to being bad, as far as he could tell. Much less the kind of person that would support evil like that.
Standing, Sebastian walked the ten feet to the stove, placing his hand over the cake. It was still a bit hot. Then he hadn’t given it even close to enough time. Serving it warm wasn’t a horrible thing but the icing would be thinned by the heat, if he didn’t wait a bit. Sebastian did uncover the bowl of chocolate icing to give it a stir. A thin crust had formed on the top, even with a small plate over the blue glass bowl.
He turned as he re-covered the sauce. Not that it was supposed to be that but they weren’t going to give it a chance to dry out. At least he wasn’t planning to wait that long before eating. The others probably wouldn’t either.
Sitting back, behind the table, Rick gave Sebastian a funny look. It was held too long but didn’t seem hostile. More like he was baffled, than anything else.
“Patriot Smith is going to be good. I get you worrying over your baby. That’s why it will work. We get that. I was… We were all just being quiet after the thing earlier. In Montana?”
That one had missed him totally. Rather than ask about it, he just waited, since it was kind of clear that everyone else knew what was going on, while he didn’t. Then, he’d been busy. Possibly enough to get the others not to explain something in the news to him. The fact that they’d been together for most of the day didn’t mean information wouldn’t pass without him knowing about it.
Rick didn’t go on. Sara however, did. The slightly heavy girl had a long face, which didn’t light up when she spoke. Most of the time it did. He hadn’t really noticed that fact, until it didn’t happen.
“Thirty plus people dead. It was a school shooting. A group of five kids shot up their school. Dressed up in black block. That or they thought they were ninjas. They just murdered them. High school kids, teachers… Then they killed themselves, before they could be taken in. It was… Well, how do we beat that kind of thing? If they’re willing to die like that.”
Her eyes locked with his, holding him there, as if she were actually asking him to tell them how to save the world from the monsters that had crept out of their deepest minds.
“That’s… Messed up. Those poor kids. All of them.” He stopped for a bit, getting why no one else had seemed like they were themselves all day. School shootings were a thing but rare. That a group had done it and then offed themselves after just made the whole thing that much darker.
It wasn’t an answer, of course. Him saying that he felt sorry for the dead. They all did, probably. You’d have to be evil to hear about young people being murdered and not care.
No one spoke for a bit. Most of them looking down at the table. Waiting for him to speak. That or for some cake. It suddenly seemed to be a bit too dark in the world for treats. Not that he was going to get rid of it.
“All we can do is try to give people hope that things will get better. Maybe… I don’t know. Things will get better, eventually. We need to remind people of that.”
It sounded hollow and like it wasn’t enough. Each day things were getting worse. Step by step the world was being ground down under the weight of a few selfish little thugs that weren’t spanked enough as children.
Except that he knew that beating kids didn’t make them better people. Violence really didn’t work to correct anything, in the long run. The only positive outcome from that, being a bit more harsh with the kids would be in teaching them that if they did the wrong thing, they’d be made to pay for it. That and the fact that it might just hurt.
Part of him wanted to call for having them all, all the Black Masks, rounded up and killed. He held his tongue, even as the thought raced around his mind, since it wasn’t going to help anyone if he said that kind of thing. Finally, he just shook his head.
“We’ll think of something. For now… We have to carry on. The first rule is to survive. We all have to, if we can. Everyone.”
It was tempting to walk out of the room. As if he was going to impress anyone by doing that kind of thing. He wasn’t above being dramatic but there was a time and a place for behavior like that. Making a big show when people had just died wasn’t the kind of person he wanted to be in life. If he wanted to be that kind of poser, he could climb online and talk about how he was keeping the dead in his thoughts and prayers, like everyone else.
Which was still doing something, even if it wasn’t useful. Almost anything else would have had more impact. At times, even just talking to others in real life could get small bits of change to take place.
The place was quiet then. As if a moment of silence had been declared. It was a thing they could hardly afford to do anymore in public. If they had ninety seconds of silence every time someone died they’d never do anything else. At least it was starting to feel like it.
Hal looked troubled. As if he wanted to say something that would change the tone of the room but couldn’t tell if it was the right time or not. After struggling for a bit, he caught Sebastian’s eye, and nodded.
“Doug was telling me that we’re drying more fruit? We should do the dried kind with the sugar in it? I don’t know how you did that last time but it’s the best one so far.”
That one wasn’t that hard, though they’d need to borrow the stock pot for it. That or one of the big canning pots.
Sebastian took a deep breath and then nodded. They probably didn’t really need more of it, having enough to last, even with better than decent sales. People needed to keep busy though, so little projects like that might not hurt.
“Make a simple syrup and put the pieces of fruit in it, cut into the shapes you want. Let it soak for about half a day, then take the fruit out and add another cup of sugar. You have to heat it each time to get the sugar to dissolve. In a few days it will start to turn see through and kind of glassy. Once it’s mainly that way, you’ll want to let it air dry, for about an hour, then put it in the food drier. After that it’s pretty much just done normally. We should have enough sugar for it. Just make sure to reuse the syrup for the same kind of fruit and then keep it at the end. It will be flavored by then. Don’t mix them too much or all the fruit will taste kind of the same.”
Plus, it would dye some of them colors that might not be that appetizing. Cherry juice would turn everything soaked in it a light pink color, for instance. Really, it was kind of an interesting idea, if they ended up with extra to play with.
Rather than let the conversation die after that, which it started to, Chloe stood up and paced a few times. That was strange, for her. She was high energy but ran in the mornings to eat up the extra energy she had each day. Sebastian tried to do that as well, when possible, though they didn’t do it together. Why that was, he’d never bothered to find out. It was probably down to her just not running as far as he did. That or she went faster and didn’t want to be slowed down. Both were possible. He ran and did other exercises but that didn’t mean he was a professional athlete or anything.
She kept looking at the clock, which got him to smile. They had one on the wall, after all. It currently said it was just before seven-thirty.
Waving at her once got her to freeze and stare at him.
“It’s okay, the icing is already made. Really the cake should be cool enough now. It’s going to be a bit liquid on top though, since I’m not waiting for it to set.” He paused then and shrugged. “It’s all vegan.” That part hadn’t been on purpose, he just hadn’t wanted to open another can of eggs just yet. It would work pretty well.
Starting to walk again, she moved closer and then, for some reason, hugged him. It was tight enough to be needy seeming. That or desperate for comfort. The school terror attack was a bad thing but shouldn’t have really worried her at all. Not enough to be grabbing him for moral support like that.
“Thanks, Sebastian. That’s really nice of you. I’m just worried about… Well, I have friends in Montana. We do. Ones with kids that are that age. I don’t recognize the name of the school but I’m worried. It’s probably nothing.”
A few of the others nodded then but Marcus actually blinked a few times.
“Janice and Frank’s kids? I hadn’t even thought about that.” That he did then seemed to worry him but he relaxed after a moment. “They’ll call us here. Even if it’s nothing. Or, we should call them… After dinner? I don’t want to be rude to anyone.”
The names were familiar, since both of them had helped out the year before, when the studio was just getting started. That some of the people there would know them made sense, given that a lot of the suggestions as to who he should interview had come from those two. Neither was exactly a stellar acting talent but Frank had been a good worker. Janice less so. She’d been friendly and almost everyone liked her. It was about the time that they’d started that Sebastian had instated an actual interview to get in. You had to do a cold reading and make up something right then, on the spot.
He didn’t make people do anything too hard but you had to have some kind of skill to get in. Only about one out of every five people trying out had made it. Most of them, including the ones that hadn’t gotten in had been people that Frank had suggested to him, come to think about it.
Sebastian hadn’t even remembered that they’d moved to Montana after they left or that they had kids. The teens hadn’t been there. The couple were a bit older but not ancient or anything. Old enough to have kids the right age, which they’d mentioned a lot.
He nodded at the others.
“Right. We should call them then. Good thinking. Here, let me get the cake ready. I’ll frost and plate it and um… Karen, can you help pass it out?” The words just sprung forth from his lips, even if the woman had been implying that he might be a super-secret racist earlier.
The tiny blonde woman stood up, smiling.
“Sure. That smells really good. I haven’t had cake in forever. Not counting the brownies the other day. Those were good, too.”
