Anatomy: Lessons Felt Deeply

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"Let the corporations and the government fight it out themselves," I suggested. "But in the end," Garnet said, "whoever wins will just keep all the power to themselves." "And, they can do it under this Constitution," Ed said. "So, let's make another one," Kenny said. "That's the spirit," Garnet said. "And, another economy, while we're at it," Ed said. "This one sucks. It's a consumer economy but the consumers don't have enough expendable income to buy the goods to consume. Hell, let's just start all over." "Hmmmm," I said. That's when we heard the drums heading down the mountain. They played on and on and we danced around our fire beneath the night sky, thinking about a future no one really thought was possible, but drunk enough that the forces of reason to tell us otherwise had already logged off for the night. When the giggling stopped, Kenny said, "We also need a new national anthem." He grabbed the shine bottle from his pack again and downed the rest of it. We had placed some tree sections as stumps around our fire and Kenny put the empty bottle at his feet and spun it. "Spin the bottle for an anthem," Garnet said. "I love it." The bottle stopped spinning with its neck pointing at me. "First song you think of," Kenny said. "Jeremiah was a bullfrog. He was a good friend of mine," I began to sing and most of the rest of them joined in with me. Everyone joined in by the second chorus. So, that's how that happened.

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"Emma Blankenship?" I asked Dr. Grace. He shook his head no, then stared at the floor and sighed. Emma had been 24. Leukemia. "Well, she won't need these then," I said, and pulled a plastic Band Aid container from my boot and tossed it on the table. Dr. Grace opened it, then started dispensing the pre-rolled joints inside without a word and the people there took them just as meekly. Even Roland Boone, III, currently running for a seat in Congress, took a joint. Eagerly. Yes, that had definitely been the voice I knew but couldn't place. The wise, elderly physician must have noticed the look on my face. "Now, Regina, we don't have time for all that. Irony is a bitch and you've got a great deal to come to terms with yet, so may I borrow my lighter, please? Thank you. Lawyer Boone was down from Boone on the campaign trail and got caught here during the quarantine. They put barricades up on the highways," the good doctor explained, "and he couldn't get home." Seeing the confused look on my face, the former Marine lit his joint, inhaled, and passed his lighter to the lawyer open and still flaming. Not the first time that solicitor had sucked on good ganga, either. My face was probably good and screwed up by then and my emotions scream across my features much like my deep voice bellows when I am good and worked up. As I said, I am not known for being a quiet person. "Topton was closed off. No entrance and no exit and enforced by helicopters and tanks and guns pointed at anyone who tried to escape quarantine," Dr. Grace added. "On American soil?" I asked, flabbergasted. "Jeezus, where on Earth have you been?" Boone shouted, as he puffed on my illegal weed. I ignored him. Suffering fools was not a talent of mine and probably never will be.

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