It was a bright, cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen. “Your government allocated lunch time is now over, please return to your work stations.” The man next to me sighed, stubbed out his cigarette on the picnic table that we had been sitting at and threw his lunch sack and the cigarette in the trash. The demerit police were coming through the door, looking for people trying to loiter. We had a five minute grace period before we were officially docked from our paycheck. It was very regimented now. We even had to clock in and out to use the restroom as the government had decided that bodily waste should be disposed of on our own time. If we were clocked out for more than fifteen minutes, which was allowed twice a day, the demerit police would notate it in our personal file.
They aren’t really police, they like to tell us. They are the caretakers of the nation. There to make sure that everything runs efficiently. Because an efficient country makes an efficient economy possible. We really have no choice in the matter. Our country, that is. We owe the Chinese government trillions of dollars. After our last default on the loan, it was either be included under Chinese law, like Hong Kong, or submit to the stringent laws enacted to turn us into a smooth running, money making machine. All environmental protections had come down in an effort to satisfy our debt. We didn’t like it, but at least we were still our own country, with our own flag and anthem. It was what we rallied around as times got tougher. Taxes rained down on everyone, even the rich. Only programs that would benefit society were allowed at the universities that still operated and the competition to gain entrance was very fierce. Everyone else was absorbed into the collective workforce. Retirement age was changed to 75. Pensions were disallowed. It took everyone working together to bring us back to the black.
That was the slogan, in the beginning. Back to the black. After overspending our budget for years, it had finally caught up with us. Our children and grandchildren protested in the beginning. It wasn’t their debt to pay. But the threat of Chinese troops on American soil made them stop. Our military had been decimated slowly and surely over the years by well meaning politicians who convinced us that we didn’t have to be the peace keepers of the world and that our money would be better spent on social programs. We listened and then watched as the money went into their campaigns and pockets instead.
As the demerit police came towards us, I grabbed the man’s hand and walked with him back to our work station. Henry and I have been partners for six months now. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it for six more hours,” he told me quietly. Complaining about the amount of work or the length of time, if heard, would be a demerit. Too many demerits in a month would limit the amount of food that you are able to purchase at the grocery store. “I know, Henry,” I said as I squeezed his hand, going slowly enough to keep pace with his shuffling. “How about we sing that song that you like?” Henry smiled, “Oh, you know that always lifts my spirits,” he said as he started in his low gravely voice, “When the night has come, and the land is dark.” Then he paused as I joined in my timid soprano, “And the moon is the only light we’ll see.” That was really the only way that we were going to make it through this, by leaning on each other. The song trailed off as we made our way back inside the plant. Back to standing for six more hours to inspect goods that would be sold to Chinese citizens. Back to helping our country continue to be called the USA.
Writer’s note: The first sentence of my story is the first sentence from the book, 1984. It was used as a writing prompt in my writing group on Meetup, dated 6–14–2020 and if it grabs your attention, please read the book by George Orwell.
The song mentioned is Stand By Me by Ben E. King
