CCLaP Weekender, April 24th 2015

smiling noticeably, but with their shoulder—usually their right, but evidently dictated by whichever belonged to the dominant hand—aimed ahead of the rest of their person, as though they meant to advertise themselves through their unusual manner of walking. He said it was believed this was the work of a competing advertising firm that won a big government contract and was hiring models and other attractive types to wander the streets by day, looking happy and convincing everyone else around them to be happy too. At least, that was the psychological premise guiding their efforts.

I was cleaning out my car one afternoon, when out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mrs. Shields in her ratty floral-patterned dress, which she wore seemingly every other day and of which she seemed inordinately proud. She was looking at me disapprovingly. She clearly had something on her mind.

Guster was barking toward her, probably at her, but possibly at something else.

I let him continue. I felt myself, in some small way, desire a confrontation, to provoke a response from Mrs. Shields. It was the only way I’d know for sure what was going on inside her head. And I wanted to be sure.

“Couldn’t you silence the dog? Make him go inside? Get him to ignore me?” she finally said, as though she were an actor trying to remember her lines.

“It’s hard to ignore you when you’re standing there staring. I know I can’t,” I said. She squinted at me angrily as my words registered. There was a strong sense of distrust about her.

“You could deign to go to a rally once in awhile, you know. Not good for the children, what you’re teaching them,” she said.

“We’ll be fine,” I said, standing up and crossing my arms.

Mrs. Shields finally backed down, her shoulders slinking somewhat as she turned toward her home. Just before she opened her door and went inside, she stopped. She looked back at me and said, “That steak was still good, you know.”

That night, there was another announcement on the Announcement TV. They’d become increasingly commonplace over the past several weeks, but this one proved especially important.

In keeping with several of the most recent rallies’ themes, it was unveiled at yesterday’s rally that a new arm of government will be established—only a small change effected in the hope of stemming the tide of more significant changes that have previously occurred or are on the cusp of occurring. The new governmental agency is the Bureau of Everything Fitting Into Its Rightful Place. It operates, very apparently, by the notion that everything already has a “right place,” and the bureau’s job will be to see to it that that is where said person/thing ends up.

“All right, that’s it. I’m taking the girls to the next rally. You don’t have to come, Myrna. But I’m taking them. It’ll be good. We’ll have familial April 24, 2015 | 11