Free Divided We Fall by Trent Reedy

Guardsmen were responsible for the deaths of four young people on the Kent State University campus, but also on the aftermath of that tragedy. There are obviously some similarities between Friday night’s shootings and those at Kent State. What do you think we can expect to see unfold from these events?”
    “Well, Renae, first, I think it’s really quite inaccurate to refer to the murder of twelve innocent people as ‘The Battle of Boise.’ That implies that the twelve dead and nine wounded had some chance of fighting back. Just like at Kent State, these innocent people had no chance once the National Guardsmen began firing. This is really a massacre, and if Governor Montaine gets his way, this could all work out a lot like it did at Kent State, when nearly every legal authority agreed the Guardsmen were unjustified in killing the students, but that somehow killing the students did not interfere with their civil rights. •—

    —• and nine wounded, and the president is calling for calm pending his investigation? What kind of leadership is that? Americans want unity, and they want answers. And he’s offering none.”
    “Speaker Barnes, don’t you think it’s appropriate to grieve? Does this situation have to be reduced to party politics already?”
    “Grief and mourning are important, Kathy, but President Rodriguez should know that he doesn’t get a break. He has a job to do. He’s not doing it. Were I president, I’d have more to tell the American people about this tragedy.”
    “Mr. Speaker, is this an announcement of your presidential candidacy?”
    “Whoa there! I’m flattered, but we just had an election. It’s too early for that kind of talk. I’m merely pointing out the president’s obvious indecisiveness and ineffectiveness. •—

I spent all weekend trying to avoid the news on the living room screen. It wasn’t too much of a lie to say I was sick, and except for going to church on Sunday, I hardly left my room.
    I left the radio off Monday morning when I went to pick up JoBell for the first day of school. Music wasn’t what I needed, and I damn sure didn’t want any more news. Parked in the street in front of her house, I still felt miserable about Boise. I closed my eyes and let the Beast’s low growl rumble up through my body to soothe me. Apart from JoBell, nothing felt better than a tough motor.
    “You got yerself … a text from JoBell.”
    I reached over and grabbed my comm, tapping the screen to silence Digi-Hank, and checked JoBell’s message.
    I’ll be out in a second.
    Finally she came out onto her porch wearing little jean shorts and a brown shirt that fit just snug enough. Her long blond hair blew back off her shoulders in the breeze, and sunlight glinted off my class ring, which dangled from a chain around her neck. The chain was new and had cost a ton of my basic training money. For probably the first time since Friday night, I smiled.
    “Feeling better?” JoBell climbed up into the Beast. She closed the door and strapped herself in.
    “Yeah, I guess so,” I said. The acidy feeling deep in my stomach had made me wonder if maybe I really was sick. I could have stayed home from school, but I needed to get out of the house and think about something besides Friday night in Boise.
    JoBell ran her soft hand down my face. “You sure you’re all right?” I nodded. She leaned toward me and kissed me, hungry and wet. No simple “good morning” kiss. “Mmm.” She licked her lips. “I missed you this weekend, Friday night especially,” she said. “But don’t worry. That bikini will be back.”
    Any other day, it would have been pretty hot to see JoBell all worked up like this. Today, though, I couldn’t focus, especially knowing the news I had to give her. The governor had ordered us all not to say anything about the … disturbance … in Boise, but JoBell was different. We’d grown up together, been dating since freshman year. She knew about my mom and her fits.