Free The Directives by Joe Nobody Page B

beyond caring if they damaged private property. When we heard the shooting start that morning, Dad left to try to go make peace. He never came back.”
    As the memory grew in the son’s mind, Bishop watched Evan’s expression change from stoic to melancholy… eventually brewing into a seething fury.
    “He was a patriot. A leader in the community. I begged him not to go, but he kept pacing back and forth listening to the gunfire. He kept telling me that it wasn’t right for Americans to be killing Americans. Eventually, I couldn’t hold him back any longer, and he left.”
    “I’m sorry,” Bishop said. “Did you ever find out what happened to him?”
    “No. Never did. What I do know is that the rural side lost. The battle raged for almost an entire day. I sat at the plant, listening to the gunshots, worrying about dad. When it finally stopped, a passerby told me that Lew and the city-men had won the day, and that all of the county officials were dead. I didn’t find out my father had been killed until that evening when one of our workers brought me his body draped over a horse.”
    Bishop remembered the bullet holes at the courthouse, and it all made sense. Before he could finish his train of thought, Evan’s voice again filled the tiny room.
    “Their next move was actually conceived by Winfrey, the banker. I guess the town’s citizens were full of victory, but still without food. Someone told me that after the celebration began to wear down, Lew and the other leaders were worried that the people were going to turn on them. Winfrey came up with the solution.”
    Bishop frowned, not quite understanding what Evan was implying.
    “Oh, it was all wrapped up in a pretty, legal package. Most of the farms had mortgages and loans at the bank. Winfrey, sensing the entire town was about to slide into the abyss of anarchy, claimed that the farmers hadn’t been making their payments. He whipped up the emotions of the populace, his rhetoric turning their rural neighbors and friends into the villains – redirecting their anger in any direction but toward Winfrey and his friend the mayor. It worked. Two nights later, the first vigilantes attacked the Colbert farm, demanding they surrender all of their livestock and grain in order to pay their debt. The Colberts, of course, didn’t agree. You saw the results.”
    “Now I understand,” Bishop whispered. “Now it all makes sense.”
    But Evan wasn’t finished. “For months, they picked off individual farms and ranches. They would haul the looted livestock, feed… even bags of dog food back to town. Everyone would eat until it ran out, and then they would all gang up and go knock off another farm.”
    “Why didn’t the farmers fight back?”
    “At first it was only the operations that owed Winfrey money that suffered attacks. The others tried to reason with Lew and his crew. A few of them brought supplies into town and just donated them… giving away truckloads of food to placate their neighbors. Their charity slowed the “Repos” down, but it was never enough food.”
    “Repos? I’ve hea rd that word used somewhere before.”
    Evan smiled at his use of the slang. “Repossessions. That’s what we took to calling them. The people in town weren’t evil or criminal – they were just desperate. They needed some prodding. When Lew or the banker saw supplies were getting low and frustrations were high, they would hold a meeting on the square and stir up a bunch of the men into a frenzy. The sheriff would pitch in, using the bank’s debt as justification for a ‘repo posse.’ They made it all sound legal and moral. It was several months before the farmers started banding together and fighting back.”
    Evan finished buttoning his shirt, now fully transformed from elderly citizen to young man. He sat down on the cot and pointed back toward the main room. “I’m going to crash on this cot for a while. I’ve not slept in two days. I brought you here so you could