VelmaGiggleWink

Chapter 1 A mother sits by a fire, sipping a beer outside of a ratty looking trailer, in the back woods of Louisiana. Dirty and exhausted, her mood soon shifts as she spots her best friends truck coming down the dirt driveway. She smiles as she sees him park and hop out like he had springs in his shoes. Quickly reaching down to a plastic bag beside her to hand him a beer, she gives a playful, “Hey Bitch!” “Hey, Lady!”. They hang around, talk and mostly pick on each other for a bit. Having fun, as they always do, when they are together, but then the mother gets quiet and begins staring into the fire for a moment. Her best friend notices, but doesn’t ask. He already knows. Everyone knows. The Choosing is tomorrow. Something that can only ever be the best or worst day of your life. Usually the worst. For her, it would only be the worst… unless. She looks at her dear friend, Jack, and gulps. “If it’s me, I’m taking him with me, Jack. I’ll try to go with him, but… either way he’s getting on that plane.” Jack looks at his old friend and gives her a solemn that steady, “Okay.”, before taking a sip of his beer. The next morning all is quiet in her ratty little trailer as the three get ready to leave. The mother makes sure to dress her son, Alex, in layers, even though it’s a hot summer day. She also makes sure to have him wear his running shoes, and makes sure they all have a decent breakfast. Any little thing that can give them an edge. As they head out the door and towards Jacks truck, she breaks the mornings silence by placing a small folded knife in her son’s seven year old hands. Kneeling down after, she looks at him, as she brushes his hair out of his face, and says, “You are beautiful and sweet, my love…” Pausing to bring her head down and take a deep breath, as she notices the unthinkable amount of fear and worry in his little green eyes. Then continues. “… but you are also stronger then you know. I need that part of you today. Okay?” As little boys do, Alex sheds a tear or two, before remembering the strength in his mother’s eyes and stealing some for himself. Gripping the knife, Alex looks at her and says, “Okay, Mommy.”, with a determination that he should not have to have yet. With that little bit of ugly beauty done, the mother rises and looks at Jack, then holds her hand out for her little boy. He takes it… maybe for the last time, as they head to the truck. Arriving for the days festivities, they all get out. Jack hops out on his side and circles around the truck to grab the mother’s metal baseball bat, as well as his own. When Jack hands her the bat, she bends down once more to get at eye level with her sweet boy. Gripping the bat tight, she asks him where his knife is. He holds his hand out to show her. She tells him to open it. Though he struggles to grip it for a moment, he does just that. With this the mother shows her little boy her grip on her bat. “One hand for your weapon, the other for me, okay?” Once again Alex replies with a too brave, “Okay, Mommy.” She leans in to kiss his forehead and starts to stand up when she feels him pulling her hand back down. She looks at his face as she brings herself back down to him and sees him begin to look over towards the crowd. When she meets his eyes once more, little Alex points to a girl in the crowd and says with a high pitch in his voice, “She sits by me at lunch.” Seeing his friend about to cry, Jack bends down and puts his hand on the little boy’s shoulder to give him the harsh truth of the day, and save his friend from having to do so. “Not today, Little Pint.” The mother looks at her friend with a mixture of guilt and gratitude welling up in her tears. Then mouths, “Thanks, you.”, before standing once more and taking her little boys hand. The three then begin to walk towards the rapidly bunching up crowd. All heading towards a giant stage surrounded by a large electric fence. On the other side of which is three rows of fully geared up soldiers, standing in an attack position and pointing their guns at the giant bunch of people. Behind this, on the stage, is a man they just call, The Announcer. Standing there with unkempt long brown hair and a t-shirt with a yellow cartoon bird on it, he adjusts the mic a bit, as he looks annoyed. Both standing and sitting behind him, is a few rows of a considerably more dressed up group of men and women. Seeming to be in a hurry, themselves, but for reasons of excitement. Instead of annoyance, they look and point into the crowd, as they discuss odds and do their best to size them up. Jack, who is a little short but stocky enough to make up for it, gets busy pushing his friend and her son as far up towards the stage as he can get. Managing to get them about half way there, before The Announcer finally calls them all to attention. “Alright… Alright… That’s far enough. Lets get this shit show started.” The crowd filled with worried families and hopeful singles comes to a sudden and silent still, as the fancy people on the stage behind The Announcer, clutch their metaphorical pearls at the crass statement, while taking their seats. The Announcer begins to go through his too well rehearsed speech. “Now most of you know what is going to happen today… but as always, for the new arrivals,” Pausing to tilt his head at a young mother towards the front of the crowd, holding her baby in one hand and a blade in the other, he continues. “I will go through this, as I do every year. Rule 1 You can only bring what you can hold onto. So make it count. Rule 2 If you kill the chosen, you become the chosen. So be ready. Rule 3 The gate will only open when you get to it. Not a second before. So watch your back and be ready to fight while it does. Rule 4 When the gate is fully open, only the chosen and whatever they have in their hands can go through. Anyone else who tries will be shot dead by the guards.” Taking an overly dramatic breath and looking back at the overly dressed people behind him, with loathing in his smile, he sarcastically announces, “Now lets get on with the show.” The Announcer points to an overly tiny woman standing on the edge of the stage holding, what looks like a metal stick with a spiracle camera on the end of it. She stands up and walks with it across the stage and then back again, pointing it at the nervous crowd, as it appears to scan them with red girded lines. The crowd of people live and die with every step she takes. Watching them like tiny tortures come to life. As this public mass flogging continues, Jack notices the mother’s bat begin to tremble a bit. Putting his arm around her, he whispers in her ear, “No worries. I will get you on that plane. No matter what.”. After, looking back and scanning the crowd, before walking to place himself on the other side of Alex. The mother gives a nervous but determined half smile and head nod, before they return to their voluntary walking purgatory. One for which they wouldn’t be in for much longer. Three and a forth steps into the third pass across the stage, the red grid scans stop. A few seconds later and soft automated woman’s voice comes over the speakers. “You have been chosen.” Everyone collectively finds themselves holding their breath, as they scan the crowd filled with their friends and neighbors on any other day. Men reflexively stand in front of their wives, children cower behind their mothers skirts. Some of the over dressed soulless spectators on the stage stand for a better view. For most, it is the longest moment of most of their lives… and then…