Red Acorn arrived at the State Hospital, swiped his identity card, and was shocked to see how many
armed black shirts were guarding the hospital.

When he entered the Hospital. Red stomped to the check-in desk and demanded he see his wife, Dusty
Acorn. The woman’s eyes swiveled over to one of the black shirts who immediately came up to escort Red
to his wife’s room.

Upon entering the room Red ran over to Dusty enveloping her with his arms but she did not seem to
notice. Instead she stared blankly ahead of her.

Red looked up at the black shirt puzzled and the black shirt told Red he had the police report on what had
happened in the police station. Red ripped the report from the black shirt’s hands, started to read it, and
fell into one of the overstuffed visiting chairs inside the room. He could not believe what he was reading.

He jumped up, grabbing the black shirt by his collar, yelling in his face, “where’s my child?”  The black shirt
pushed a gun into Red’s stomach and told him to back away.

“Where is my son, Nutley?” Red screamed. He whipped around to look at Dusty who still wore a blank
face.

“What’s wrong with my wife?” Red demanded.  A doctor entered telling Red that Dusty was in shock,
perhaps a catatonic state, and she would need to stay there for a little while. The doctor told Red they
were taking good care of her and this type of thing had happened before when a child was taken for its’
state education. Some of the mothers don’t adjust too well at first he was told.

Red slipped into the chair once again. The day’s exhaustion streamed over him. What had he done
wrong? What was all of this?  This community service, sharing the wealth? My little baby, Nutley, in a
state education center? When had this begun?

The black shirt seeming to read his mind handed him a huge wire bound book that was about 6 inches
thick. He handed Red the book and told him he had better spend some time reading the policies of his new
government.

The doctor told him that Dusty would not recognize him tonight and perhaps it would take a few days
before she regained her normal state and it would be best if Red went home for the night to get some rest.
Red gave Dusty a last hug and left her room.

When he exited the hospital, the black shirt who had visited him earlier in the day sped up to him in his
own Volvo. Red felt a flash of lightning rattle his brain and for one second he wished he owned a gun. He
would shoot that thief on the spot.

The black shirt smiled and told Red they were ready to deliver his boarders tonight. Red gazed at him as if
he were insane. The black shirt told him to get into his van and to follow him to the Immigrate Workers
Department.

Once they arrived at this department, the black shirt took him down a hall into a room filled with immigrants
or state workers as they were called. Seven names were called out and the men stepped forward. Red
burned a look at the seven men, four Mexicans and three Muslims. What the hell was he going to do with
these men?

The black shirt told him he would follow behind Red as he drove back to his home with the van loaded up
with the workers and their belongings.

Red watched as the men jumped into the van, the Mexicans holding take-out bags with food. The Muslims
entered the vehicle and one sat next to Red in the front seat. Red felt  little electric shocks shoot through
his head and looked at the man and flashed him a false smile. The Muslim did not smile back and uttered
something Red did not recognize.

When the group reached Red’s house, the black shirt got out and told Red to just set the men up in their
rooms for right now and tomorrow he would receive further orders on what needed to be done for the men.

The black shirt jumped back into the Volvo speeding away. As Red watched him drive off, he caught sight
of one of his neighbors, Charlie Crawfish, who had just arrived home from work, watching with intensity at
what was going on at his house. Red felt mortified that this man whom he knew very little was viewing this
humiliating scene.

The men, meanwhile, were jumping out, throwing their jumbled belongings onto the lawn. One of the
Mexicans tossed his empty bags and Mountain Dew bottle out of the van onto the lawn. One of the
Muslims frowned at the Mexican who smiled big and told Red he sure did have a nice place.

Without any warning, a huge crash split the quiet early evening and here came Jeremiah, Red's German
shepherd having smashed through the front living room window heading straight for the Muslim who had
been in the front seat with Red.

Before anyone could do anything but gape, the dog had the Muslim on the ground by his neck. The Muslim
was screeching in some volatile language Red did not understand. He called the dog off the man, horrified
at what had happened.  

Red commanded Jeremiah to halt and sit. Jeremiah stood over the Muslim growling his lips pulled all the
way back in a snarl and the hair on his back standing straight up. The dog sat, but his eyes never left the
Muslim. One of the Muslims stepped forward just then and told Red in broken English that they could not
live in the house with  that foul dog.

By now, Red was completely exasperated with the whole situation that had been thrust upon him. Red
screamed at the Muslim,” That’s too damn bad, you hear me?”  “I don’t care what you think, the dog
stays”!  Red stole a quick look and caught Charlie Crawfish grinning.

The Muslims asked to use his telephone. Red's eyes glinted at the men and told them no one was using
the telephone tonight. Just get in the house he said and he would show them to their rooms. Ha, “their
rooms” Red was thinking. My rooms, my house, my dog, my wife, my son, my life!
What happened to all of it?  Well, for the time being, he was taking charge. He had more than his share of
orders and insanity for one day.


To be continued............