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............

Red Acorn had left the house the same time as Dusty that morning to go to his office. Not knowing of Dusty’s fate, he started his usual routine that morning once reaching his office, whistling softly to himself.

About 10am that morning, Red received a knock on his door. A black shirt entered smiling as Red told him to take a seat. “What can I do for you today?” Red inquired.  Being an accountant who owned his own firm, Red was sure the black shirt had come for advice.

The black shirt produced two documents and handed one of them to Red to look over. While Red studied the document, he felt his face burning. He looked at the black shirt in amazement and said, “Surely this is wrong”.  The black shirt assured him it was not. Red squeaked out to the black shirt, “I’m to give up my house for a less fortunate family?” The black shirt nodded but told him he had a second document and that he would be given a choice. He handed Red the second document which ordered Red to perform community service for a year in payment for him being able to attend university and earn an MBA.

Red stared at the black shirt and told him he had received all of his degrees long before Mr. Obama had been elected so he did not understand. The black shirt told him the community service was retroactive and that indeed he would have to give to his community. It was either that or forfeit his house to a larger family who needed his big house with all that space.

Red felt trapped and looked all over his office for what reason he didn’t know. He kept thinking this had to be a nightmare. “I supported Mr. Obama and gave to his campaign.” said Red.  The black shirt thanked him for his generosity.

Red’s face dropped and he felt as though he might cry, but he held it together asking the black shirt what kind of community service would be necessary. The black shirt told him that he would merely have to board several workers for a year.  Red asked what kind of workers. The black shirt assured him it was no real problem.  Just four Mexicans and three Muslims, just for a year while they worked their jobs.

You have plenty of space in your big house, 6 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. It will be no real problem. All you have to do is provide these workers rooms and food the black shirt assured him.

Red thought about the problem and decided there was no way out. He didn’t want to lose the home for which he had worked so hard. But three Muslims and four Mexicans? In the same house?

He looked at the black shirt and asked when Mr. Obama had decided to order these types of services. The black shirt looked at him as if he had no head and told him that Mr. Obama had discussed this during his campaign and Red must not have been paying attention. Red said he never heard this.  The black shirt asked Red, “Do you not remember Joe Wurltzebacher who asked the tax question to Mr. Obama and was told about sharing the wealth?”  No, Red told the man he had never heard of that. “Oh, don’t worry about that plumber; he is in Gitmo for now”.  Red gazed back in shock at the black shirt.

"Mr. Obama spoke quite often about giving community service. It is something in which he believes quite strongly, Mr. Acorn," said the black shirt. "Don't you recall the many uplifting speeches he gave before he was elected?"  Red honestly could not recall much. He remembered feeling dazed while Mr. Obama spoke at length, but he didn't actually recall the details of those speeches.

The black shirt continued to stare at him waiting for an answer. Red asked him if he could consult with his wife first before he made the decision. The black shirt told him no, these documents had to be signed today and arrangements were already in the process. If he chose not to comply today, the house would be taken away immediately and he would be detained.

Red quickly decided he had better sign the second document. The black shirt asked him to step outside after he had signed the document.  Once outside, the black shirt pointed to a 10 passenger van and told Red that would now be his vehicle. His Volvo would be confiscated until his community service was completed.  He would need the van for hauling the boarders back and forth to their jobs.

Red squinted in the sunny, but cold air at the leftovers of the passenger van. The van had a back missing bumper, one of the front bumpers was torn part way off and just hung there in space. There were dents all over the van; one of the doors was caved in from where it had obviously been hit. The back window was broken out and plastic was taped to it. All Red could think about was what his neighbors would think of him driving that piece of junk.

Red was now very angry, but the black shirt had already taken off while Red was in his reverie. Red noticed that his Volvo was now gone.

He rushed back into his office to call Dusty.  But, the bank told him she had never arrived at work. Red called home, thinking perhaps the baby had gotten sick on the way and Dusty had returned home but there was no answer.

Red called everyone they knew and the doctor’s office and no one had seen her. Now Red was really worried about his wife and child being missing. He decided he should call the police although he figured they would laugh at him and tell him he had to wait until she was missing for 24 hours, that she probably had just run off with another man.

But, when he talked to the policeman at the station, he was told that indeed his wife had been there this morning, but she was taken to the state hospital. Red, now in a panic, asked what happened to his wife, had she been in an accident, was she hurt, what was wrong? The policeman told Red that Dusty had come in with a false complaint, did not like the answer she had gotten and had just gone mad. She had to be tranquilized and shipped off to the state hospital for observation. He told Red to just go to the hospital where he could see his wife and find out more.

Without even looking back or locking his office door, Red jumped into the old van and veered off into the traffic to rush to the state hospital wondering all the way what had happened to his wife and child. Fear was crawling over every inch of his body now and the realization of all that occurred this morning came down on him like a heavy black tarp covering him in gloom.

To be continued………….

Dusty and Red Acorn were your typical suburban couple, married for ten years, one child, and had squirreled away a lot of money. They also happily supported and contributed to the Obama campaign.

Dusty worked at a bank as a loan officer and every morning took her little baby, Nutley Acorn, to the bank with her where child care was provided and she could see the little one during lunch.

Red having gotten his MBA worked for an accounting firm doing well and between the two of them had bought a very nice $500,000 home.  Nice lot with trees and a yard for Nutley to play in when he grew.

On a blustery, but sunny day in February, Dusty packed up Nutley and headed for work. As she drove through her city, she happily hummed John Lennon’s “Imagine” to herself knowing Obama’s black shirts were situated all around the area. She felt quite content. No conservatives to deal with any longer. What a peaceful world this was now.

She parked her car and was getting Nutley out when she was approached by one of Obama’s black shirts. She gave him a big smile and good morning. He smiled back and handed her several papers. She was surprised but delighted at the attention.

As she read the documents, her smile slowly disappeared and she stared at the black shirt before her. She told him there had to be a mistake. He shook his head no. She told him she had supported President Obama and she thought only these kinds of proclamations were for conservatives.

The black shirt shook his head in disbelief. “No ma’am,” he said, “all citizens must comply with these orders when determined.”

The first proclamation stated that Nutley, now being 3 mos old was due for state educational training. The second proclamation stated that her BMW was being confiscated because another family, less fortunate than her, needed a car.

Dusty asked the black shirt how was she going to get to work. He suggested alternative sources, such as a bike for which she would receive a tax credit and an additional $100 supplement check when they filed their taxes.

The black shirt went to take Nutley from Dusty’s arms, but Dusty fought with him trying to hang onto her 3 month old child. “Sorry, ma’am, but you have to hand over the child. It’s federal law and if you don’t comply we will have to arrest you.”

Dusty, in tears, let go of her child. The black shirt assured her that the child would be brought back home on weekends for them to visit with him. But, for the next 18 years of his life he was now a ward of the state.

Dusty handed over the keys to her car and the black shirt drove off waving with a huge smile and wishing her a good day.

Dusty stood there in disbelief, her face streaming with tears. How could this have happened?  She was an Obama supporter, had voted for him and donated to his campaign. She was a liberal for crying out loud. She decided she would walk down to the local police department and report this as a kidnapping and car theft. That black shirt was a fraud she just knew it.

Once inside the police station she reported to the officer on duty what had happened. He made a few phone calls while she sat nervously chewing her lip and watching handcuffed felons coming and going to and from different rooms.

About fifteen minutes later, the police officer told her there had been no mistake and the black shirt was not a fraud and he had been doing federal government duty. She demanded that the police do “something” about getting her baby and her car back. The police officer told her there was nothing he could do and chastised her for not knowing the laws by now.

Dusty shook her head and said she knew of no such laws. The policeman shook his head in despair. “Lady”, he said, “you didn’t keep up with the executive orders that were being passed down did you?”  Dusty shook her head no. As he laughed he said to her, “Too busy watching American Idol?”  

At that moment, Dusty started screaming and several officers dragged her off to a room where she was tranquilized by a state nurse. Dusty fell into a dreamy state, once again humming to herself,
“Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace……”

To be continued………….