Mirage: 2040 …Part 7 …Feelings First—Quiet Revolution
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you
—ee cummings
Creed
Creed and I decided before going to work we’d make the rounds of the neighbourhood and see if anyone lost a golden retriever puppy.
We were both a bit apprehensive about contacting the neighbours especially considering the ugly crowds in the streets the night before, but felt we needed to try.
At least this way we’d find out who was approachable and who to avoid.
We decided to split up and each of us take one side of the street and stay in sight of the other in case trouble developed—and yes, I was armed but it was concealed carry—no need to inflame any smouldering resentments.
But by the time we each finished canvassing the court we realized our fears were ill-founded.
Apparently the previous night’s crowds were not neighbourhood residents at all, but roving bands of a citizen’s vigilante group called The National Movement.
As it turned out, our neighbours were intimidated by the mobs as much as we were.
“That’s ironic,” I confided to Creed, “Here we thought we were being oppressed by our neighbours only to find our peace was being disturbed by interlopers from outside the area.”
“It makes me so angry,” she fumed, “everyone I talked with was friendly and polite—although a bit intimidated as you might expect.”
I nodded in agreement.
“You know what we should do?" I asked. "We should call a local homeowners’ meeting and start a neighbourhood watch to protect our own turf.”
“That’s an excellent idea— I can talk to the local pastor and see if we can use the church hall for an assembly hall and meeting place.”
“I feel better about this situation already,” I smiled.
We canvassed the entire neighbourhood and the only thing we learned was that there was a notice on the local neighbourhood Facebook page about a missing retriever puppy lost from a pet store, but that was before the internet went down,
Apparently, the pet store owners relocated to another part of the province, so it looked like the pup was ours to adopt.
“It’s all good news this morning,” Creed smiled,
“Well, let’s go home and grab a quick lunch,” I chuckled, “and then feed and take pup out for a walk before heading into work.”
“Good idea, and maybe we can brainstorm a name for our fur baby now that she’s ours.”
I had to admit when she said the pup was ours it sent a wave of warmth throughout my body.
When we got ‘home’ the pup was all all over the two of us as if she knew we were now her pack. Maybe she knew something we didn’t or maybe she just sensed it.
I think we both knew too although we hadn’t put it into words simply because it was so natural and spontaneous it didn’t need to be said.
And I think we both also knew we didn’t have to be scared in our own houses—we could launch our own quiet revolution and push back on all the nonsense invading our peaceful streets.
The pup licked and kissed both of us in an outburst of sheer joy as I laughingly protested, not on my lips, but then suddenly, something completely spontaneous happened…
Creed kissed me.
“Does that rule apply to me too?” She smiled mischievously.
I had no words to answer that. I was breathless.