Peace Love Resistance

  “Why is that a bad thing?”

  “Oh, my God. I can’t do this with you. You can have your ring back.”

  “Oh, stop it. I’m just trying to figure you out.”

  “Stop trying to figure me out and figure you out. I’m not in any system. You are. And why it matters is you’re only getting the information they want you to have. Did you know that immediately after World War II, three out of four newspapers in the United States were independently owned? No of course not. You’d rather hunt Pokémon’s. Come on, Ty. Really? The media control numbers have been dwindling since World War II, but you don’t know that because your mind is flooded with sex, stupid games, social media, the football score, music, tabloid drama, you name it, it’s there. By nineteen-eighty-three, fifty corporations controlled ninety percent of our media. That would have been like, weekly television guides, newspapers, TV, that sort of thing, but it’s a whole lot more controlling now. It’s in your face everywhere you go. You can’t even go to the store without watching a computer screen at the checkout. That was in the eighties, Ty. Today it’s six, and maybe even five. Five companies control what you see. I haven’t been anywhere for Internet to research that for myself. Five, Tobias. Five, giant conglomerates control ninety percent of what you read, watch, and listen to. How does that make you feel?”

  “I never thought about it before. I mean they do okay at keeping my interest, I guess. I’m not normally bored anyway.”

  Tristan pushed the button, transmitting static, but took a moment to answer. “You stupid boy. Wake up. There are things going on without your consent. You’re being told what to think, and you do it. You just jump right in line and follow the crowd. You’re doing exactly what they want you to do. Good little conforming boy. If you were here, I’d pat you on the head. I mean, I bet you have no idea what the Prism Program even is. You can’t even hide. No one can. Do you even know what NSA stands for? No, but I bet you know what IKR stands for. Am I right?”

  “I get it, Tristan, I do. I’m just—.”

  “I know. You’re dumbed down. Most people are. It’s a very deep rabbit hole, and it’s easier for you to color inside the lines and stay behind the person in front of you, single file. Stop conforming, stop playing by the rules and be you, an individual with your own creativity. Stop being controlled, Ty.”

  “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “As long as you’re taking it in period, I can live with that.”

  “So what’s your book about?”

  “I’ll just give it to you when I’m done. Teal Swan is one of my favorite teachers.”

  I really did get it, and I knew that Tristan was right, but that didn’t change the fact that it was all a little overwhelming. “Okay, personal question time.”

  “Great. Go.”

  “Where’s your family?”

  “My mom is in Washington DC, working as a reporter for the Republican Party. We don’t really talk. She can’t really handle me not playing the bullshit game she indorses. I haven’t talked to her in over two years. My dad died. I told you that, and I don’t really have anyone else. I had a nanny, but she died, too. Breast cancer. It’s just me and Baby-T.”

  “And me,” I corrected, adding myself to the equation.

  “Yes, you.”

  “How do you get money though? You still have to live.”

  “I’m going to show you that when we go on our trip next weekend. You’re going to be able to go, right?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I don’t know. You’re not eighteen yet. Your parents…”

  “I told you, they don’t care what the hell I do as long as I’m out of their way. It’s been this way my entire life. It’s cool. I promise.”

  “I hope you don’t think all I do is lecture you, Ty. I don’t mean to. It’s just—I’m so passionate about what’s going on and I don’t get why nobody cares.”

  “I care, T. Everyone cares. They’re just not aware.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I’m going to make them aware, and I’m going to make you aware if it takes me to my last breath to do so.”

  I smiled a crooked grin, and pushed the button on the side of the old walkie-talkie. “I’m more and more aware every day. I was even nice to Kota today. I’m pretty sure that was all you.”

  “Kota?”

  “Yeah, some stupid dog my dad brought home for me when I was twelve. The last time I was here. She was never my dog. I didn’t even know her, like the rest of my family here.”

  “You have a dog and didn’t tell me?”

  “You love cows, so I’m not really surprised.”

  “True, and I don’t trust people who don’t like animals. What kind of dog?”

  I took that one to heart, sure I was going to be nicer to Kota from now on. “I don’t know. I think he has some Lab in him. What am I supposed to do with this notebook?”

  “Shit, shit, shit. I forgot all about that. I’d planned on radioing you over an hour ago. Sorry, my book took my mind away for a while. We could do it now, but you’re still in the barn.”

  I shifted my weight, rolling to my side to look out to her camp, a diminishing fire the only thing in sight. “I have it. I’m sleeping out here tonight.”

  “Why?”

  “I like it. I like being able to open my eyes and see the sky.”

  “Huh, I just might make a nomad out of you yet. Okay grab your notebook. This is fast and easy.”

  “Really? Damn. I like it slow and hard.”

  “I’m sure you do. Get your notebook.”

  I smiled wider, hearing the laughter in her words and reached for my sketchpad, planning to transfer it over in the morning. Maybe. It wasn’t like she’d know the difference anyway. “Okay, ready.”

  “It’s simple, Ty. If you only say one thing a day, say thank you. Be grateful.”

  “Grateful for what?”

  “Really, T? I don’t know. I have millions of things to be grateful for. I’m sure you do, too.”

  “I have you and Baby Tobias.”

  “And two parents who love you, a dog, a cool barn to hang out in, and lots of things. This is your gratitude journal. I’ve already written in mine twice today. You can find it, T. Just look for it.”

  Honestly, I was more interested in what she wrote in hers, curious of what a girl living in a van had to be grateful for. “What’d you write?”

  “Hmm, I have three pages so a lot.”

  “Me?”

  “Of course you. And your ring. I put it on some hemp rope so I could wear it around my neck.”

  “What else?”

  Tristan laughed first, amused at me or my inability to be excited about her exercise. “Let me see. Well, I’m grateful for our day. I’m grateful for how much you love Baby-T. I’m grateful for the butterfly that landed on his little toes today. I’m grateful for the restaurant that didn’t feed us genetically modified food. I’m grateful for the delicious apple tree I found on my walk this evening. I’m grateful, extremely grateful that my baby and me are healthy. I’m grateful for the book I got today. I’m grateful for Edward Snowden.”

  “Wait, who?” I questioned, not really liking her being grateful for another dude.

  Tristan laughed through the static, the simple little chuckle that I loved. “Some people call him a hero some call him a traitor. I was just thinking about him today, and I felt the need to be grateful for what he did.”

  “What’d he do?”

  “You really should know who Ed Snowden is. He worked for the NSA, and then he downloaded some top-secret information, gave it to a reporter, and fled the country. I call him a hero.”

  “What kind of information?”

  “Stuff about all of our privacy. Look it up. Get back to your gratitude list. I’m going to sleep now. Baby-T will be hungry in a couple hours. Dig deep, I’m sure you have lots to be grateful for.”

  “I’ll try. I have to do some stuff during the day. I’ll be there in the afternoon.”
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  “Okay, what are you doing?”

  I only lied because I wasn’t quite ready to disclose the van project yet. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to do it anymore. It was contaminated. “I have to help my dad do some shit. I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

  “Okay, try to help him with a light heart. Heavy hearts weigh you down too much. I’ll see you tomorrow. Over.”

  “Night, Mama-T.”

  I lay back onto my back, staring up to the star filled sky from my window. Even though I didn’t write it down, I did say thank you to whoever. I said thank you for Tristan and Baby-T, and then I thought about Shane Swan and Ed Snowden, sure he’d done the same thing. Sort of. Being grateful for him seemed like another thing to be grateful for. Had he not gone against the tide, he may still be here, and I wouldn’t have the opportunity with Tristan that I had.

  “Thank you,” I said aloud, feeling silly and a little out of my comfort zone as I closed my eyes.

  Chapter Eleven

  Never worry about numbers. Help one person at a time,

  and always start with the person nearest you.

  ~Mother Teresa

  I started on the van early the next morning, and although my eyes landed on the cassette tape, I refrained from shoving it in. The thought to listen to it crossed my mind several times. My finger was even on it once, ready to push.

  “Ty. Here. I brought you a sandwich.”

  A jolt of adrenaline shot through me and I jumped a foot, cracking my head on the passenger doorframe. “Jesus, Mom.”

  “Sorry, whatcha’ doing?”

  I frowned at her, taking the sandwich and rubbing the goose egg already forming on the top of my head. “What does it look like?”

  “Someone left you a message. Something about needing bank account info to deposit your video money. You sold it?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have a bank. Can I use yours and you can just give it to me?”

  “How much did you get?”

  “Not quite two grand. I’m going to put every penny in this van.”

  “How about college? You could put it in a CD or something for that.”

  “Um, no. I’m spending it on this van. It’s my money.”

  My mom raised both her hands in the air. “Fine, whatever, Ty. I just want better for you than me or your dad.”

  I couldn’t help it. Sometimes she just asked for it. Like now. At what point did she not remember that she took me from here when I was a little boy. A second grader. I wasn’t that little boy anymore and it had been too long. Her fault. Not mine. “You say that like you’re a team or something.”

  “We are a team, Tobias. Why can’t you be part of it?”

  I gave her the one look and attitude she hated most. “Mom, really now. I’m the silly one here? Would you like to go through the last ten years of my life? You want to do that?”

  “Whatever, Ty. If you want to carry a grudge for the rest of your life and hate me, that’s on you. Not me.”

  “No, you’re wrong. It’s on you. It’s all on you. I didn’t have a say in it. I was the kid, remember?”

  “And so was I! Jesus, Ty. You don’t know everything. You have no idea what it’s like to have a baby at sixteen. I wasn’t ready for you.”

  “But you are now? Now that I don’t need you, you want to make it better? And furthermore, that’s bullshit. I’m not even a legal adult yet, but I know with everything in me, I would never treat my son like you did.”

  My mom stood there, her face displaying exasperation while her head shook from side to side. With her hands on both her hips, she sighed. “And how’s that, Ty? You think you wear those shoes because you paid for them? Or that shirt. Fifty-three-dollars, Ty. That’s how much you put on my card. I remember. You haven’t always had nice places to live, a bed, and food? Huh, Ty. Who the hell do you think bought and paid for that seven-hundred-dollar class ring you don’t even wear?”

  Unbelievable. I couldn’t do it. She was hopeless. “I would have let you keep it all if you wouldn’t have moved us away from here. Me and dad had plans. We were going to fix this place up and raise cattle. We were going to build a fort in the barn. We were going to stock the pond with largemouth bass so we could catch supper every night. I only asked for this stuff because you taught me to, not for me. For you. Liz Clayton couldn’t have her kid walking around in thrift store clothing. What would all her fake friends think?”

  “Jesus, Ty. You make me sound like a piece of shit. I did what I had to do.”

  I have no idea what got into me, but it all just boiled to the surface, spewing like an erupting volcano. “Right, well guess what. I know why. I’ve always known why. Kids aren’t as stupid as you think. I knew. You think I didn’t know what you were doing every time Uncle Coop was here? All those times you told me to go outside? That’s why we left. It had nothing to fucking do with me. It was you. You did that, not me.”

  Instead of owning up to it, she passed the buck. “What about your dad? You think he was innocent in all this? Huh? You don’t know everything, Ty. You just think you do.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I sort of have this rotten spot right here in my heart for both of you. You think he ever did anything he said he was going to do? Fuck no he didn’t. He couldn’t even give up his drugs and partying to spend one fucking week with me, call me on my birthday, or send me a Christmas present. So no, my faith in my parents is pretty nonexistent.”

  Even with the swelling tears in her eyes, I didn’t care, the hatred stronger than the empathy at the moment. “What do you want me to say, Tobias?”

  Never mind an apology. She was asking me for the answer. “Nothing. Just leave me alone. I’m busy.”

  She stood there, debating on whether to continue this or not. I knew she wouldn’t. She wasn’t getting the upper hand, nothing to say that would let her off the hook. Change the subject, sweep it under the rug. That’s what she was best at and that was exactly what she did. “I hope you don’t think you’re taking off in this thing.”

  “I am. I’m taking off next weekend. Seven days from now for a weekend camping trip in Virginia. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No, not if you’re just going camping. Who are you going with?”

  “Myself. It’s just a van rally with a bunch of people boondocking,” I explained like I knew what I was talking about.

  “Boondocking?”

  “Yes, dispersed free camping.”

  “But do you know these people? What if they want to get you there just to rob you or something?”

  I rolled my eyes at the stupid things she thought of. Forget the fact that I’d just laid it all out on the table for her; pretty much just accused her of being an unfit mother, yet here she was, suddenly worried about me being alone. “I’m six-three, I’m a dude, and I can take care of myself. I’m used to it.”

  “Jesus Christ, Tobias. What do you want from me? What do you want me to do? I can’t fucking take it back. I can’t change it.”

  Screwing a sheet metal screw through the plywood, I played dumb, securing the new floor to the van. “What? You’re going to pretend like I didn’t take care of myself? Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m done. You’re a spitting image of your dad.”

  I watched her stomp out of the barn, noticing Kota eyeing the rest of my sandwich. “What? You want my food? Go ahead, you can have it,” I offered, an instant smile forming on my lips when he understood, taking it from my napkin.

  Just after noon, I sucked up my pride and drove over to my dad’s garage. Had I known he hadn’t taken lunch yet, I would have waited. I pulled to the two opened doors to an empty garage, not a soul in sight.

  “Dad?” I called, my eyes shifting to the awesome ghost flames going down the front of a Harley, deep dark purple with a white skull only noticeable by the way you looked at it. Glancing toward the coughing, I knew they were outback having a safety meeting.

  Of course they tried to hide it. My Uncle Coop snuffed
out the end of a joint and stuck it in his cigarette pack while my dad steered me inside with a hand around the back of my neck. “We were just—.”

  I squirmed, releasing his fingers from me. “Yeah, I know. You were having a safety meeting. Where’s that guy Greg? I wanted to see if I could go check out his motor home, maybe pull the sink.”

  “He’s at lunch. Come on, I’ll go with you. He won’t mind.”

  Great…

  Against my will, I jumped in the passenger seat of my dad’s truck, regretting my decision to come. It could have waited.

  “You need to lighten up on your mom, Tobias.”

  Simultaneously, I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Not only did I have to listen to it from her, she had to go and call my dad. “Yeah, okay.”

  “I’m serious, Ty. Give her a break. She’s trying.”

  “Trying what? Oh, you mean with you. Yeah, that’s cool. Can we not do this?”

  “We’re not doing this. I’m just telling you to knock it off.”

  Knock it off…Really. My dad who I hadn’t even seen in five years was telling me to knock it off. Why was I the only one who saw a problem with that? Unfortunately, it wasn’t worth the hassle. It wasn’t like it mattered anyway. “Whatever.”

  Luckily, Greg lived on a back street, a few blocks from the garage. I didn’t have to be in the truck with him for long. Thank God. My dad pulled around a mobile home to the back yard and I jumped out. He was right about one thing. The motor home had definitely seen better days. All the tires were flat and the door had been hit by something, a fallen branch maybe.

  His buddy Greg walked out the back door of his trailer and he and my dad stood there and talked, letting me do my thing. Although I didn’t even try to get the curtain rods down, they did give me an idea. Tristan’s curtains were some sort of Indian print tapestry and although the heat wasn’t really an issue up in the mountains, the thin material did little to keep it out. I had a much better idea in mind. The little sink was perfect though, just the right size.