Chapter 27: Pocket Cowboy
Inside the mansion a great chandelier hung above two arching staircases curved like a horseshoe. Four white people stood against the walls, blinking. To the left was a parlor. Naomi saw puffy chairs in there covered in leather. On the right was a dining room. On the dining table, a circle of squat TV sets chattered.
“What’re those doing there?” Sammy asked.
“They’re probably advisors or something.”
One TV showed a furry orange monster wearing a suit, spinning its head, and twirling its googly eyes like pinwheels. “That’s an advisor?” Sammy said.
“I saw something like it with the CEO in the boardroom. She was listening to what the puppets were telling her,” Naomi said.
“What were they telling her?” Sammy asked.
“Nonsense. Everybody listens to the TV, but it never says anything smart,” she said. “Where do you think this office is?”
Sammy said, “I’d say that’s it.” French doors were nestled between the stairways. Curtains filled the glass.
They went to the doors and went in.
“There’s no one here,” Sammy said. He was right. The room was obviously an executive office, complete with leather chairs and a wooden desk. Two Endless Ranchian flags flanked another pair of French doors. Naomi figured these led outside and to the horses.
On the side of the room, hanging from a strange rack, was a leather object with a thick knob on the front and stirrups hanging down the sides. There was also a loopy leather strap with a piece of metal attached to it by a pair of metal rings. Naomi moved over to the wall to get a closer look. Sammy saw them, and came over too. “That’s a saddle and a bridle,” he said.
“They’re for riding horses, aren’t they?” she asked.
“They are,” he said.
Flushing water sounded from somewhere. Naomi froze.
Sammy said, “Somebody’s here. Look.”
He pointed at the desk. A navy blue suit jacket hung on the desk chair. She opened her mouth, “We…” as a man stepped out of the hidden bathroom.
“What are you white people doing here?” the man said. “You got that paperwork?”
He was dressed in suit pants, a white shirt, and a thick red tie, and Naomi recognized the governor. He even had Endless Ranchian paste barrels emblazoned on his boots. He had wide-set eyes and bushy brows. His salt-and-pepper hair was bookended by big ears.
“You got that new part of the P.A.S.T.R.I.O.T. A.C.T.?” he asked. They knew they weren’t supposed to say anything, so they just stood there. She looked over at Sammy and he looked back.
“You know what I’m talking about? The P.A.S.T.R.I.O.T. A.C.T.? So we can monitor all of the terrorists?”
The governor sat at the desk. He said, “There are two terrorists on the loose right now. That’s why we went into Oklahoma. We got to beat these pasterrorists where they live, even if they live in Endless Ranches and may not be pasterrorists. We got to take their horses.”
Sammy shook his head at Naomi, but she just didn’t have it in her to keep quiet. “There is no reason to take other people’s horses,” she said. “Don’t you already have enough?”
The governor raised his eyebrows. “That’s not Endless Ranchian,” he said. “You sure you’re a white person? Because you sure don’t sound like one. We need all the horses we can get. You got to be pasteriotic!”
“You have enough horses,” Naomi said.
“That’s how that works, though. There are the horses and the horse-nots. I just happen to be the horses.”
“But there are enough horses for everybody,” she said.
“That doesn’t sound very Endless Ranchian. Not pasteriotic at all,” he said.
“What does Endless Ranches have to do with it?” Naomi said.
“Everything. If you aren’t for Endless Ranches, than you are against it,” said the governor.
“And Endless Ranches is about taking what isn’t yours and hoarding horses and listening to the paste company instead of the townspeople and going to war with other states to take what we already have enough of?” she blurted.
“That’s what the paste company wants,” said the governor, “and they get what they want.”
“But it isn’t good for Endless Ranches,” Naomi said.
“What is good for the paste company is good for Endless Ranches,” the governor said.
“So that’s why Town Hall does whatever the paste company wants!” Naomi shouted.
The governor gave a little laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Naomi asked.
“Town hall doesn’t govern Endless Ranches,” the governor said, still laughing. “Town hall is one of those Biodomes.”
“A what?” Naomi said. Sammy tugged on her arm.
“Like a glass box where people dress up,” he continued. “A living museum. You know, people dress up and act like politicians.”
She said, “It’s a living museum.”
“Acting,” the governor said. “Like the movies in the movie theaters. The congress isn’t real.”
“Then what’s it for?” Naomi said.
“It makes people feel safer, like they’re being heard and have control over things,” the governor said.
She said, “But they don’t have any control.”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” he said.
“How did you get here then?” she shouted.
“Behind the paste factory?” he said.
“No, into office,” she said. “How did you get into office?”
“Oh,” said the governor, “I was in the bathroom. Does that explain the explanation?”
“No,” said Naomi. She couldn’t figure out if he was stupid, or just being difficult. His idiocy was like a kind of genius. “How did you get elected governor?”
“Oh,” said the governor, “the paste company took care of that.”
“Took care of what?” she said.
“The paste company made me governor.”
“What about the election?” she said.
“What about the election?” he said.
“You are supposed to be elected governor,” she said.
“I was elected,” he said, “by the paste company.”
“That isn’t being elected,” Naomi said.
“That’s exactly what I am telling you,” he said.
“How did you get to be governor?” she said.
“I’m rich.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know how it works.”
“What if a poor person wants to be governor?” Naomi asked.
“Poor people can’t govern. You have to be rich to govern,” the governor answered.
“What are you doing to govern?” she said.
“Oh, I’m not governing. I am spreading pasteocracy,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“You know, taking away people’s freedoms so they can have liberty.”
“That doesn’t make any sense at all.”
“You don’t have to make sense to win.”
“Win what?” she said.
“The war on pasterrorism,” he said.
“I thought you were spreading pasteocracy,” she said.
“Parts of a whole,” he said.
“My brother died in Oklahoma,” Sammy finally said after standing silently beside her for so long.
“That’s quite a sacrifice for Endless Ranches,” said the governor.
Sammy said. “He didn’t have to die. Now I have another brother over there.”
“How’s he doing?” the governor asked.
“I don’t think we should be there,” Sammy said.
The governor shot out of his chair, his big ears suddenly red with anger. “That’s not what I asked you.” He paced the room. “I was asking about your brother.” He seemed to be looking for a way out of the office. He banged on the wall, expecting a d
oor. There was no door, so he crossed the room and banged on the wall there. The bathroom opened, and he went inside.
Naomi could not figure out why he had been so calm, and then got angry all of a sudden. “That got him going,” she said.
From the other side of the door Naomi heard the governor speaking. “Yeah. Get Pasteland Security. I think I got two pasterrorists.”
“We have to get out of here,” Naomi said.
The office doors opened, and six white people trickled in. They stopped when they saw Naomi and Sammy.
“The disguises,” Sammy said. “They can’t tell we’re normal.”
“Let’s go,” Naomi said.
She grabbed the bridle from where it hung on the wall. She didn’t know how to use it but she knew she would need it.
The bathroom door cracked open and the governor peeked out. Naomi turned to follow Sammy, who opened the door to the horses. They went out. In the dimming light of dusk, Naomi saw a narrow stairway surrounded by fences, leading from the porch to the horse pen below.
The governor yelled, “It’s them! Get the pasterrorists.” The white people snapped like they were waking up. No sooner had Sammy closed the door behind them than the door handles began to turn.
“I don’t think we can stop them,” Sammy said. The doors shook.
“Leave it,” Naomi said, as she ran down the stairs. She heard the doors slam open behind her, and the sound of Sammy’s pounding feet following her.
“They stopped,” Sammy yelled. She turned to see the white people with their heads bent like they could not stay awake.
Naomi thought about what Adelaide said about starting at dusk so white people fell asleep. She said, “You think we’re safe?”
Sammy said, “No, look.”
The governor appeared. He shouted something and other white people appeared. They wore visors that shined light on their eyes, making them quicker.
It was getting harder to see in the fading light, but Naomi turned and sprinted until she crashed into a chain link gate. Sammy crashed into the gate beside her. He unhinged the simple metal latch, and opened the gate. They both crossed to the other side. Sammy went to close the gate, but Naomi, seeing the white people approaching faster than she could believe, yelled, “Leave it!”
They ran to the next gate. When Sammy reached for the latch, Naomi warned, “It may shock you.” Sammy did not even flinch, and the door swung open.
Finally, Naomi stepped into a field filled with horses.