Flash Fiction Friday: We’re Watching You

My daughter was in the bank the other day and heard an exchange between a man and the bank. He was withdrawing a large sum of money, the teller input the amount into her system. Moments later, the IRS was on the phone, asking him why he needed such a large sum withdrawn. Turns out he was buying a neighbor’s boat for cash. My reaction was, Wow! Here’s my story.

We’re Watching You

“Yes,” Scott did a fist pump; his football team had made a touchdown.  He sat the barrel of his .22 rifle down and reached for a beer. The doorbell rang. “Shit, right in the middle of the game.” He put the beer down and answered the door.

There were two men standing there, dressed in black suits and ties on a Sunday afternoon. “Yes?”

“Mr. Hersey, I’m Agent Winehouse, this is my partner, Agent Kavi, we’re from Homeland Security.”

Scott shrugged, “Yeah?”

“Mr. Hersey, we’re here because you’re drinking alcohol and cleaning a weapon. That behavior needs to cease right now.”

“Seriously?” Scott gripped the doorknob tighter. “I’m watching the game and cleaning my .22. What’s the problem?”

“Mr. Hersey, you understand that imbibing alcohol and working with firearms is dangerous. If you refuse to cease that activity, we’ll confiscate the weapon.”

“Oh for…,” he let go of the doorknob and took a breath. After all, these guys were just doing their jobs, keeping everyone safe. “Yes, I’ll put the .22 away and clean it some other time.”

Agent Winehouse stepped back, “Thank you sir, we appreciate the cooperation in keeping you safe.”

They turned and left. Scott watched them get into their car and drive away. He slammed the door shut. “Damn Homeland Security, always getting into everyone’s business.” He walked into the living room and picked up the rifle pieces in the towel and put them in the garage. “Always watching everything we do.”

When his wife Marie got home he complained to her about it.

“Scott, you know they expanded their scope after the murder, rape, assault and burglary rates dropped to just about nothing. You voted for it yourself.” She put her new blouse in the closet as he flopped on the bed.

“I know,” he lay back, hands under his head. “But I didn’t think they’d be spying on regular guys just having a quiet Sunday at home.”

She turned and looked at him. “You were drinking and messing with a gun, Scott. What did you expect?”

He sat up, “It was just a couple of beers while I watched the game. I wasn’t hurting anyone.”

“Maybe so, hon, but you know accidents happen.” She walked around to his side of the bed and took his head in her hands. “I’m glad you didn’t get hurt.” She kissed him on the forehead. “Now come on, I bought steaks for dinner; get the grill ready would you?”

#

The next Saturday, Scott was at his favorite watering hole with his best friends, Ramon, Ward and Jim. He told them about his visit from Homeland last Sunday.

“Jeesh, Scott. I know what you’re sayin’,” Ward replied. “I was getting’ ready to squirt some lighter fluid on my barbeque coals, they weren’t goin’, ya know? Anyway, I pick up the bottle and head for the grill when two guys come racin’ inta the yard, yelling ‘put the bottle down!’ I almost wet myself. Then I get a big lesson on how squirting lighter fluid on already live coals could cause burns, death and disfigurement.” He slugged down half of his beer. “Can’t do anything anymore without the damn government gettin’ all up in your face.”

The men all nodded. Ramon spoke up. “Two weeks ago me and the old lady were havin’ a fight in the kitchen. Next thing I know, Homeland is bustin’ in the kitchen door. Separated me and the wife. Took four hours for us to convince them we was just havin’ a discussion.”

Jim took a swig of his whiskey and soda. “I don’t know how much more I can take. They’re at the door, callin’ on the phone.” He looked around the table. “You guys thought I was being a jerk for sayin’ I wouldn’t vote for the increased scope. Now, here we are. I don’t know how much more I can take. Shit, I was called on my phone the other day for crossin’ the damn street in the middle of the block.”

Scott scratched his head. “What’ll we do? Lots of people want Homeland to keep us safe. They like that all the crime rates are down.”

Ramon shook his head, “Big difference between stoppin’ a rape and stoppin’ Jim from jay walkin’.”

They all nodded, Scott ordered another round.

Ramon broke the silence, “I’m thinkin’ of takin’ the family back to Mexico. We still have relatives there and the political situation isn’t like it was back in 2012. My company has offices down there and Mexico doesn’t have Homeland Security.”

Jim stared at Ramon for a minute, “Funny you should say that. I was thinkin’ of goin’ off grid.”

The whole table stared at him. Scott broke the ice, “No TV? Cell phones?”

Jim nodded. “My family has property in Virginia. An old farm; never was updated. We can move there, keep out of the government’s eye.”

“Damn, Jim. That’s pretty extreme,” Ward sat forward, leaning across the table. “What’s your wife say?”

“She says it’s OK by her. She’s sick of it too.”

They guys all nodded.

A month later Scott, Ward and Ramon met at their bar. Scott waited till they all had a beer, “Did you hear?”

They shook their heads.
“Marie told me. Jim and his wife were arrested, right in the middle of loading the moving van. Homeland took them, said they were anti-social. They’re in a psych ward until Homeland says they’re ready to re-integrate into society.”

The End

913 Words

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