!A fire in Galilee
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by Anna @ 2004
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Chapter II: Cassie Wheeler's think lines
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Cassie Wheeler hates the blacks. They had cut her
daddy when she was real young, and then they shot
him dead when she was sixteen. A black would kill
you over fifty dollars, over the color of your
shirt. It was no wonder the government was trying
to appease them with affirmative action and white
women. Emperor Augustus even picked blacks to be
judges and put them in government.
Cassie Wheeler knew what the government was doing
with the blacks. They already outlawed the free
market. Now they was making them into government
slaves with welfare and judgeships and all this
Socialist shit.
If the government can give you something good, they
can take it away too. Keeping the blacks scared
they could lose their rights, the government can
use them to control regular Galileans. Don't think
race policy only affects them. The tyrants running
the show'll probably use the blacks to take away
people's guns when they get ready.
The water in the shower was turning cold, but
Cassie Wheeler stood steady under it, determined to
follow her thoughts to their conclusion.
She didn't know why they went messing in blacks in
the first place. Didn't they have enough decent
people willing to work hard they didn't have to get
the blacks from Africa and Jordan, bring them over
here? And now the government giving them welfare
checks and guaranteed jobs and spots in white
schools, flying over crack and heroin to keep them
under control. As far as Cassie Wheeler was
concerned, the blacks weren't people so much as a
kind of biological warfare. She didn't know what to
do about them, but here they are, dropping litters
of babies.
Cassie Wheeler got out of the shower and fixed her-
self for work. In the mirror she saw her face, too
deeply creased for a Galilean woman under forty.
She called the creases her think lines, because she
thought a lot more than she let on. The only way
someone would know is if they looked and saw her
think lines. It didn't matter none if wouldn't
nobody listen to her. When she figured out what to
do with the blacks, she would go ahead and do it,
nevermind that she's a woman. Let any man try to
stop her. Once she got of a mind to do something,
she want and did it. There was no two ways about
the thing.
"C'mere darlin'," Earl called from the living room.
He wrapped his big arm around her and held her butt
with his big hand. She bent down and kissed him.
"See you tonight sweetie," Cassie Wheeler said, her
face creased up. Earl was watching the fishing show
past her.
It was two miles give or take to Cassie Wheeler's
job and her feet was always dusty when she got
there. She thought the whole way. As she came in
sight of the Sea of Galilee with the fishing boats
out on it she wondered why Earl couldn't just start
his own operation if wouldn't nobody hire him. He
was getting so he was like the blacks, waiting on
the government to fix his predicament. But the
government wasn't trying to enslave whites, so he
wouldn't get any assistance.
What he needed was to get some initiative, like she
had, and get those big arms he still had from
pouring concrete moving. She pictured how those
arms would flex pulling in a loaded net.
She unbuckled her sandals and washed off each foot
before going into the Galilee Regional building.
The sign over the door said Galilee Regional
Psychiatric Rehabilitation Services. The waiting
area was plastered with notices about getting all
your papers out, the values of medications, turning
off your cell phone, locking up your valuables, and
knowing your rights because it's the law.
Most people didn't talk to Cassie Wheeler at work;
she suspected they thought she was scowling on
account of her think lines, even though she pulled
back her lips and flashed her gums at them to
indicate she was smiling.
* * *
After all the mental health consumers had sat down
or been brought into the room and arranged in a
circle, Cassie Wheeler stood up and introduced the
levels system.
"You get points for coming to group, you get points
for participating, and you get points for clean
urines. How many points you get determines what
level you are. Each level up carries more privileg-
es like going to the bathroom unaccompanied or
getting chocolate at snack time, or getting to
participate in games night. You lose points for
sassing a staff member, breaking any of the rules,
not taking your medications, or for not finishing
all your lunch.
"Level zero is what everybody comes in here on, and
it's restricted for a probationary period. It is no
privileges at all. Level fives get the most
privileges."
Cassie Wheeler pointed at a laminated chart on the
far wall with colored bars in ascending order:
black, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and white.
Names were written by each bar in dry-erase marker.
"If you look at the cahrt, you can see the levels
for yourself. If you don't read, you can ask a
staff person to read the privileges and responsib-
ilities for your level to you. Those of you who
ain't blind can see the black-colored level under
level zero. That level's for punishment. Trust me
when I say you don't want to go through that level.
You all seen them when they come back after it, so
you know we do not mess around."
Cassie Wheeler rattled off her script without
looking at anyone in the room. She liked her job
because she could keep thinking the whole time she
worked. She didn't expect any success stories. If
people left the program it was usually just because
they transferred to another one. When she showed up
at her job interview, she shook her boss's hand,
discussed her master's thesis with him, and he told
her not to expect any success stories.
"I don't expect any success stories," Cassie
Wheeler said to the group, "but if you all follow
your treatment plans and listen to the staff,
recovery is possible. Recovery is exciting! You get
chocolate bars and games nights when you recover."
assie wWheeler pulled back her lips to flash her
gums at the mental health consumers as she sat
down, but she was not smiling inside. Inside her
thoughts was blackened by thoughts of her daddy.
Her daddy had been a real saint. He had fought and
died in the arm service when sh was born, and then
come back to nurture her with his love.
She thought about what it said in the bible about
saints. When the third angel in Revelation poured
his bowl in the rivers and springs they became
blood, and the water-angel talked about the saints.
The water-angel said, "Because they shed the blood
of saints and prophets, you have given them blood
to drink. It is what they deserve!"
On the outside though, Cassie Wheeler pulled back
her lips to indicate a smile and said, "Why don't
we begin winth introductions? Starting with the
person to my right, everybody say your name and
level. If you just got here, you're a level zero."
Sheena was the person to the right, so she started.
"I'm Sheena and I'm a level zero. I just got here."
Cassie Wheeler's think lines deepened until she got
home. What did it mean that the rivers and springs
were blood? Did the good Galileans have to drink
blood too? Was it blood that came out all the taps
in all the sinks? Was it congealing blood stinking
out the bowl of every toilet?
Cassie Wheeler felt some little cramps down in her
pelvis while she walked home. She was ovulating.
She lay down in bed alone and slept.
Earl woke her. It was almost dark out. They were
going to spend Sabbath with Elizabeth and her
children. They had to get there before it was you
could see the evening star. Earl hardly talked as
he lifted her onto the already packed donkey he had
borrowed for the occasion. They arrived, lit the
candle with Elizabeth and the children, drank juice
and brushed teeth. Then Cassie Wheeler fell again
to sleep.
In her sleep Cassie Wheeler knew Earl was holding
onto her that night. She suspected he had figured
she was having a hard time of it lately. While he
wasn't no saint like her daddy, he had a nurturing
heart in him when you looked past the big arms and
big hands. Her thoughts shifted away from Earl.
"You come home to nurture me with your love," she
had said. "You fought and died in the arm service
to be sure I was safe, and you come home to nurture
me with your love."
"That's right, Cass," her daddy said. "You're my
flesh and blood daughter. I have been all over and
I know now as ever, you are one special kid. Ain't
nothing as important as nurturing your own flesh
and blood with your love."
He tucked her in, his face in a shadow cast from
the tree, a soft moon-shadow. He kissed her
forehead. Out the window a goat lay down and slept.
She looked for the other two, but the window was
small. Daddy went out to do his business.
* * *
Cassie Wheeler woke when Earl got up to go outside.
He came back and lay down by her again. Saw she was
awake.
"Earl," she said, "You have on your thinking face."
He looked at her, both of them laying in the dark.
All he could see was the shine of the wetness of
her eye.
"Earl," she said, "I know you want to nurture me
with your love, but I can listen too." She put her
listening face. Didn't matter he couldn't see it.
Earl's face got so she could see something complex
was going on. "I seen the doctor today," he said.
Then quick, "while I was walking I mean."
He went walking? But Cassie Wheeler put her
thoughts aside.
"There was a cloud by the sea. He was talking and
faith-healing like I heard he did. I stood and
watched in the back for a while. He didn't have any
bodyguards I could see. His sandals wudn't new
either. His teeth was bad."
Cassie Wheeler got to worrying that fake doctor
with his black self had tricked her Earl. She hung
on, pushed the worry out, listened.
"He talked about his movement and healed a while. I
couldn't see too good. I didn't want to go closer.
Then he got on a boat and went out on the Sea."
Cassie Wheeler opened her mouth. "Ooh sweetie," she
said. Her worry came back. "Did you believe in
him?" She stopped herself. "Ooh go to sleep
sweetie." She didn't feel safe. "Is the door
locked?
Earl looked worried, said "Yes."
"Ooh go to sleep sweetie," Cassie Wheeler said
again. "Lets go to sleep."
