Chapter 5
Reclamation

    Charlotte Earnshaw has been unhappy for such a very long time.  She can't say when it began, because when someone feels his or her will and determination slipping away, the sub-conscious will deny such a phenomenon for quite awhile and in fact, such a circumstance may never be admitted to oneself, thus entrapping someone in a depression that will not end.
    She was captivated by Howard from the very first moment she saw him.  His dashing good looks, kind and considerate manner and dedication as a doctor seized all  her emotions and in a manner of analysis, imprisoned her in a love and admiration from which she could not escape.  But escape never entered her mind - quite the contrary.  She knew he was the man she wanted to marry and that hope, that romance dominated all that she did.  When he proposed to her, she set aside all the hopes she had known for her life and dropped out of college, because it felt quite natural  her place was in the home - especially when the children were born.  
    Those years were so wonderful but remembering her happiness, to some extent, is what has led her to the emptiness and yearning she now feels.  Everyone wants to hold on to youth, but she never feared getting old all that time she was happy and only expected her love to take on a new dimension as time went on. When the children moved on to their own lives, she was left with nothing, and was tormented by those haunting questions - what if I had finished college, where would I be now, what if....what if?  Finally, she was faced with the terrible fact that much of her life was gone and she had no hopes for the future, especially since her husband's career had so consumed him and now it was he as well who was only clinging to a life that had imprisoned him.  Then came the day she finally realized she must do something....something to free herself from the emptiness and want that had consumed her.
    Sitting there at mass, from outward appearance, they seem the ideal couple.  Howard has such a distinguished look with his graying hair and dark suit.  She compliments the insinuation with her dark blue suit, white silk blouse and short gray hair that is near the identical color of her husband's.  Howard was not at all pleased when she insisted they move their membership to The Church Of The Restoration but finally agreed, never realizing such a move was one of the few remaining means he could give his wife what she wanted and needed.  Even at that, there was something of an argument this very morning when she insisted on wearing the armband of a party member of The Restoration.  Such arguments have been commonplace since she went to work at Burger Busters, and she has been somewhat amused at his insistence such work is "trite and unsuitable for someone in her position," whatever that means.
    The truth is since she enlisted in The Church Of The Restoration Volunteers, she has at last felt an energy and motivation, long since lost in a marriage now standing in inertia and incapable of moving in any positive direction.  At first, she felt so liberated - just being away from the house with walls that seemed to close in further and further each day.  The first few weeks, all the Burger Buster employees were suspicious of a woman her age and in "her position" finding herself on her feet 10 hours a day and taking $1.00 tips.  Surely, there was some subversion motive, and she wasn't the Joan of Arc she seemed when she became interested in The Restoration's crusade to feed the homeless and begin renovation of the old Techside Apartments that have been standing there vacant and deteriorating for who knows how many years.  But there was a new purpose in her life, a new beginning that was freeing her from a life confiscated by the need to remain in the correct position and retain an outward appearance that was such a lie. 
    Ideas and intent filled all those hours she could only think of the past.  She wasn't discouraged when she took her ideas to the store manager whose only ambition was to keep all the tables wiped off and see that none of the customers remained in their seats after they finished their meals.  Some customers would not wait to be seated; and as a result, total sales volume was reduced with no reduction in material and labor costs, thus producing an adverse effect on progressive statistics.  At least, that was the view of the regional manager when she first sat down with him several weeks ago, hoping he would give her a chance to explain what she felt was an opportunity to do something worthwhile and who knows, maybe even contribute to progressive statistics.  Initially, she could only use her most obvious attributes and was sure her dress was well above her knees and some of her brassiere was visible above the top of her lapels the first several times she spoke with him.  When he finally recognized his erection wasn't going to lead him to some dingy motel room, which was what he had at first thought she wanted, he began to listen to her but his erection remained firm.  Even at that, he saw the merit of her ideas.  What if Burger Buster organized all the fast food chains in Atlanta to contribute food and volunteers to the homeless shelters and construction projects of the The Restoration?  She even wrote a script for a television commercial showing uniformed Burger Buster employees handing out food in a homeless shelter rather than through a drive-in window.  He was especially impressed by the narrative about contributing to the community and immediately grasped the public relations benefit of such a campaign that could be supplied largely by left-overs that would have been discarded at the end of each day with no contribution to the community or progressive statistics for that matter.
    She didn't care if he still had visions of her, naked and peeling off his clothes in some hastily-arranged, rushed encounter that served to satisfy his sexual appetite rather than spending the noon lunch hour eating one of those greasy burgers for which he lost his taste years ago the first time he read the food content label.  She skillfully enticed him with comments open to several interpretations until he took her off the floor and placed her in charge of organizing the campaign.  The Leader was delighted when she first spoke with him.  The influence of The Restoration was growing quite rapidly; and when he called the home office of Burger Busters, they immediately saw the benefit of such a campaign that would have cost them millions of dollars through an advertising agent.  This way, they would achieve the public relations image for free, dispose of the left-overs and increase progressive statistics - all at the same time.  After everyone had committed to the program and it became public knowledge, only then did she present the menu for the campaign, carefully formulated by a dietitian and providing for only some of the left-overs.

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    When the Mass began and Charlotte saw The Leader in the entrance procession, she expected he would be the celebrant but he only took his seat at the sides of the alter boys without uttering a word.  Her thoughts have been on the crusade, and she hasn't paid much attention to the young priest's homily.  Finally, she listens to his closing words that are very articulate and surprisingly, seem directly intended for her.

  "We often speak of experiences in life and how they lead one to some good intent and purpose but can cut yet another loose like an untrained dog to wander where he may and eventually be killed by a motorist who doesn't feel it necessary to stop.  Every man and woman has a need to serve some purpose, bring happiness to someone and venture beyond what is often a self-imposed border.  With no such goal or intent, there is a vacuum in life so easily filled by hate and resent - even sometimes to the point a person feels justified in resorting to crime or any number of means to strike back at a world, ever so unkind and unaccommodating.  Such a vacuum does not seize upon a life without ample warning.  A person can always feel will and intent slipping away until finally, there is only complacency....then resent....then a whole new intent to turn away from a world that has cast them out.  For many, there is always the question 'what did I ever to to deserve this?'  Within the barriers that already exist in such a person's mind, there can be no answer.  If any of us feel we are at such a point in our own lives, rather than lamenting on something we are sure is undeserved, let us ask ourselves the question 'what can I do....what can I do?'  We can start by trying some simple act of kindness each day which may well begin as only an act of self-endearment but as the barriers begin to come down, we can judge the way we feel at the end of each day and know we can fill some purpose, be it ever so small.  First, think of those in your family.  Ask yourself what thoughts and hopes may be in their minds and are you a part of them or an obstruction?  Once we begin to see the look of appreciation in their eyes and the smile on their faces, we can know that thinking of others often requires much less effort that being consumed with ourselves.  Call or visit someone who is sick.  Make some contribution in effort, and not only money, to something you know is worthwhile.  Filling the vacuum with these simple steps can led us away from the ruin certain to result from self-pity.  So often, within the walls of a church or our homes, we offer prayers that others might take this same will, this same effort to free themselves from despair.  Perhaps we should offer this same pray for ourselves.  Don't expect some miracle or on the spot redemption for despair often forms over many years, and there cannot be an over-night reclamation towards a meaningful life but someday.... someday, we can be sure of the course of our future lives.  It will be the last day of the past."

    The priest kneels before the alter and returns to his seat.  There is a silence as The Leader walks to the lectrum.  His eyes first sweep over the congregation; and as he briefly glances at the homilist, he begins, "Many members and organizations have, or I should say are, undergoing precisely what was so well-spoken in the homily.  Membership transfers have far exceeded the 20% of Catholics we first anticipated.  There is a marshalling of volunteers, some with critical skills, waiting for assignments to a number of crusades we shall soon set in motion.  This follows many days and weeks of volunteer work and organization, and I am happy to announce that tomorrow, Operation Proletarian will begin an extensive renovation project at the old Techside Apartments, which you may know is a group of buildings that has stood in ruin for many years.  This operation represents many powerful examples of the first steps in restoring the nationalism that has somehow fell to the side - evicted if you will by many of the influences now running rampant through the country.  I won't take on the mannerism of a money-grabbing evangelist and expand on that."
    "Only consider that all the unskilled work will be done by residents of the homeless shelter now in several of the buildings adjacent to the church.  Skilled trades and supervision will be done by volunteers from quite a few service companies in the Atlanta area, and I must say the most encouraging feature of the whole operation is that the property was donated by Rubenstein Properties - a long-standing family business of Melvin Rubenstein who is now the adjutant of The Church Of The Restoration.  Yes, a Jew.  It was the Jews who crucified Christ, and it is indeed fitting they should be a part in restoring all that has been lost over centuries that only yielded more and more denominations and greater and greater segmentation of religious belief.  I won't dwell on the need that we become an ultra-nationalistic society under one unified religion.  Only know that similar projects with many volunteers are being launched all over the country, and as the crusades of The Restoration expand, this will become ever more obvious."
    "Funding and management for all these projects is coming from donations consisting of monetary from church membership and organizations with no affiliation to The Restoration - and equally important, volunteer labor from the service contractors.  Upon completion, the buildings will be used as housing for the homeless but the effort will not stop there.  Again, mostly through volunteers, a network of employment agencies is being established to find jobs for "these people" as they are often called.  Techside Apartments, as it now stands, is a portrait of many lives - run-down, forgotten and in tears, but if we can reach the homeless with kindness and understanding, only giving them a chance to reclaim their lives before they reach their own last day of the past, we can save them from being washed away by hate and resent that can only led to crime and who knows what after that?"
    "I would like to recognize only one of the many volunteers.  Would Charlotte Earnshaw please come forward?"
    Charlotte is surprised and stunned.  She slowly walks forward, kneels at the cross and kisses The Leader's hand.  The Leader places her hand in one palm and gently pats it with the other before reaching into his pocket and removing 2 objects.  He faces the congregation and says, "Charlotte became a Restoration party member some months ago and since then has been very hard at work organizing the food service businesses in Atlanta to the point we can now provide 3 donated meals a day for all the workers in Operation Proletarian.  She has certainly earned the rank of colonel.  He hands her the profile eagles and again faces the congregation.  He holds up a pin some 3" high and 3" wide.  It is an oblong, silver wreath enclosing a light blue background on which is the profile image of the face of St. Jude Thaddeus.  "She is the first recipient of The Saint Jude's Badge for her extraordinary innovation and effort without which Operation Proletarian would have been set back many weeks."
    He pins the badge on her coat.  Briefly, she glances down at it before again kneeling before the cross and returning to her seat where her husband is entranced in an expression difficult to interpret. After the closing prayer, she walks to the entrance, places her fingertips in the holy water, kisses her palm and extends it to the crucifix.  As they drive back to The Summit, there is a fixed stare in her eyes, and she is lost in thought.  She doesn't appear to hear her husband when he says something about how proud she should be.  As they enter the foyer, she carefully removes The Saint Jude's Badge from her coat before going upstairs.  For quite a few minutes, there is no sound.
    Howard is confused by his own emotions and is unsure if he is really proud of his wife or if he should regard such an award as a trivial gesture with no particular meaning.  Quietly, he goes up the stairs and stops at their bedroom door.  Charlotte has her Burger Buster shirt and vest in her lap and is carefully, almost lovingly, pinning on the emblems.  He can see tears in her eyes as, still not noticing him, she hangs the garments in her closet.  For a moment, she pauses and looks at her rank and award hanging in the closet.  Abruptly, she wipes the tears from her eyes which take on a whole new appearance of determination as she goes to her small desk and begins work on the duty rosters and menus for Operation Proletarian.  Although no words are spoken, each of them knows she has at last reached her last day of the past.

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    The small convoy of 4 food service trucks makes its way along Spring Street and through an area that once was filled with small retail business but now, mostly vacant buildings stand in various stages of disrepair with boarded up windows and many have spray painted messages that can hardly be taken as any form of modern philosophy - yet only another reminder of the social and racial fragmentation that has seized so many such areas throughout the country.
    Charlotte Earnshaw's thoughts for the past few weeks have not been centered primarily on her own unhappiness but on her work in The Restoration.  It isn't a reclamation of something she has lost, and she isn't sure she would want her past life to return, even if that were possible.  Time and events change people from what they once were into the person they eventually become - sometimes as a matter of choice but sometimes as a matter of unfortunate circumstances they did little to create.  For so long, she tried to hold on to something that was no longer there, but that's all behind her now.  What she feels isn't reclamation - it is liberation from a world in which she no longer belonged.
    She watches the small black and white flag of The Church Of The Restoration as it tosses from side to side in the bumper slot of her vehicle.  The convoy turns into the Techside Apartments where some 100 men from the homeless shelter are unloading building materials and carrying them to the various buildings.  A number of trucks belonging to the volunteer contractors are parked on the street, and all the tradesmen are dressed in identical khaki uniforms and all are wearing armbands.  The convoy stops just off the street, and a large, robust man with captain bars on his collar reports to Charlotte.  "Captain Donavan, job site officer."  He offers the traditional military salute instead of outreached hands which Charlotte takes as appropriate under the circumstances.
    As she returns the salute, there is a vigor that flows through her body.  When she first enrolled in college, she had no idea her life would eventually lead her to a job site staffed by "that kind of people" and she would be at the side of "the working class" in a crusade of the sort that she never imagined.  Instead, she always saw herself in some conference room with one of those little square brief cases addressing a group of well-groomed committee members and pointing to facts and figures on charts and diagrams.  But now, there they are - ruddy, unshaven men in wrinkled clothes eagerly moving towards the serving area for their noon meal.
    Charlotte sets up the serving line, being sure everything is in the order she had planned.  A few times in the past, she had volunteered to bring the evening meal to the homeless shelter and was always struck by the vacant, blood-shot stare in the men's faces.  Now, as the men move through the line, she senses they may well be feeling a sense of reclamation to their own lives.  The vacant stare is not there.  There is a vitality to their voices as most of them say, "Thank you," when they receive their meals.  Then too, there is an element of surprise that the meal isn't the same hastily prepared macaroni and cheese or cold sandwiches usually served by the shelter volunteers.  The portable heating tables display the assortment of vegetables, ham, white chicken slices and pound cake in a manner the men can readily see care and thought has been extended to them.  Many can't remember the last time that happened.
    They all sit on the ground around the job site.  The first thing Charlotte notices is the Spanish and Oriental workers did not choose to sit by themselves.  They're all mixed in with the Caucasians and Negroes, and they're all talking and joking, "Pass the hog, Bob" and, "Pass the bread, Fred."  The contractors receive their meals after the workers are served and immediately go to the several groups and sit among them.  Only a few short weeks ago, without a common bond and purpose, such a scene would have been impossible.  The races would have chosen to separate themselves; and instead of laughing and joking with each other, they would be exchanging comments on "those fucking wetbacks and squint eyes" or usually in a foreign language, "those frigging niggers and nillas."
    Several vacant parking lots are adjacent to the work site, and there is a slight incline leading up to West Peachtree Street.  At the top of the incline is a single, black late model car with 2 bearded men looking down on the work site. 
   One of the workers says, "Well, there they are again.  I never thought I'd be working in front of an audience but they're up there everyday." 
    Cecil Stratman appears from nowhere.  He's wearing the same khaki uniform and armband as the tradesmen, the rank of sergeant major and has a cell-phone strapped to his belt.  Immediately, he goes over to the workers and asks, "Are those men really up there everyday?"
    One man with a mouthful and heavy Spanish accent, making it him difficult to understand, replies, "Oh yeah, they come up there about this time everyday and watch awhile.  Then, they get in that car and drive away."
    Another worker adds, "It's sort of like going to the zoo.  People stop awhile in front of the cages and then move on to the picnic area."
    Everyone laughs and continues taking very large bites of the meal they fully appreciate.
    Charlotte doesn't understand Stratman's expression or why he moves well away so no one can hear what he is saying on his cell-phone.  By the time the meal is finished, 2 vans bearing the insignia of The Church Of The Restoration appear where the black vehicle had been parked.  Several men in black, swat team sort of fatigues begin to position themselves at intervals around the job site.  She recognizes this is the uniform of the Security Shield (SS) force of C3, the operations section of The The Restoration.  She is surprised each of them is carrying some type of rifle.