"Together" Chapter 1

Chapter 1

TheBuzz Urgent Alert

Breaking news! Reports are coming in from across the American Northwest. A plane carrying a nuclear warhead on a routine test flight accidentally dropped its cargo over the outskirts of Cheyanne, Wyoming: the plane, a B-2 spirit, was just starting its flight from F.E Warren Air Force Base in Cheyanne to a base in Tacoma, Washington. Reports from the Cheyanne area are spotty, but casualties are in the thousands at least. The President has been briefed, and will address the nation soon. Please stay tuned to TheBuzz for more urgent alerts on this devastating crisis as they come in.

San Francisco, California, USA

“Hi Sweetie, how are things going today?”

“Oh, the world’s ending again, but I’m fine.” Mandy was fine, that is. She always hated when her Aunt Aurora interrupted her 2pm news briefings.

Aurora’s face showed concern, and when Mandy flipped her iPhone to her she frowned and bemoaned, “Well, it could have been a bigger city: I’m sure the military will spend a ton of resources increasing its safety procedures, whether this was an accident or an attack. Perhaps the military-industrial complex will be held back a little…” She paused, grimacing, and continued, “Oh, I shouldn’t be this big picture about it - all these people having their lives cut short breaks my heart.”

Oh, her heart will be truly broken eventually, thought Mandy, as she saw her Aunt’s airy smile as she looked out the window of their apartment. But it would be best to not go into full detail right now. See, Mandy’s parents landed in Cheyanne for a church conference just a few hours prior.

“I wouldn’t be so trusting in Uncle Sam, Aunty”, Mandy replied, “the gross incompetence of the government of this ‘republic’ has been shown more clearly recently, and Mr. Pres may just assign the facts of this tragedy as a fake news conspiracy while promoting his usual hogwash instead of doing anything meaningful.” In fact, a nuclear bomb came close to detonating in a 1961 accident in North Carolina.

“Well, things will float on for us,” Aurora reminisced, “We’ll head over to your meeting in a half-hour.”

As Aurora exited the room with her usual loving wink and flip of her long, brunette locks, Mandy wondered how her Aunt’s relationship with her would be affected by her mother’s sickness/death. Although the sisters’ relationship had been strained ever since college, and especially since Aurora took Mandy in, Aurora has reminisced about how inseparable the sisters were as children. Funny how one daughter became a caring, accepting, fun person while the other went down the delusional fundie Christian rabbit hole and married an abusive creep, whom she served obediently (even when he disavowed their only daughter for her homosexuality). Well, we’ll see once the Allies of All Minds meeting is over: she has a big presentation on the needed intersectional focus of climate activism.

She then prepares herself, gazing at the group of diverse activists on her wall, taking a deep breath, and laying back to the soothing words of Philosophy Tube’s Marxist Meditation.

Worcester, Massachusetts, USA

“Damn it, I shouldn’t have checked the news - now I’ll be fearful all day,” Ryan Zandoza reminisced as he walked down Park Avenue to his family’s apartment. Ryan decidedly had a news problem, as despite his best efforts to fill his mind with uplifting stories about scientific breakthroughs and miraculous moments of love, stories of imminent climate doom, disastrous new laws and executive orders, and corporate crimes always were scrolled through rapidly. It wasn’t like he was a denier that things need to change structurally; it’s just that he thinks there is progress being made on issues such as global poverty and health and that it is always better to look on the bright side (like Hans Rosling, John Green, or the people from Geography Now would say). Heck, the effort to clean up the latest catastrophe, despite its awfulness, may heal the political divisions plaguing the US.

As he entered the left side of the plain white house that he and his parents call home, his mom greeted him warmly with “Hello, love. How was your day at work?”

Although Ryan and his mother, Ana, had lived in Worcester for 13 years, they are undocumented and therefore prone to deportation back to El Salvador. Ryan is protected somewhat by a controversial Deferred Action program; he is thankful for this government action, but is still disheartened by the fact that his mothers’ asylum claim for the two of them was denied. His American father, José, met his mother on a church mission trip - they fell in love at first sight, and José returned to El Salvador after he graduated from college to marry her. Soon Ryan was born and they had a nice little yellow house with beautiful fruit trees behind it. Unfortunately, when Ruan was five the gang violence that was ripping apart their nation led to José and Ana receiving death threats; the family was forced to leave much behind and find safety in America.

After a brief daydream, Ryan answered, “Good. Freight farms is producing well, I got to make a few omelettes, and the kitchen finally listened to the foodie and his friends’ demands for full carrots at the salad bar. I have to head over to Philosophy class at 6, so can you make some of those dumplings I love? That would be awesome!”

Ana replied, “Of course,” and began the perfect routine of creating flavorful goodness.

The Zandoza’s adjusted to life fairly well in the USA fairly well despite constant unease about Ana and Ryans’ immigration status. Ryan had been picked on several times for his accent in elementary school, but had never felt significantly hampered by his ethnic identity. In fact, his family was constantly supported by their Episcopal Church community and his parents’ workplaces. Economics were the major factor holding Ryan back, as after he graduated from high school, his family could not afford to fulfill his dream of going to college full time. Instead, he worked 40 hours a week at Clark University’s dining center while taking night classes: in this first semester, he was taking Psych 101 and History of Philosophy. One day, he would like to work on settling societal disputes through group therapy (in a similar way to Truth and Reconciliation Committees).

After finishing his mother’s specialty pumpkin whoopie pies, Ryan headed out to class, and his mind drifted back to the nuclear tragedy. He first said a prayer for the victims, first responders, and families; he could not bear to think of the destruction and anguish affecting people just like him. Then, he thought of some crucial questions relating to the response to this event. How would the clean-up proceed? What or who caused the fatal error or attack? Would Americans respond with protests or silence, unity or angry discord? And what would the elephant in the room, the American government, do about all of this?

Venice, Veneto, Italy

Kevin lost control. The fright of pure terror spread through his limbs as he read the words of the newspaper. The catastrophic thoughts raced and the coping mechanisms backfired. He had to let go in the best way he knew.

As the tears rolled down his cheeks, falling out of his window into the canal under his family's apartment, his mother reflected on his two worlds of the moment. The outward, a young man incessantly, violently weeping in bursts, and the inward, a young man falling to his thoughts.

The thoughts, vividly Illustrated, developed in Kevin’s mind. France had nuclear weapons, what if an accident spilled into Italy? If it was an attack, could World War III be around the corner? How many planes flew over Venice? How many iIBCM’s are aimed at the Queen of the Adriatic? He imagined falling asleep after a tiring day of med school to either wake up in a ruined city or in heaven, where his dreams for life on Earth are dashed. The intensity of his anguish greatened until he had to do it: he screamed.

“You remembered. I'm here for you”, his mother Carlotta stated as his face remained entrenched in his pillow. I tried to keep the story in our room, but must have placed it in yours when I was cleaning this morning. I'm sorry that it upset you: know that there are no such weapons here in Italy.

“How do you know? I once read that the USA has lost a ton of its nuclear weapons. Couldn't a fanatical group control one and bring it here?”, Kevin sharply retorted.

Carlotta could see that her presence was beginning to calm him, and replied, “You know how unlikely events like this are. Do you want to live your life in fear, or do you want to embrace love as the best path forward while trusting in God to bring you through?”

Kevin smiled and walked up to her. They hugged, and Kevin said, “I'll get through this: I should focus on my schoolwork, listen to some TOP, talk to you and Dad.”

Kevin had struggled with anxiety his entire life, but the media overload that had become the norm in most First World households had taken its toll on him as he reached his teenage years. His panic attacks increased in frequency, and despite many consultations, groups, and appointments, his fear of death and destruction never went away because of the constant array of catastrophe stories on the world news. It's not like he hadn't gotten better: he agreed with his parents to limit his electronics use and media intake and he had developed some strategies in staying positive.

Perhaps it is Kevin's passion for his future that makes his fears of losing it so intense. He attended Venice International University, studying aging; this experience opened his eyes to cultures around the world and called him to pursue a career in medicine. He wants to give back, after all the medical help he had received, by helping those in need in varying circumstances around the world. Despite the anxiety-producing circumstances, he strongly becomes confident and focused when saving lives. He now attends the University of Bologna, the oldest university in the world, pursuing a pre-med degree. He commutes to stay close with his parents, who have been his Rock through many hard times. He knows he will need them in the crisis zones and surgeries he will find himself encountering in the future.

Durban, KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa

“Well that was a major American slip-up,” Khayone commented at the end of the news report. He was with his three roommates/best friends, who were beginning their daily, lively commentary on world events while lounging in their oceanview Durban apartment.

“They've been sliding for years”, Junior retarded. Everyone laughed: Lubanzi muffled, William nervously, Khayone unapologetically.

“It's unfortunately just what you'd expect from a bloated, inefficient government that has countless agencies but doesn't serve the people,” Lubanzi added. “In fact, the American Congress is despised domestically.”

William added his usual refined clarification: “What's most tragic about the nuclear accident is that the people of Wyoming have consistently been critics of government overreach and advocates of streamlining. If they were listened to, maybe the bureaucrats would for once pull back the military-industrial complex by stopping nuclear weapon transports or (he gasps) even going forward with complete nuclear disarmament, therefore saving numerous lives.

“Of course!”, the others said simultaneously. Khayone continued, “So the question is: how does a government prevent future pain?”

“Well, the USA shouldn't follow our nation, that's for sure,” Junior replied. His friends nodded. “Remember, our recent president got booted out for an arms dealing scandal, and the two main parties both want to inefficiently waste our taxes,” William asserted.

“It's sad that the same party that allowed black and colored South Africans to become free has stamped down on economic freedom with bureaucracy. We have made many improvements in my lifetime, but crime still rages on the streets near us. Our government, and as a matter of fact the USA's, needs to champion innovative entrepreneurship by stepping away from regulation, while using its minimal tax funds for security: foreign, and with South Africa's new wealth, domestic, aid agencies and philanthropists should head the path to social improvement,” Khayone stated.

“Amen to that,” snapped Lubanzi.

“I thought we were free from religion’s limits here!”, Junior mockingly but playfully questioned. Lubanzi’s nominal Christianity was a constant matter of debate. However, it nor anything else could ever separate the four friends.

They had each achieved much in the past years in order to get a fine apartment in a middle-class neighborhood. Junior’s earliest memories were of suffering under and then escaping from what must have been a human trafficking operation. He lived in the slums of Johannesburg for years, getting by through busking with a found objects drum set, before hitchhiking to the coast. Lubanzi also escaped, but he fled from a controlling and abusive cult leader for a father in Port Elizabeth. William had a decent but hard upbringing in Durban, but his parents kicked him out at 15 because of his unconventional worldview and, mostly, their lack of funds to support five children: he has worked odd and often dangerous jobs, keeping up with educational videos while straining to maintain relations with his family. Khayone's father died of AIDS before he was born, and his mother succumbed to the disease before he was one: he credits his negative HIV status and decent upbringing to a group of NGOs that have helped him from birth in Durban.

Ever since they met each other at a bunny chow eatery five years ago (Junior, now with a ramshackle drum set, had a favorite busking place outside, and the other three worked as cooks/cashiers), the friends vowed to stick together and move up in society. There have been hurdles: Lubanzi, who spoke only Xhosa when he came to Durban, could only talk to Junior at first, and had to be taught Zulu and English by the other three. As a colored person, Khayone didn't feel as strong of a connection with African culture as his friends.

Nevertheless, the friends stuck together, largely because of their shared interests in world affairs and science. They moved out of shanty towns into proper housing after many hours of hard work, and for two years now had added attending the University of Kwazulu-Natal to their schedules.

Khayone believes the sky's the limit for his friends. They all feel as if they are on track to become wealthy and successful, with William studying politics and law, Lubanzi studying philosophy, and Junior studying music. However, as a student of astrophysics and engineering, he believes that one day he will move past even the sky, to the stars.

Shenzhen, Guangdong, China

Alim's face twitched, but he barely held back the laughter as he scrolled through his WeChat feed. He couldn't wait to tell his co-workers of the latest blunder by the Western imperialists. He knew that distrust of the government, inter-ethnic strife, and the collapse of infrastructure systems were prominent in the USA, but was thrown into hilarity that even the admittedly formidable US military could be so incompetent. Structure, order, and tradition were deeply ingrained in the rhetoric of the institution, with all the salutes and alludes to honor and bravery. But yet someone or some people did not listen, was not trained to see, or even betrayed his fellow men and country. Now much valuable land and many valuable workers were gone. Such a shame for them, but to the People's Republic this could be an opportunity for power through expanding aid programs, the Belt and Road initiative, and military might, with the US internally-focused.

Of course, there was no talking for him now. He was just a regular old hardware engineer, and right now he was in a meeting with the regional chairman of China Unicom, the state-owned telecommunications corporation he worked for. The chairman was discussing the new company-wide strategic plan to expand services to new housing developments that were propping up as China's rural poor, despite the hukou system, continued to flock into cities. He stressed the importance of Alim’s branch, as it was the main hub for Shenzhen, one of the fastest-growing and most technologically innovative cities in China.

The chairman pointed to various diagrams relating to the types of Unicom products, the contractors working with the corporation, the new infrastructure in Shenzhen, and the population dynamics of the various communities within the metropolis. Yet Alim wasn't paying as much attention as he should have. It wasn't that he didn't think that the information presented was important; he had already twice thoroughly read the strategic plan after it was sent in a more thorough form through Email. It was, despite his respect for the chairman, the man's presentation style. With all of the waving, yelling, and dramatic language, he thought the leader should use some time to watch the more orderly conduct of higher-level Communist Party officials.

Finally, the chairman finished his two-hour presentation, with a chart highlighting where Unicom would expand in Shenzhen, and Alim and his 20 co-workers were free to head to lunch. Alim stood up from his seat and cautiously stepped over to where his friend Li Qiang was waiting for him. Although Li is in a different department (the office that determines through statistics where new projects should be located), his similar passion for efficiency and discipline made the two quick comrades. They were both about to reach their third year with the corporation, and loved to discuss plans for how to make it function more smoothly. Alim wanted to add more practices that showed loyalty to China at the beginning of the workday, and Li wanted all workers to send mandatory daily reports of progress to managers.

The two greeted, and Alim remarked, “You won't believe what happened in the St…”

He was cut off, and Li nervously but frankly stated “Wang Wei wants to see you: it's urgent. We'll talk later.” He trotted off to lunch with just a nod, like usual.

“Must be a big new assignment”, Alim thought. He liked the tasks of designing new shapes, styles, and functions of gadgets that Wang, the branch manager, gave him. He briskly but confidently made his way to the manager's office at the front of the common work room.

Wang is a rather straightforward man, always hating the preambles and ramblings of the regional chairman, so when Alim entered and closed the door, he got right to the point. His face was unusually solemn, and his hands were resting on the table in a formal manner. “We know you're a Muslim - I mean the regional chairman doesn't, but me and the other Shenzhen managers do. We would take the process up the hierarchy, but you show so much devotion to work and the party that we've decided to handle this ourselves. You are no longer employed by China Unicom, but we've paid for one month's rent as you sort things out with this.” He handed him a check and continued, “You're talented, it's unfortunate that your devotion is not first towards the Party. You may do better outside of China.”

Alim nodded and left the office. He realized that he had been in denial for a while now: he always could see this coming in the back of his head. As hard as he tried, his past was obvious: his name, his accent, his clothes made it obvious. He would have been better to hide them.

He was still puzzled by the animosity of his nation to his faith. Both prioritized loyalty: his submission to Allah of course came first, but his commitment to the workers struggle came close behind. The routines of his faith and nation ran parallel. The recital of prayers five times a day, which he nervously performed alone at home, still contributed to his seeking of wisdom and right action as much as the slogans he memorized and recited with peers at work.

His upbringing contributed to both his nationalism and faith. After being taken away from his separatist, terrorist Uighur parents at age two, he was raised in a Chinese education center outside Ürumqi, where he learned the history and truths of the People's Republic. These lessons and accompanying physical training strengthened him into the man he was now, a man able to take crushing events like todays with resilience. After being allowed to enter the city at age 16, he met a kind older man at a Shou La Mian restaurant. As a lifelong atheist, he was shocked to, after a few discussions, find out that the man who was speaking so eloquently about party policy was also an imam. Under imam Seypulla’s guidance, he eventually saw that the Chinese values of the common socio-economic good and filial piety were compatible with Islam, citing aspects of the faith such as Islamic Banking and Zakat. Alim’s eyes were opened, and as he began to form his faith in community he realized how believing in Allah could bring the Chinese together stronger in the development of their Nation.

After receiving an engineering and computer science degree at Xinjiang University and briefly working on a One Belt, One Road Project, Alim decided to travel to the East, seeking economic and personal growth. Although he had suffered a severe setback, he remained composed as he walked back to his apartment in the busy rush hour, trusting in Allah and his great nation (but a nation that now couldn’t understand him) to support him through. With the check he held, he knew he had time for planning and prayer.