Photo by Wesley Tingey on Unsplash

The long national nightmare is over, and the reckoning begins. This is fiction, but won’t always be.

The bald bulky ex-ICE officer appeared shrunken and weak. Perhaps the 7 hours of testimony removed his bravado. Or perhaps he just now realized he’d be held accountable.

A very old man, who’s father helped in similar proceedings more than eighty years earlier, watched intently.

“I don’t know what happened next,” said the ICE man. “I did my job and then the next guy took those people.”

“Tell me the name of the man to whom you handed over Mr. Garcia,” ordered the prosecutor.

“I don’t know his name,” said the bald man, woodenly. “I didn’t ask and he wore no identification.”

“Can you describe the person?” asked the prosecutor.

“I cannot. He was masked,” he answered.

“So, like you, Mr. Wilson,” said the prosecutor, “he was a coward as well as a thug.”

The witness and one of many co-defendants sat in silence. A long uncomfortable silence.
There had been hundreds of similar trials, both on the Potomac and in the various communities throughout the country. Somehow, we found the time and resources to honor our Constitution and provide due process to all of those charged.

Now, there were degrees of culpability and, therefore, of punishment. Millions who were merely sympathizers for the old regime basically disappeared. They were there, somewhere, but quietly ashamed and trying to come to terms with their period of anger, cruelty and, well, insanity.

Like Nazis in Germany in 1946, they were still around but they were now invisible and no longer themselves. This is what happens to cult members when the cult disappears. These MAGA people were adrift, lost, uncomfortable. They were followers without a leader.

Now they had to become complete human beings who could think, and feel, and make decisions. Slowly, on the sidelines, many of them began to re-integrate into their communities.

They were becoming their better selves.

But the guy on the stand — he wasn’t a mere cheerleader. He was an active participant who committed beatings, kidnappings and worse. He had been a menacing figure, very sure of himself and without a hint of empathy.

There was no propaganda machine to tell him what to say now. His answers were slow, unsure, halting. He was afraid but even more, he was confused.

For a few weeks and then a month or two, people were focused on the reckoning. This hit a crescendo when the orange man in the orange jumpsuit testified from inside that glass booth. The old deposed dictator’s memory was going in and out. It was a kind of anti-climax and viewers were disappointed. Ratings plummeted.
Soon enough, that guy disappeared from view and from memory, serving his term with no photos, no videos, no speeches.

People turned their attention elsewhere.

It seemed surprising how quickly the new world replaced the old and the feeling of oddness faded. People began feeling: it had always been like this. Oh, they remembered the “before” times but it felt unreal, like a bad — no, crazy! — dream.

We had similar institutions as before but they felt pro-forma. Every branch of government listened to the people, and officials were keenly aware that through nonviolent noncooperation The People could paralyze the whole country and dis-empower the government. Indeed, the example set by the American People had inspired the whole world.

Every government was humbled and learned its place: to serve The People and protect their inalienable rights.

Fascism, totalitarianism, plutocracy — that was all gone.

The world wasn’t perfect. There were still problems — big ones. Life is always a challenge — even when people are sensible and kind and free. But we were now working together to fix the damage that the old civilization had created, especially the damage to the biosphere, much of which is permanent.

By the mid-21st century, the world was (for humans) both better and worse than it had ever been. But we were no longer warring tribes. We were free and a caring community. Finally.