Sample from my novel The Defenseless

Chicago during the Democratic National Convention in August 1968. They appointed Hubert Humphrey. DNC in 2024 appointed Kamala Harris. Nothing has changed or improved.

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THE CITY OF CHICAGO - UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

 AUGUST 23, LATE AUGUST 1968

  Lincoln Park, this was Lincoln Park. Not now, not yet Grant Park (again). Ted blinked, and the shadows turned solid, turning into flesh and blood people, becoming real. A rush of hot air and weeks and months vanished like smoke.

  There were cops everywhere. One couldn’t possibly avoid seeing them the moment one opened one’s eyes. The presence of various security forces was probably heavier than at any time in American history, including the Civil War Washington DC scene.

  The Democratic Party National Convention 1968 was afoot, and the town was filled with protesters.

  – Can you feel it? Ted cried to Linda. – Can you feel the rush in the air, the boiling of the blood?

  – Yes, Linda cried back. – Yes.

  But she couldn’t. Not really. Not the way he could. She knew that, and that awareness would always haunt her.

  They were moving with a certain crowd within the park, people gathered there, like them to learn karate and general self-defense. There were even courses in snake dancing. One of the instructors, a tall, lean sailor type moved like lightning while demonstrating his skill. His short-term pupils looked like statues in comparison.

  – This is a very good method of knocking people’s head off, he nodded, while the assembly struggled to get their breath back, – of killing, of Death. But it’s more than that. More than anything it’s a way of Life.

  He paused a bit while letting it sink in.

  – Many don’t get that.

  Ted and Linda trained together. They knew each other so well that they could more easily avoid hitting the other while trading blows.

  – Observe, after a while how fluid your movements become, how they flow from one moment to the next. And know this: This is nothing compared to what you will sense after prolonged training.

  Linda saw how Ted formed a sentence he repeated time and time again:

  «I feel it».

  «I feel it».

  Linda echoed his sentiment and this time… this time it wasn’t pretend. She beamed at him as the exercise ended and they moved on.

  They sat down in an area called The Hill, where another statue had been raised. As they had so rightly observed earlier there was no lack of statues in Chicago parks. Not in Chicago parks either.

  – I’ve always attempted to learn various techniques, for obvious reasons. Ted no longer spoke in his usual distant manner. The eyes locked on Linda’s, burning and glowing. – But just during this first guided session I’ve gotten rid of some of the bad habits, bad moves, and the progress is tangible, isn’t it?

  – It certainly is, Linda replied, waves and the sea dancing in her blue eyes. – This feels very much like my knife juggling performance, remember? So very natural, like I was born to it.

  – I certainly do… He grinned.

  – And the awkwardness while training with others is virtually gone while I do it with you.

  Ted nodded slowly. It felt so… right.

  Not so strange really. They were twins, after all.

  We’re growing, he thought, seeing the flex of worry in her eyes. Growing at an alarming rate.

  There was snake dancing, performances, and wild abandon. The boy and the girl pulled back a little, content with enjoying the assault on the senses. A snake was rising from a basket, engulfing a woman, a tall and curvy woman. With misty eyes she did the snake dance, raising the fervor of everybody present. Linda noticed that her brother crouched a bit. When she realized what it meant, what it signified she blushed and turned away.

  Everybody had a great time, also because their reasons for coming here were generally reaffirmed, though the seriousness of it all took a backseat to what was presently happening. But Ted and Linda, perhaps because they had already seen more of life’s darker side then most adults, observed what happened beneath the surface. They easily saw the obvious. They saw police officers post 11 PM curfew signs on the trees and they had little trouble recognizing civilian cops mingling with the crowd and taking notes.

  Most people saw the signs, of course, and eventually they reacted. Groups started forming, and the heated discussion was on. It continued the rest of the day and culminated on a major meeting the next evening. Ted didn’t remember much of it later except a few words, a few faces.

  – Ultimately, no government or other person can decide where we can or cannot go. That, as it is with most things, we can only decide for ourselves.

  – That is Abbie Hoffman, one standing close to the twins whispered to a friend, – one of the head honchos.

  The Doors, the infamous rock group was in town. Their concerts fit well in with everything. Jim Morrison held one of his most memorable and controversial performances.

  – ARE YOU SLAVES OR ARE YOU ALIVE, PEOPLE? DO YOU DECIDE YOUR OWN DESTINY OR DO YOU LET OTHERS DECIDE IT FOR YOU?

  So much was happening. Everything simultaneously. The mind exploded from the bombardment directed at it. Ted and Linda had never done an LSD-trip, but the way they felt fit well with how others, more experienced hippies described it. One breath was a Universe, and no time existed within the boundary of the Sickago experience, within this human cauldron.

  And then it was two nights hence, the time a few minutes before eleven. Lincoln Park was a cauldron of heated emotions. Everybody there realized the obvious: People would not leave before the curfew. On the contrary. They deliberately defied it. The previous evening the police had attacked people attending a music festival and also a march to Conrad Hilton Hotel, the main convention center. Tension and rage shook the air, shook reality in the hot night.

  People shouted into microphones, urging those present to «hold the park».

  – DON’T LET THE PIGS TAKE THE HILL, Rennie Davis shouted wildly.

  People returned his words with cheers and raised hands.

  – There must be thousands of people here, Ted whispered in awe. – Thousands refusing to follow the edict of the establishment. Father prepared us for this, or something like this.

  The excitement in his eyes, his entire body, washed over his sister like a tall, powerful wave.

  What they had experienced in Denver seemed like a dream, a tiny wave of a distant past.

  There was singing, chanting and talking, and nothing but.

  – This is a peaceful assembly, where we are exercising our constitutional rights to gather and protest, Jerry Rubin said. – The eager servants of society won’t drive us off and we will certainly not be intimidated by them. We will stay.

  The police attacked not long after that. There was no warning, really, no clear signs of what was going to happen. Some of the protesters present in the park had certainly experienced similar actions during racial protest marches in the south or university protests, but nothing quite like this. The uniformed thugs already present came in waves, seemingly from all sides, using clubs and teargas to «disperse» the protesters. In the course of a few seconds total insanity ruled where singing had dominated a short while before. Ted heard bones break as clubs hit arms, legs and heads. He saw gushes of blood color the night red, turning it from dark, to dark red. He held onto Linda for dear life, to not lose her in the insanity progressing in Sickago. They ran and they ran, until they hardly had any breath left to run anymore. There was no way to tell whether or not anybody was actually chasing them. Police could be seen everywhere. The two half-grown human beings jumped off a height down on a concrete sidewalk. He landed okay, but she gave away a yelp of pain and would have tumbled to the ground if he hadn’t grabbed her.

  – Can you walk? He asked her, his voice raised several levels in his desperation. – Can you walk?

  – No… She whimpered and started crying. – I’m sorry, sorry, sorry.

  He put her over a shoulder and started running again, hardly noticing the extra weight.

  Running. And for a while there was nothing but the running. He ran through darkened streets, crossed where there were cars, and there might have been the banshee whining of breaks, but he couldn’t tell. He just kept running until he didn’t anymore.

  – I’m sorry. He sat on a bench with his head bowed. – I didn’t mean to shout at you. It was just… Everything was just…

  – … insane, she completed. – I know. Please don’t feel bad. Please.

  Dawn, the color of rust and blood, bringing no consolation, no comfort to the thousands of distraught souls wandering aimlessly through Chicago’s streets. Ted Cousin sought through garbage cans for breakfast and found it without having to strain that hard. His heart jumped a beat when he saw Linda sit on the bench, so alone and vulnerable. That image among many stuck in his memory forever.

  They fed greedily. He was pleased that he had thought about bringing more than he had thought they could eat, because they consumed it all, wolfed it down like wild beasts that hadn’t had anything to eat for days. This night, this night had felt like days and weeks as far as their minds were concerned, and evidently their bodies agreed.

  – This is the world, he stated solemnly. – This is the Hawkworld we live in.

  – Please don’t say that, she countered. – Please…

  One heartbeat, two, until she spoke again.

  – How do you think it makes me feel to take on the stereotype role of the typical, civilized, conditioned, overcautious human female? She exclaimed, suddenly enraged. – It isn’t fair, it isn’t…

  She hid her face in her shaking hands. They embraced and sat like that, with their arms around the other for a long time.

  At long last she smiled as she tested her injured ankle.

  – I think it is all right. She sniffed. – I can walk. There’s hardly any pain.

  And they started walking. They kept walking down the path to infamy.

  Chicago Coliseum. A rally of 4000 people. There was a lot of shouting and anger. Lincoln Park again. Night again. At precisely 11.20 PM the police once more attacked, breaking bones and chasing people off. The crowd emerged into the streets. Shouts of rage and despair filled the dark night.

  – This DOES it, a woman shouted. – I’ve had enough. I won’t take it anymore. I WON’T!

  And she grabbed a rock, a loose brick from the ground, and she threw it forcefully at the nearest streetlight. It hit the target head on and smashed the bulb, casting shadow over the crowd. The street… The boy saw it as a river, and the river was blood. A thousand years. The reign would last a thousand years.

  – I WON’T, Linda cried, picking up a brick.

  She threw it through a store display window. The glass broke into a thousand pieces. The cry of rage rose from the crowd, as they started smashing every window and streetlight in the block, and then starting on the next and the next. When the police showed up the protesters didn’t run, didn’t back down, but attacked with high-pitched snarls. It went on through the night and beyond.

  Grant Park the next day, the bandshell opposite the Hilton, early August 28^th. 15000 people gathered to hear the people on the stage. David Dellinger, Bobby Seale, Rennie Davis and Tom Hayden, four of those who would later be known as «The Chicago Eight». Abbie Hoffman had been arrested while having breakfast for having the word «fuck» written on his forehead…

  The shouts and noise slowly faded, but never faded completely, not even close to completely.

  – We’ve done nothing wrong, Bobby Seale cried. – Nothing but exercising the constitutional right and duty to protest we are given at birth as citizens of a supposedly free country. We’ve been attacked verbally for months now, through media and from fat politicians seeing their «hard won» positions threatened. And now the oppressors and their eager servants have come full circle, by attempting to break every bone in our body, in last ditch attempts to finally break our spirit. People of all colors, all «creeds» are rising up against injustice, against oppression, all over the world. We are not alone, people. Our brothers and sisters are with us… In short… pick up a gun, pull the spike from the wall, because if you pull it out and you shoot well, all I’m gonna do is pat you on the back and say: Keep on Shooting.

  The Black Panther Chairman held up a fist, and a lot of the people present, black, white, yellow or red did the same.

  – Let’s pay a visit to the fine building over there. David Dellinger bent over the microphone and raised his voice. – Where the decision-makers, the insane makers are having a fit, sweating their heart out. It’s about time.

  Well over a thousand people divided from the main body and followed up on Dellinger’s calling, and joined him on the east sidewalk on Columbus Drive on his way to the hotel. The crowd filled the sidewalk. Not long afterwards the police stopped the march. A man several policemen would later swear was Abbie Hoffman, (in spite of him being in custody at the time) instructed the crowd to disperse into units of five and ten people and then do their utmost to penetrate any shielding, any defense put up by the police or security guards, and generally do as much disruption as human possible. Then the police attacked in force and superior numbers, once more using clubs and teargas grenades. Everything turned red and gray.

  Ted and Linda had sought refuge in an abandoned building south of the park. They were both shaking in rage and turmoil raged inside of them.

  She touched his head with a shaking hand.

  – You’re injured, let me…

  – No, no, it isn’t my blood. Believe me, I can tell.

  It was all over him, forming both spots and droplets. She led a hand to her own face, and it turned bloody red. Blood, there had been blood everywhere.

  The Democratic Party nominated Hubert Humphrey as their presidential candidate. The two weary and exhausted youths heard that from two people passing them on the street later that evening.

  And that was that, for now.

  Chaos subsided, even though it lingered, and kept lingering in the air. They slept in a park, some park. It was an empty and silent park, devoid of evident life. They washed off most of the blood in a fountain, though it turned out to be impossible to remove completely at the time.

  The next morning, they didn’t even have to search garbage cans for food. They found scraps and pieces, and also steaks and cheese, and a lot more, without really looking.

  They sat down, feeding greedily.

  – There hasn’t been any lack of food for us, lately, Linda stated thoughtfully, – but I can hardly remember how often we’ve eaten. I don’t think we did eat at all yesterday, even though I can’t be certain.

  They walked back towards the park. It was on their way «home» anyway, to the hippy collective in the derelict old building. It felt like ages since they had left it, not less than a week.