Reboot

While we were grindingly practicing for the race, our Marshall showed up. The people didn’t quite know what to make of these officials yet because their responsibilities weren’t clear. We didn’t know how to act around him, so we watched and waited. He was an unlikely fellow. He didn’t seem to fit the job. He looked like a librarian, or a desk clerk at some large bureaucratic paperpusher’s wet dream. Short, rotund, humpty dumptyish with one of those tiny round bellies, like a cartoon, wearing little round glasses. Sweaty. Doc Holiday he weren’t.

He was congenial. He asked a seemingly random set of questions to anyone who happened to be near him. In fact, he spent all his time walking around talking to people. He didn’t seem to have an agenda. But he was very curious. About everything. He didn’t say much about his job, just saying that it was “in progress”. For now, he was just supposed to watch, get to know people and be the link between them and their government. He came up to me one day.

“Hi.”

“Hello. I’m Trek. I’ll be representing Cotton Grove in the race.”

“Really? That’s great. My name is Colby. Burt Colby. Nice to meet you Trek. Driver eh? Wow, sounds interesting. When did you start driving?” He was overly jovial. Like a chubby leprechaun. Every answer to any of his questions led to a smile.

“Not long ago. I just thought it would be fun. I don’t think any of the drivers are pros. But I’m sure they’re all very good.”

“No doubt. No doubt. So you were born here? This is your hometown?”

No, no, like many others, I wandered in later. I’m from LA. But I was lucky enough to be visiting friends in Veneta when the bombs dropped.”

“Veneta.” He looked doubtful.

“Yes.”

“Alright then. Hey, can you tell me if you’ve heard of a guy called Robert Morgan?

“You mean the one who sent out this radio message?”

“Yes.”

“No I haven’t. What do you want with him?”

“Just want to talk. Curious you know. Nothing to worry about.”

“Is he in trouble?” I asked.

He took a more somber attitude to answer that question. “Well let’s see. I’d like to get to the bottom of this proof he talks about, wouldn’t you? If the proof is bogus, then yes, of course he’s in trouble.”

“Yes sir, that makes sense. Well I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

“Ok then, good luck with the race, I’ll be pulling for you.” He smiled a wet one. Just the bottom of his face though. His eyes never changed.

“Hey Mr. Colby, what if the proof is solid?”

“Not my place to say, is it young man.”

“Well I don’t know about that. Aren’t you the government rep for this area?”

“Yes,” he said warily.

“Well it seems to me that people will want something from you sir. Maybe information about when the next elections might be? That kind of thing.”

“I haven’t been told about that yet.”

“Of course, of course… Well I’m sure you’ll let us know when you do, right? Nice to meet you M. Colby.” And I waved and left. That was silly. I’d just brought attention to myself, but I couldn’t help it. Some of the smug needed to come off of that guy.

He started walking off but then did the ol’ detective show double take and turned around one last time.

“Trek isn’t your real name is it though of course?”

“No it isn’t.” I left that hanging.

“Talk to you later…. Trek.” He threatened with a smile.

I didn’t smile. Maybe this man wasn’t such a fool after all. I ran off to work on my story a bit more.