Seeds of Change

Chapter One

A New Day

Dawn was cresting the eastern range with the soft grey hues of early light. The horizon: a strange contrast of dark shadowed mountains, painted against the silver-blue backdrop of atmosphere, suddenly ripped in-two by the tattered glow of the sun breaking the jagged peaks of the Sierras. Fall here — is an almost unnoticed shift in the seasons as the first rays of morn cascaded down the slopes, highlighting the dark green leaves of the aging scrub-oaks and the scattered pines blanketing the golden sun-scorched grass that seem to clash with the word home — and a heart’s desire for peace.

Back in the Midwest, October is marked by a shift in colors that spark hope and anticipation but here in California,—— the subtle difference creeps in — only noticed as the days grow shorter and cooler and hope seems lost in the dashed dreams of failure and ruin when winter finally takes hold. Escape ——— cries out as a refuge on the lonely game trail weaving through the brush but a shotgun and an overpriced hunting license is just the façade of freedom in a system stealing the “Pursuit of Happiness,” like the talons of an eagle plucking a wild trout from the river to guarantee its survival,— of course, at the cost of another’s soul: after all,— it’s only prey. One-by-one we gather like schools of trout only to fall helpless to the clutches of those with oversight, whom trust in our complacency — as we simply hold against the current, waiting for our next tidbit to float by.

The clicks and chirps ahead mark the game as near. Hunted becoming the hunter? Is taking up arms to shoot dinner a feeble grasp, — reaching for power; or more simply the dire attempt at self-mediation to temporarily hide indentured servitude to a government as foreign to freedom as the cage holding back a tiger at the zoo?

Here,— in the solitude of nature, the mind should clear and thoughts should focus on the task-at-hand; but the reality is our distant relatives, whom foraged to guarantee their very existence is but a lost truth, hidden in deleted memories of sacrifice, which truly teach the meaning of life.

The quail flush but I am so lost to thought: — the burst of escape does little to stir purpose within me,— the shotgun lifts to the shoulder mechanically; but too late, to click off the safety as the quail disappear in the thickly matted woodland.

“Why am I here?” as my barrel drops to a rest, the muzzle pointing to the ground, “…To dust you will return.”

The quail chose life.— And I wonder, where do I stand? …

How do you explain to your most significant other the misunderstandings when doubt supersedes faith?

My life was turned upside down five years ago with two FBI agents and a knock at the door. Kathryn was coming down the stairs with her bright morning smile as I returned the same glance over my shoulder, while unlocking the deadbolt and turning the knob and slightly opened the door a crack to peek out.

Mr. Bere? Asked two agents flashing identification. “My name is Special Agent Grant of the FBI,” stated a man in the cheap, dark-blue polyester sports jacket and a no nonsense smirk; then with a head tilt to his partner he added. “And this is Agent Lee. We’ve been sent to escort you downtown for questioning.”

“What is this in regards to agent?”

“It’s best if you just come with us.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Are you unwilling to cooperate, Mr. Bere?” the woman in matching attire asked as both agents put their identification away.

Kathryn’s hand covered mine, pulling open the door. “I demand to know what this is about before my husband goes anywhere with you.”

My wife could be a real bulldog when pushed, but these agents meant business.

Shock and awe, — meant to intimidate and humiliate, — yanked me from the threshold of my home. Agent Grant's vice-grip-pull on my wrist with a twist, forced my leg to post for balance on the porch as his right hand locked onto the back of my neck and his right knee took out my posted leg, dropping me to my knees with a painful thud. I was helpless and cuffed.

“Mr. Bere, you are under arrest for known ties to a terrorist cell and under the provision of the …”

Terrorist? At that point, it was a total blur. How quickly a happy life can be turned upside down. I glanced back at my wife and what I saw was fear. But with her hand covering her mouth and her silence, I knew that fear was doubt...