THE LAST FINAL SOLUTION
James Martin

2050 AD

I sat on my haunches with a dirty red blanket I had swiped off the old man’s body and draped it across my thin shoulders, which once carried a lot of muscle, when I was one of New York’s finest men in blue and the 26th Precinct boxing champion for three years in a row

It is a dim memory since my fall from grace: since my wife Mary left with my two kids Stephen and Susan and I hit the bottle. It was like a remake of my father who was also a Cop, but the only difference with him and me was I did not bash my wife.

He did and until I grew stronger, and put him in a coma; after I saw mum battered and bruised and bloodied with missing front teeth and when, in micro seconds of time became my downfall ,with the Bosses in the job, who loved him, and would not hear a word against him

I was done and dusted and around like an unregistered dog and became, within a short space of time, a man not to be around.

A lost man. A dirty man and soon to be an exception and having lost the lot; without means: I became another number; the lost man, living in the streets of NYC, without hope or a future.

Without any significance. I took that status somewhat: reluctantly at first, on board and shucked off my past, as easily as a man kicks a ball into long grass, which is not found until years later when someone does and proclaims..’Hey look what I found.’ And he has found my life.

The old man was my friend—everyone on the planet needs one and I am not choosey now. We shared our food and our warmth together, for five years, huddled side by side on the flat cold concrete pavements of the City, surviving those sharp winters and moved on by the men in Blue, who were once my comrades

My how the mighty have fallen. He died in one great gasp. I removed his large floppy old-fashioned trousers and pulled them over my own torn jeans.

Salt had dried on the front of the pants, due to sudden bouts of bladder release so I saved the salt crystals and wrapped them up till they dried when I would sprinkle the salt over the scraps of food which I pulled from the big industrial bin.

The Bin had been our part time shelter from the rain when we used the eight feet by six feet black plastic sheet to keep out the heavy showers. Many stories were told when we lay under the sheeting all day and night. I miss him.

Unbelievably he was once a University lecturer until another war came, as did conscription, which sucked him, and others up, just like a giant Hoover vacuum, which left him in the end, alone and bereft of help, so he retreated to the streets.

His Bible, which was inside of the old coat was dog-eared and frequently read.

I lost my faith well before his readings and did not believe in God.

A God who ought to have looked towards the poor. After his entire son, Jesus did, but that is another old story which I have some doubts about. If it is true, for God’s sake get here now and save us from this bloody misery.

The black cat crawls up and meows. I brush him away when he tries to steal my chicken bones. That is saved for tomorrow’s lunch. “Piss off cat.-- I say. And he does. He knows not to mess with me

I was still hungry and dived into the old man’s deep pockets and pulled out the tin of sardines which I knocked off yesterday from the Convenience store nearby.

I was distracted when I saw the date in bold on the clock and thought –Christ its New Years Eve where did the year ago? And also it was my wedding anniversary. Better times back then. With Mary my bride and we walked out through the guard of honor from my mates in blue.

I brushed away a tear and bumped into a female shop assistant while I was distracted. She was having a quiet puff on a cigarette (which costs an arm and a leg now.) I stared at her and she looked so much like Mary with the black hair in curls and the blue Irish eyes. But her tone was different because it was hash . Her eyes blazed when she yelled at me.

‘Thanks prick for breaking my fag. Pooh you smell. Have a wash you grot.’

My cock was raging with the thought of Mary so I dropped my pants and out it came smelly, with my uncircumcised foreskin locked tight and letting off the smell of the unwashed secretions, which permeated the air with my Willie waving about, which must have drifted into her nostrils.

She held her nose and ran off towards the toilet. I heard her reaching, so I made a hasty retreat. Back at the bin I gathered my thoughts.—Jesus now I’m a flasher.

I once hated flashers. Another thought. I have become a decadent man-just like my old drunken Uncle Rex who also lived on the streets—and died on the streets -- with T.B.

What would Mum and my kids think of me now? And with that thought I burst into tears for the rest of the night. It started to rain so I snuggled up to the cat once more and my thoughts turned to the envelope some three weeks old, which I found, dropped under the mail box.

Funny- It was addressed to me. I thought it was a joke when I first read it but on the third reading it grabbed my attention. The words held a promise for me a promise to change my life.

Dear James Martin.

“You are cordially invited to become a part of a newly formed group within the auspices of the World Government. As you have no known relative (which is imperative) you will be transported to the above address nearby at 1230hours on the third of January this year. We promise that the program we have for you and others will change your life because you will be cleaned up, fed properly and given training. The momentary rewards involved at the end of the Operation will set you up for life.”

Signed. Secretary to the World Committee.

I thought about it and concluded that it was some type of Military Operation .I had no option and death was always a prospect with the fashion in which I live. Go for broke James- I whispered. I dozed off and woke up. I went back to sleep again for two days and woke up on the third of January at exactly at 12.20hours.I stood and brushed away the puddles of a couple of days of urine. I was also constipated as well- take a shit later I thought.-

I shook myself like an old dog pushing away raindrops and then vertigo overcame me. I lie down and saw a strange blue light hovering above my head and I felt warmth from it: I remembered my mum’s lavender and roses perfume and the house filled with garlic and tomatoes making the taste buds tangible.

Tears came into my eyes. And washed my cheeks; then I fell asleep and dreamed of women massaging my body in a bath filled with lavender oils. I looked in a full length mirror nearby and saw my back was shimmering with silver and gold .I yelled in my dream ’Is this real.’ And I heard no more.

However, a Committee comprising of Scientists stared at James and the forty nine other people who had been selected.Fortynine other people from many races who also had no ties of known relatives.

Fifty people who were expendable and no questions would be asked if the experiment of TELEPORTATION failed –Brian who was the Surgeon in charge was against killing and had devised a thought machine which would turn evil thoughts inward thereby disabling the evil in the world yet he knew in his heart he had an uphill battle to install the program.

Yet James knew he was chosen out of a lot of scientists because of his amiable way with people. Funny how the Leaders really want people who are robots when it suits them and a Lot of the robot like people working in Admin cared not for anyone and these were his assumptions and they rattled around in his head when he would confide with close friends.” His thoughts found words, which he repeated, to himself.

‘They were typical of a raised generation who never had any focal point like a conscience from God. I am not religious but I reckon the Churches people do a better job then these soulless people I see dotted through the Government.’ In addition, he would add as well. ‘The Salvos still exist without wages helping the poor.’ .

I do not see the robots who after all are just blips from a past of serfdom and treat people who have not climbed the ladder of success. Perhaps fallen down.

Insignificant and as sure as the muse made little green apples that lot are staring in the face of a revolution if they do not change their snobby idea ′ and finally he would conclude his tirade with.

‘Insignificant people have turned out to be serial killers over the years. Look at Adolf Hitler what a case for a couch he turned out to be and a pedophile to boot, as well.’ and his friends never challenged his strong views because they knew he was right but were like the majority who kept their views to themselves. .

“We have it within our power to build the world anew”

Thomas Paine

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