Happy Utopia Day, Joe McCarthy

Chapter 19

What did I do wrong?

-Senator Joseph McCarthy

The music stops. The dancing stops. I look around bewildered,

like everyone else.

Six skinny peach-fuzz-faced campus policemen walk in

a line under the tent. They separate and stand at attention,

remaining equidistant around the perimeter of the dance floor.

The crowd separates to allow a three-hundred-plus-pound

doughnut in a campus police uniform to jelly-roll through.

The ruddy-faced young cop walks over to me, looking at me

through round frameless spectacles that seem to grow out of

his chubby cheeks. His nametag says "Hubert Salsbury."

Pig squeals and calls of "Hueeeeey!" come from the crowd.

Hubert spins around looking for guilty faces. He speaks in

a whine, as if he's inhaled helium. "Don't piss me off. Benefit

or not, I'll stop this party now. I'll write you all up." He looks

around again. The crowd goes silent.

"Now." He turns toward me. "What do we have here?"

"Can I help you, officer?"

Hubert takes the glass from me. He sniffs it and takes a

drink. "Mmm, ATO island punch-loaded with rum."

I do not respond.

"Could I see your United States ID, sir?"

I freeze, but he doesn't press the issue. Instead he downs the

rest of my punch in one swig, and turns to the crowd. "Who

has a Big-Mac-approved national ID?" About a dozen patriotic

do-gooders raise their hands. "Two weeks! Effective by

executive decree, all citizens are required to have a Big-Macapproved

ID within two weeks."

"Bullshit!" A skinny boy with dark curly hair stands defiantly

at the tent's edge.

"Arrest that man," Hubert cries.

Two campus cops descend on the boy and roughly cuff him.

"I didn't do anything!" the boy yells. "What's the charge?"

"You're an agitator!" Hubert bellows to all who can hear.