Walking Dollar Bills

Chapter 29: "The Great Leap Forward"

The fourth ring of the Benevolent district is a bustling entertainment hub. The desert streets are lined by both magnificent and large department stores that challenge the skies for supremacy and independent vendors, who stroll around with carts or food trucks. Tiny boutiques fight for customers, while hundreds of people purchase space in large lots to conduct yard sales of items they no longer need.

For five days a week, the fourth ring resembles a ghost mall. Most merchants calculate their debit and credit balances in their general ledgers. This must be done immediately after the weekend because Dictator Beneficence sends government employees to collect profit data on Monday. Thus, the vendors dedicate Tuesday to inventory, Wednesday to purchasing and receiving goods, Thursday to stocking and advertising, and Friday to preparing for the weekend.

Hence, the merchants who occupy the fourth ring live their lives on a tight schedule. While they gross the third highest annual income after soldiers and government employees, they lack the "down time" that comes with those jobs in the third and second ring. For this reason, most vendors are crabby and cantankerous. They demand their cash up front and are quick to alert a soldier if they suspect a customer of foul play.

But, some suspect that the merchants and vendors are simply suffering from depression. Their depression stems from watching people have the time of their lives every weekend, while they are unable to partake in the festivities. These people exist to please—never to be pleasured.

If the factory workers represent the backbone of Mao country, then the merchants represent the heart of Mao country. They are responsible for keeping the people happy. Whether through circuses, exotic opioids and drinks, luxury goods, or other forms of entertainment, it is vital that the fourth ring supplies the happiness and stimulates the smiles.

The desert sun torments the sand with its heat. The sand returns the favor by burning the bottom of people's feet, who walk on top of it. But, the heat from the ground fails to match the heat radiating from the hearts of the people determined to enjoy their weekend away from labor and with entertainment.

Byrd turns her knife sideways and slices a boiled egg down the middle. Tiny crumbs from the fluffy yellow yolk fall onto her white plate. Amara sits across from her and stares down into a cup of water with chunks of ice cubes inside.

"I seriously don't think I can eat any more. You want it?" asks Byrd.

Byrd eagerly awaits Amara's verbal response, but Amara simply sighs and shakes her head. Recently, Amara has been keeping to herself. Byrd knows it is because of Orlando's news that insinuates that Zala is dead.

"Maybe just half? Amara, you should eat something, please" says Byrd.

"Why won't you listen to me! That could have been your father out there! Don't you care at all" yells a voice from outside the restaurant.

Byrd and Amara face the direction the noise comes from. Outside, Orlando argues with two middle-aged men standing beside a food truck. While Orlando expresses worry, the men express indifference. One of the men opens the front door of the food truck and climbs inside,

"Sorry pal, but it's just rumors. You should get out of here. People work hard all week, and don't need you ruining their weekend with your childish talks of 'revolution.'"

The second man hops inside and shuts the door. Orlando grits his teeth as the food truck swerves around him and speeds off. With a sunken expression, Orlando prepares to walk away, but the sound of someone banging glass gets his attention. He sees Byrd and rushes over to the restaurant. Inside, he grabs a seat beside Amara.

"You're supposed to be working" says Orlando teasingly.

"We decided to take a break," Byrd rests her hand on her cheek, "My brother had a great idea, but it's not working out so well. We're supposed to get in touch with the citizenry. Like talk to people and make connections. Get them to support our cause. But, everyone seems so pessimistic."