Joe was a soldier
Joe was a soldier, and wherever two uniformed men met to kill a third man, also in a uniform, but a different uniform – they spoke of him in hushed tones. Joe made a necklace from enemies’ ears. Joe throttled them with his hands. Joe killed a tank with a Bowie knife. Joe’s hands drip blood. Joe’s soul is the color of violence. Joe eats pineapple grenades.
“War’s over, Joe,” they told him.
“Conflict never ends,” Joe said.
“What’ll you do, Joe?” they asked him.
“Everyone has a talent,” Joe said.
Joe tried public relations. Joe tried library science. Joe tried condensed matter physics. Joe looked for his niche. Joe ate the hearts of his competitors. Joe bathed in the blood of librarians. Joe did unspeakable things with an x-ray diffractometer.
Joe turned to crime, and hit up senior citizens at the mall. Their wallets were light, and they rarely fought back, but everyone has a talent.
Day came he met a man, in the mall. “You know who I am, boy?”
“Yes, sir, I know who you are,” Joe said. “You’re Karl Rove.”
Karl Rove made a deal. He would hire Joe, put him on the payroll. Every year for seven years he would deposit one million dollars in a Swiss account. He wouldn’t even ask Joe to kill anyone.
“What’s the catch?” asked Joe.
Karl Rove wanted Joe to vote Republican.
“Done,” said Joe.
“Oh, and you can’t spend more than a weekend in one place. You wear this fur coat and you don’t bathe or shave or trim your nails,” Karl Rove told him. “And don’t pray, either.”
“Why not?” asked Joe.
“It’s traditional,” said Karl Rove.
“Fair enough,” said Joe, and took the coat.
Joe moved from hotel to hotel. He spent a weekend in the Watergate, and a weekend at the Hilton, and a weekend at the Radisson. In a week he killed only four men, and he hadn’t eaten anyone’s beating heart or anything. Still, the Secret Service asked him to leave Washington, DC.
“You’re frightening the 106th Congress,” they said.
“Wouldn’t want that,” said Joe. “But I have a Silver Star. Do they know I have a Silver Star?”
“Regardless,” they said. “You understand.”
Joe went west. Joe flew to Las Vegas, first-class, and stayed a weekend at Mandalay Bay. He would have stayed a while at the Luxor, but they wouldn’t rent him a room.
“You reek, and you are covered in filth,” they said. “Please get out, before we call security. The Luxor hotel and casino reserves the right to refuse service for…”
Joe didn’t kill them. There didn’t seem to be much point.
The airlines refused to seat him after a while, and Joe went Greyhound instead. Joe went to Hollywood, and to wine country, and to Seattle. Joe moved through Montana like a wild animal, sleeping in the fields and eating birds he caught himself. The birds died easy, and Joe felt as if he was cheating.
Winter he spent in Mississippi and Arizona, and come the thaw he headed north, to New England.
“I’ve always wanted to see Old Ironsides,” Joe said, but they wouldn’t let him on board.
“No bears allowed,” they said, and pointed to a sign to that effect. “Bears are known to harbor terrorists.”
“I understand,” Joe said. “But I believe you may be thinking of lice, fleas, and ticks, not terrorists.”
Joe went to New Hampshire. He did not kill anyone. Killing seemed empty.
“It’s the Granite State,” Joe said. “What’s not to like?”
In New Hampshire Joe found a bank that would let him in and serve him. Karl Rove’s millions were, sure enough, in the offshore account. Joe had eighty thousand dollars wired to him. He kept the money in a titanium attaché case he ordered online.
“Perhaps I will buy a car,” he said. The dealerships turned him away, until he showed them the color of his money. “It is green, with red and blue highlights.”
While he looked over the different models at the dealership, Joe heard the sounds of violence: thirty ninja were assaulting the Burger King across the street. A lone cashier defended the register, awesome in her might.
After Joe killed them, he turned to the cashier. “Hello… Annie,” he said, reading from her nametag.
“A talking bear!” said Annie. In her Joe saw his one chance for redemption.
“Annie, I ask you this: help me, as I helped you,” said Joe.
“Sure thing, talking bear.”
“Vote Democratic, for I cannot.”
“But I support Nader,” Annie said. “Kerry’s a jerk.”
“I understand,” said Joe. “But I am voting for Bush, and I would like my vote to be cancelled out.”
“No, look, I mean – for one thing, where are you registered?” asked Annie.
“Alabama,” said Joe.
“See, that state’s not in contention,” said Annie. “It doesn’t matter. It’s Bush’s base.”
“Please,” said Joe.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I saved your life.”
“Not really. It was only ninja.”
“Please.”
“All right.”
“Why are you voting for Bush, anyway?”
“I promised Karl Rove.”
“You know Karl Rove?”
“Not well,” Joe answered.
Time passed. Joe purchased an SUV, with a big space in the back he could sleep in. The SUV guzzled gas, but Joe could afford it.
Joe went south. The Granite State gave way to the Empire State, then the Empire State of the South, then Alabama.
“I want to vote now,” he said.
“Bears do not vote,” they told him. He got an absentee ballot.
Time passed. Joe watched CNN. Eventually he showered and shaved and headed back to the Granite State.
Annie almost spat in his face. “I told you it wouldn’t make a difference,” she said. “I should have been in Ohio.”
“He has a mandate,” Joe said.
“More people voted against him than any other sitting president in history,” Annie said.
“More people voted for him than any other presidential candidate in the history of the United States,” Joe said. “I won’t kill them all.”
“Only enough to tip the balance our way?”
“Violence never settled anything,” said Joe.
“Maybe I should move to Montreal,” Annie said. “I don’t really feel American, especially. This isn’t my country.”
“My mother, drunk or sober,” Joe told her.
The doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Joe said.
“If it’s John Edwards,” Annie said, “tell him I’m in the shower or something.”
Karl Rove was at the door.
“I came to thank you,” Karl Rove said. “You showed me the way: buying votes for fifty thousand a pop.”
“Fifty thousand?”
“I negotiated the price down,” Karl Rove said.
Annie punched him in the face.