Last Will and Testament of Constance Madden
(typescript from the files of World-O-Salvage, unsigned)
I, Constance Madden, was born forty years ago today, July 17, 2016. The Ohm Indivisible calls this the last year of freedom. Does this mean I’ve been a slave all my life? Not really. As my mother always said, They XXXX
My father and mother died the year I turned eighteen. Both were victims of Raphael in 2034. Most of mother was retrieved from a storm surge mass over near Loup River. Father’s body was never found.
I am writing this last will and testament for myself. It is no legal document. It willl never be witnessed and notarized by the State. My purpose is strictly personal, an act of resistance. One day I will send this testament into the Ohm Stream where it will flow to other deviants like myself, us rational few.
Why don’t we just give up and believe?
If I believe in anything, I do believe in soft voices resounding. Whispers thundering.
This will and testament is not my last, even so, I want to dispense with the inheritance part. Everything I own, including this house (what we call The Old Madden Place), the Como Fish Camp, and my share of World-O-Salvage, all this goes to my daughter Alice. Good luck finding her.
Hello, Alice? If you happen to read my testament in the samizdat press, you will know my will. Come home, if you can — or want to. But if not, whisper me back.
Now, as for the testament part, where should I begin? I was there, at the courthouse in Bay St. John, when the County suspended the last public school, old Marat County Consolidated High, and turned it over to EduCom. It was a cold, snowy January day and we were still frozen from the blizzard of ’34. This was not long after Raphael and the death of my parents. The meeting of the County Board was held in a musty conference room — the courthouse roof was still under repair after the hurricane — with barely a quorum of supervisors present to ratify the transfer. A sad moment.
But I was also there for the ground-breaking ceremony for the Jimmy Carter Habitat for Sane Living. My Aunt Elly carved the statue of Jimmy and Rosalind that still stands at the entrance. Maybe that was one of the best days, when Elly unveiled the statue.
The worst day was the first time I saw a van load of slave workers being transported to work at the livestock rendering plant in Wiggins. Refugees from the war and
See the complete World-O-Salvage file being compiled at Feral Dogs of Sicily
Photograph by D Young.
Emerald Beach, Biloxi, Mississippi, 1987.