“How’s it going, Dad?” Juan’s son, Carlos, was calling him from his military base.
“Things are OK, mijo,” Juan sighed involuntarily. He tried to keep this rare phone call with his son upbeat. “Your mother and I are looking forward to your visit,” Juan answered. You’ve been gone too long.”
Juan’s comment made Carlos pause, “What’s the matter, Dad?”
“Nothing,” Juan lied. Then he added, “It’s just business.”
“I’ve heard it’s bad,” Carlos said. “We got a briefing about the possibility of civil unrest in the event this turns into another Great Depression.”
His comment alarmed Juan, “Would they call you up for something like that?”
“No Dad,” Carlos chuckled, somewhat awkwardly. “I’m an active-duty Marine. We don’t do CONUS stuff.” The acronym stood for the Continental United States. The Posse Comitatus Act prevents active-duty troops from conducting operations on US soil.
“Then I’m glad you’re in the military. When does your plane land?” Juan wanted to know. “I’ll pick you up.”
There was a noise on the phone that sounded like clicking on a computer keyboard, “My flight itinerary has me wheels down at Sky Harbor at 15:30 on December 15th,” Carlos said. “I’ll be home for Christmas.”
They spoke for a little while longer until Carlos had to go, “Hey Dad?”
“What?”
“Are you guys going to be all right?” Carlos asked. “Do you need money or anything?”
“No!” Juan snapped, much more angrily than he’d intended. But the question had caught him off guard. When did my little boy start worrying about my business? Juan wondered. “We’re doing fine. You don’t worry about us, OK?”
“OK.” Carlos sounded chastised.
Once again, Juan tried to liven the conversation, “Hey, did you register to vote?”
“Eh,” Carlos sounded disinterested. “They sent us some things to fill out for absentee ballots…”
“Be sure to fill that out, mijo.” Juan felt most comfortable talking to his son when he was instructing him about his responsibilities. “It’s important to get Trump re-elected. He’s gonna fix the economy.”
Carlos was silent for a long time, “Well, it would be good to have a real Commander-in-Chief again. But do you think voting really makes any difference?”
“Yes!” Juan grimaced. This was the second time he’d snapped at Carlos on this call.
Carlos became defensive, “I mean, it’s all corrupt. Don’t you think the Democrats are just going to steal it again?”
Juan took a deep, slow breath, “It’s important, mijo. I even signed up to help with the elections this year.”
“You did?” Carlos was genuinely surprised. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m driving truck for their warehouse,” Juan explained.
“Really? That’s cool.” Carlos sounded impressed.
That pleased Juan, “Yeah. It’s important. Make sure you vote.”
“OK Dad, I will. Give my love to Mom,” Carlos said, and they hung up.