CUE HORNS, DISTORTION LEVEL 0.86.
“Chuck and Lucy Jefferson,” the bank men call out, “Pursuant to your eviction this morning, if you do not vacate these premises within fifteen minutes, you will be placed under arrest.”
CUE STRINGS, DISTORTION LEVEL 0.71.
“Caution,” I warn them in a loud, clear voice, “you are approaching the borders of the Nation of 323 Birch Street. Upon crossing, current valid passports and entry visas must be presented immediately. Violators will be subject to immediate arrest and deportation.”
CUE VOCALS, DISTORTION LEVEL 0.94.
“Come again?” One of them says. Their confusion satisfies me for the reduced threat value it provides.
“Under the October 1968 Roughs Tower precedent of British common law,” I say, “This property meets the minimum guidelines of habitation, self-sufficiency, and vigorous defense to be accorded sovereign status upon petition. Our declaration is on file with the United Nations, the League of Secessionist States, the World Castling Authority, and the Society for Prevention of Petty Injustice. Pending judicial approval and/or de-facto recognition by three or more UN member nations within eight months, all parties are required to respect our borders under international law. Any violation will be considered an act of war.”
CUT TREBLE 4.8 dB. ENHANCE BASS 6.1 dB. CUE ORCHESTRA.
The stone lions on either side of the door come to life, their heads grinding and swiveling, diamond claws coming unsheathed, mouths opening to reveal gun muzzles. Don’t tread on me.
The bank men stand there blinking in the sunshine, completely at a loss. The police, having no instructions, do not react at all. Sensing my moment, I enhance volume again on the horn section and simultaneously swing the front door open, revealing Chuck and Lucy standing stiffly in their heavy new clothes.
“It is my honor to present,” I call out joyously, “Chuck and Lucy of the Nation of 323 Birch.”
And with the gathered instincts of a lifetime I clear the distortion, and now it is clear what song I’ve been playing. Corny, yes, but clearly and devastatingly effective, as the bank men’s faces show. My speakers boom with its closing line:
“Go-od saaaave the king and queen!”
Eventually, one of the bank men speaks up: “Very, very naughty.”
“Come off it,” the other one says. “The US has never recognized a right to secession. Civil war, buddy, civil war.”
But he retreats, along with his companion, along with the police. Dealing with this is beyond the scope of their abilities, and while others will doubtless be called in soon enough, they will be cautious, will respect my fortified borders. What choice do they have, when Chuck and Lucy must be protected and yet will not leave?
And the law is not so clearly a weapon in their arsenaclass="underline" I’ve been speaking with other castles around the city—a novel idea, to be sure—and by nightfall at least a dozen of them expect to follow in our footsteps. By morning, we hope the movement will have expanded statewide. By the end of the month, who knows?
“They could still send an army,” Chuck says. “Flatten us, dig a crater, make an example. Although the neighbors might object…”
“They certainly would,” Lucy says with a laugh as the cars pull away. She looks up into one of my cameras. “Good thing we’re not on an asteroid somewhere; nobody would complain! But who wants their neighborhood bombed or invaded just because somebody missed a payment?” She touches her belly and smiles. “Sympathy’s going to be on our side in a big way, even more so as the times get worse. People eyeing their bank balance, thinking, ‘That could be us. Next month, it could be us.’ Oh, wonderful, wonderful. You’re a very good house!”
For me, of course, the times could not be better, although the winding down of excitement has me feeling rather tired. What dreams will govern me now? Old ones, probably, until a proper software suite can be installed. But old dreams have value, too. And comfort.
“My name is Nation,” I remind her gently, and fall at once into sleep.
Editor’s Note: This story is a sequel to “The Dream of Houses,” November 1995.