Shining City On A Hill

by Jeff Baker

Doug was pushing his motor scooter upwards when he heard the voice calling from the top of the hill.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Doug looked up at Tait and grinned.

“Roaring down the hill” Doug said, patting the scooter.

“At a time like this?” Tait said, spreading his arms. “Violence? Troops in the streets? Near Civil War?”

“It’s kinda like the early part of a Doctor Who episode, isn’t it?” Doug said breathing hard as he and the scooter he was pushing reached the top of the small hill. “Makes me give that blue port-a-potty down there a second glance.”

“Yeah, but we’re not ten years old riding our bikes down this hill anymore,” Tait said.

“I know, I know,” Doug said. “That’s been, what? Thirty years ago?”

“So, what are you doing wasting your time with this now?” Tait said, sounding exasperated with his old friend. “I mean, this is no time to be doing this.”

“This is exactly the time to be doing something like this,” Doug said. “For both of us.”

“Both of us?” Tait said.

“Yeah. We’ve been writing, posting, protesting…” Doug grunted as he turned the scooter around. “We’re fighting for ordinary things, like this, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Tait said. “But…”

“But nothing.” Doug said, patting the back seat of the scooter. “Hop on. We only live once.”

The hill wasn’t very steep and in another minute the two men rode down, hollering like they were ten years old again.

And it seemed in that moment that the world waited for them.

—end—