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    R. Eric
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That is! Sophomore Year - 86. WMNN

I would ask everyone for a moment of silence for my laptop. He just couldn't make it after the accidental drowning in tea. I got a new replacement and am having to learn his quirks. I'm imagining a bagpipe playing "Amasing Grace" as the other is released from this world to the next. Now that this one has been setup, I hope to be back on my schedule. Watch out for COVID19! He's not getting me. Don't let him get you. I love you, guys. I love you, Daniel.

WMNN

 

Easy conversation flowed at our table. We were safe in Makarovia, at least at the moment. There were no tourists yet. The people here were either locals or part of the military. Everyone knew and respected our space and didn’t approach us.

“Tomorrow night there will be some reporters that will arrive for the press conference,” Olek said smiling. “I don’t have to tell you that the news they are getting should be told by Helga and me.”

Rolph was testing the waters before he dove in, “Your Majesty, there’s more than just the fact you’re married.”

Olek nodded, “Yes.”

No one at the table had said anything about marriage. Not really. Yuri was right about the agents here. They did notice things and were smart enough to figure it out. It was all right in front of them! He, Helga, Mom, Mario, and Grandma was doing something they hadn’t done before by coming to the Grotto; Olek’s concern for Helga’s health was more than usual, and don’t forget the wedding rings. The speed of the wedding was unusual. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to put the equation together and come up with an answer that fits what they did know.

“I don’t know,” Andreea began doubtfully.

“Andreea!” Rolph said in horror.

Andreea shook her head, “There will be Makarovians that won’t like it.” Then almost a wicked smile came up, “You know you’re the subject of many daydreams and sexual fantasies.” She physically waved us off. “Now, King Olek has taken himself off the market! There will be a lot of broken hearts!” Her voice was asking why they didn’t see that.

She was right. In this country, let’s be honest, a good number of those hearts worldwide were male. Olek had been the most eligible bachelor. Now that Makarovia was known more in the world, there would be a lot of disappointment.

 

It was time to return to the palace. Rolph and Andreea would take Alec and Mercea home. Another trait for the Human Race that was universal was the departure. After a meeting, people still had things to talk about. Such as after church. The sermon ends, but it takes a few minutes for people to leave the sanctuary. And still, there was always more that needed to be said. As a child, I came to expect certain things. I was hungry at noon! Famished! In Charleston, we went to a restaurant I liked. Mammy Roberta’s. I can also say it was the first restaurant I went to. I was three months old. The restaurant was old. It opened right after World War II and the original Mammy Roberta had passed away before I was born, but made such good food. When her husband was killed in that war when the naval vessel he served on sank in the South Pacific, she made ends meet by opening the restaurant. Her two children took control after Mammy Roberta’s death.

Sorry, I did it again in chasing a rabbit that had nothing to do with our leaving.

We got into the two vehicles and started off for home. We had just started and it hit me.

“Who is telling Makarovians about what’s happening in Makarovia?” I asked. “Where do they get weather reports?” I couldn’t even remember a newspaper.

Peter’s eyes widened, “We get the news.”

I agreed, “From other countries.” I shook my head. “Local broadcasts from Ukraine, Romania, Poland, and Hungary are the closest.” I gave a wobbly, grudging nod. “Yes, there are big networks like CNN and the BBC we watch all the time. Right before we got married, they showed a lot of Makarovianon on television, the cheering crowd on the streets, and at the Grotto.”

“That was an International event,” Peter stated.

It wasn’t really anyone’s fault, but they were accustomed to being dependent on others for many things they just didn’t see a problem. “Are any of those countries on our good side?”

Peter blinked, but he thought, “We aren’t on their bad sides.”

“When Olek made the announcement to the world,” I said, “he said to everyone no one was going to take what we have.”

“He never said who!” Peter stated.

“Oh please,” I said in English. With Mario and Mom in the other vehicle, we had gone back to using Makarovian. Those two words in English conveyed the unsaid “spare me” best. “I’m not a Ukrainian, I’m descended by one. I knew who he meant. Poland allowed the Russian Military to have their exercises on their border next to us. There are others, but they knew who Olek was speaking to.” I frowned. “Olek was right to do things as he did. Going to the strongest countries that value freedom was the smart thing to do.”

“The world doesn’t need another news channel.” Peter griped.

“Screw the world!” Again said in English then back again. “I’m talking about Makarovia. What happens when there is an emergency? Mines have the alarms they sound, but when Olek the first had his heart attack...how was Makarovia informed?”

Peter thought again, “There is a radio broadcast from the palace for that. It goes to the public that way.”

“All of them,” I wanted him to say it was, but I knew it couldn’t have been. “Everyone has a radio and tuned to the station at the palace.” My tone said that was impossible to believe.

“No,” Peter said. “The community leaders have to have one. Everyone in Stryia has one, or a neighbor does.” He shrugged, “It’s pretty much the same in Skoal and Skotarskoye.”

Those were two of the largest towns outside of Stryia. Skoal was even larger now because the military from many nations was here. Skotarskoye was where the metals dug out were processed and smelted. It probably will grow even more if we put the processor for the uranium there.

I wavered a nod and said, “I keep giving advice, but I don’t know everything.”

Peter chuckled and had shock on his face. “You don’t!?” He shook his head, “So, should we get a divorce?”

Sneering at him, I said, “I told you. I’m the smartass, not you.”

Peter threw his arm around me, “The only person expecting you to know everything, is you!”

I nodded, “But I could be wrong…”

“About what!?” Peter asked. “You know a lot of the world in the West, the United States in particular. You weren’t wrong there. You do think we need a news channel.”

I shook my head, “It doesn’t have to be a whole Network or even a Channel.” I held the finger up, “But,” I grinned. “We can run a program on the Internet! I’m surprised you don’t know this. Your good buddy Ted was doing one on his computer in the seventh grade.”

“A news program!?” Peter asked, astounded.

“Yep,” I grinned, “He’s a committed journalist and always has been. He called it the Tuscaloosa Teen News and went from twelve followers that year to one hundred and twenty-three the next year.”

“He must have been good,” Peter said.

“By graduation, he was up to twenty thousand and covered four high schools,” I added. “He was a sports journalist but covered many things. He even showed clips of games he had people record. It went from a half-hour to an hour.”

“What else did he cover?”

“Current events that affected teenagers such as dances, parties thrown by students were invited to, charity programs a school would implement, unfair treatment of students by teachers, and even corruption by members of the school board.” I shrugged, “We can do that.”

“I suppose,” Peter said in a low voice. “However, the news is news. Facts are presented.”

Why was he resisting this? I looked in his eyes, “You know perfectly well that two people can tell the same story, using the same words and have two different interpretations. Explain to me the problem you think is there.”

Peter was thinking and shook his head, “No problem, but it needs more than a single person. You’ll need reporters to go to the area of events, photographers, news writers...editors!”

“Okay,” I said, “And?”

“We couldn’t hire those people by Friday.” Peter pointed out.

“We don’t have to,” I grinned looking at two passengers in the seat behind us. “Yuri,” I smiled, “you made the Duchess appear as something else. You tracked down and stopped that Baldwin bitch sending information to the Consortium.” As I said what he’d done, the smile on his face grew. “Can you tap into the television broadcast and have a computer broadcast shown there?”

Yuri thought a minute, “Well, sure. The televisions are basically monitors. All I’d have to…”

“Hold it!” I didn’t quite bark, “My head is full right now. Yes or no; can it be done?”

“Yes,” Yuri answered. “That’s easy!”

I nodded a quick nod, “Did you hear that!?” I pointed at Yuri over my shoulder with my thumb. “It’s easy!” I shook my head, “I had a friend in grade school whose mother told the best stories! She could even tell you about going to the grocery store and have you in stitches. She was so hilarious.” I raised my hand, “On the other hand, I knew someone else who would use the same words and listening to paint dry would be more exciting! It’s all in the delivery.”

Peter chuckled, “I know someone can tell me almost anything and make me laugh.” His eyebrows waggled.

I smiled back, “I don’t believe in being boring, this is more fun.” Was that another rabbit? If I stay on this trail, it will be. “My point is; depending on other countries for news or entertainment. Try as they might to be otherwise, they are often biased.” I slugged him lightly, “You know that!”

Peter looked puzzled, “You want to do it Friday?”

I shrugged, “Why not? We don’t have anything else we have to do this week.”

“Were all student parties on his show?” Peter asked, “I saw on television about teenagers and parties.”

It was my turn to back my head an inch, “Not the ones thrown by the popular kids. Those were by invitation only.” I grimaced, “I was not invited to Lisa’s, Mark’s or Donald’s parties.”

“You weren’t popular?”

“I never tried to be,” I shrugged and leaned closer as if to tell him something confidential. “I’ll be honest. It would have been nice to be asked to come.”

Peter laughed, “I’d say you had the best revenge. We had several parties. We’ve had kings, queens, princes, and heads of state...Lisa, Mark, and Donald weren’t invited.”

“I’ll be honest again,” I grinned. “I hadn’t thought about it until now.”

“Don’t you have a reunion to go to soon?” Peter asked.

“In two years,” I chuckled, “Besides, I’ll be busy that weekend.”

“You know you’ll be busy the weekend it will be two years in advance?”

“Whichever the weekend will be,” I said, “It will be after we graduate and I’ll be here!”

Peter smiled, “We have that new jet; no problem.”

I realized something and I looked at him, “You didn’t have a graduation.”

“I’m in college!”

I chuckled, “But you never got the cap and gown thing.”

He shook his head, “No, I didn’t have any of that.”

The idea of showing them up was tempting, but I know where I was and what I am, I did not achieve by doing anything to earn it. I knew a language and asked to help another student so he could pass a course. Me, too. I won’t bore you, but we didn’t really speak the language I knew but is derived from it.

Showing everyone what I had would be satisfying only for a few minutes.

Those high school rules, unwritten but there, were followed. Mark quarterback of our football team. Lisa was very pretty and had long blonde hair. She was the captain of the cheerleading squad. The rule that Mark and Lisa were to date was followed. Essentially, they were the couple to be seen with during the eleventh and twelfth grades. Many of their parties were thrown together.

Donald was almost Prince Charming. Almost. He was damned good looking and was six feet and three inches tall. That was just over one hundred and ninety centimeters! He was also on the football team, but his claim to fame wasn’t about sports. No, his claim was money. His father had a lot of money and spoiled his son and daughter. They both drove a couple of nice cars, but in our senior year, Donald drove up in a brand new white Corvette. I remember thinking, but Donald had nine to ten months left to graduate!

Grandma always told me things I valued because they always proved to be true. Those people on top of the heap had to struggle to remain on the top. “That’s exhausting.” She said. “Who are their best friends they trust and confide in?” I had no idea. No depth did I ever see from any of them.

You know me now and know I would have preferred Mark and Donald dated. Spare me the usual comments about that and losing our species. I know that. Who knew what they did in the locker room?

I’ve given that rabbit enough attention.

  

Because the Grotto was isolated in a cavern to prevent noise. It was a drive. Not a long one because Makarovia was not big. I don’t need to tell you, being in a country in the mountains you had a wandering road, do I? A road straight to the Grotto wouldn’t be that long, but this old mining road weaved a way down. It took a little time to get down safely. There were no posted speed limits. Care had to be taken not to have an accident.

A smile on my face grew as I saw the night traffic in Stryia. Even if you’ve only visited a large city, you know how bad it can be. It would be a while before we had morning or evening traffic.

We pulled into the courtyard of the palace.

It was going to be another busy day in the morning. I was getting a tour of the capital city.

Congratulations to Olek and Helga; see you in the morning for the others, we went to our rooms.

Sliding into the bed, Peter was going through in his mind.

“When we broadcast to Makarovia about Olek and Helga,” He started. “The palace will pay the people working.”

I chuckled, “Maybe the first and second one. You know what a commercial does.”

Peter nodded and then shrugged. “A Makarovian commercial.”

“Word of mouth works well,” I said. “Like the Makarovian Gourmet Coffee Shoppe. I can see a commercial about them. A shot of steaming coffee being poured as other types of coffee and beverages are poured.”

“There’s always a line at the counter now!” Peter said. “Enough people know about it now!”

“You know about supply and demand, Peter!”

He gave sort of nod and then shook his head, “I just didn’t expect...,” he looked directly at me. “This is Makarovia!”

“Yes,” I grinned. “Business is business. A few more people could be hired to handle a second line.” I gave a grunt and said, “That means they will need more supplies. If you don’t have what’s demanded you can’t supply. We’ve been to the Starbucks at the Student Union at Northeastern. You’ve seen how busy it can be. You even have that Mega-Mug!”

Peter had gotten this mug from Starbucks because he liked getting a fresh refill between classes. It was just a tad bit wider than a normal mug. Peter was thrilled when I gave it to him. It was a ceramic mug wrapped by stainless steel and insolated to keep it hot. It was three cups of coffee in that single mug. It had a no-leak, resealable lid. People complained about not fitting in their cupholder in their cars. Aw, the poor things. Peter hardly ever put his Mega-Mug down. He was an addict. I worry if he ever had to give it up. He would struggle with that one, but I would be the one to suffer.

“I can’t wait for a competitor to open,” I said.

“You love Makarovian Coffee Shoppe!”

“I do,” I agreed. “Competition can be good for business. Forcing improvements and keeps the prices under control. If I can get something better for less I’d be a fool not to go for the better offer. At this moment, how many coffee shops are there?”

Peter was getting it, “That’s the only one I know of.”

“They can open one in Skoal and the other towns and villages in Makarovia.” I stopped a second. “Where was I going?”

“Commercials?”

I brighten, “Yes, right. The commercials will pay salaries and maintain the equipment. It doesn’t have to be that one show. There could be programs for children, too. It doesn’t have to just be educational.” I rolled over on top of him. “It’s no wonder so many languages are spoken in Makarovia, to understand what’s going on in the world, you have to. When the Soviets were in control, you had Russian Channels?”

Peter chuckled, “That was before my time, but yes.”

“I’m surprised Makarovian survived,” I said. “When Russia, Ukraine or Romania had control, you had to speak Russian, Ukrainian, and Romanian.”

“Yes,” Peter said. “Dad and Grandpa made a mandate that all Makarovians spoke to other Makarovians in Makarovian.”

I smiled, “To keep what you are alive.”

Peter nodded quickly and said in English, “Damn straight!” He grinned, “We are Makarovians!”

I shook my head as I thought of smartass statements, “No, that would be too easy.”

“I look forward to showing you Stryia,” Peter said. “It’s pretty here.”

“I’m sure,” I nodded.

Peter grinned, “We can take your car.” He said, dangling that carrot of temptation in my face.

“We still have to be escorted by security.”

“Yes,” Peter nodded. “We can get by with two. Why?”

“Do you see most of our security? Have you seen my backseats?” I shook my head, “They’ll get squashed!”

Peter laughed, “It’s not that small. Yuri has ridden in it, so has Boris, they didn’t complain.”

“Would they? Even if being cramped was a problem?” I asked and answered my own question, “No.”

“I wouldn’t put Pano back there,” Peter said.

I shook my head, “That’s not even going to be considered.” I kissed him gently and sat up a bit more again. “One more question.”

Peter rolled his eyes but smiled patiently.

“We have agents in Boston,” I said. “None of them are small, but…” I began, “There is a mandatory two-year service to Makarovia. I’ve not seen every male in Makarovia, but they all aren’t as large as Mikell or Alec...Is there a height requirement?”

Peter chuckled, “If they are doing the mandatory service, not really. They are still too young. There is usually another late growth spurt in their late teens and early twenties. Yuri does prefer them to be at least one hundred and seventy-seven centimeters.”

I don’t have to remind you, I hate math. This one was easy because it was my height at five feet and ten inches. We just had to be different across the Atlantic and resisted change.

“Only thirty percent of the male population is over five feet ten inches,” I said in thought. “I wonder what the height of Makarovian men is.”

“Do you want to find out now?” He cocked his head a little. “I’m naked in bed with you and you want to measure every man in Makarovia?”

I shrugged, “I can wait.” I kissed him again. “I feel at home Peter, my home.”

Peter’s face softened and he smiled, “And last summer or the Nativity Season?”

“I was comfortable in your home,” I said. “Now, there is a comfort with that. It’s a sanctuary from the outside world. I feel safe and secure now.”

“I love you, Eric.”

I smiled. “I know. I love you, Peter.”

“I know.”

Copyright © 2017 R. Eric; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Excellent chapter! Eric wants to create a local news, information and entertainment broadcast for local stories and events. Since news and information are from foreign sources like nearly everything else in Makarovia, I can see the need for local news, weather and entertainment. I’m not certain he’s got any idea of how complicated it is to create a broadcast platform either over the airwaves or via the internet. I see the need, I hope that he can get it started. His contacts at international broadcast networks could be very helpful in getting the startup going. I’m definitely looking forward to the next chapter! 😃❤️

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P.s. : I am so sorry that you were unable to resurrect your laptop computer. May he Rest In Peace!

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