My favorite reading genre is science fiction. This is just a tale of the future inspired by current events. It is written in the first person.
Red line – fortified wall between Texas and Mexico
Green line – almost impenetrable forest between Texas and The Louisiana Wasteland
Gray dotted line – new El Paso territory
It has been 15 years since Imperator Trump became leader of the New American Federation. No longer the 50 United States but some 30 disparate states, many with new boundaries and names. In 2018 we were unaware that medical and DNA facilities were collating data about our ethnicity. Under the guise of scientific advancement, the government had colluded with the data gatherers to make America as white as possible. Anyone with 85% white or Caucasian genes was reclassified as Pure Citizens. All others were no longer citizens but subjects; in a caste system. On rare occasions, subjects could pass as citizens but dare not procreate for fear of recessive genetics. The caste system is not truly based on darkness of color but your worth to this new society.
A Nigerian doctor might be part of Caste #1 but a Guatemalan farmer could be Caste #4. Many people of color fled after rezoning to Free States such as those in the Pacific West (formerly known as California, Oregon and Washington) or to other continents. Curiously, white Neo-Nazis from Northern Europe and Argentina flocked to immigrate to New America and they were welcomed by Imperator Trump. No one dare call him any other name but they can’t control our thoughts. I am now an old woman stuck in a country I despise, the country of my birth and ancestors. Despite my mixed blood, I have 85% Caucasian genes and look as fair as any Aryan. My hair is snow white, my faded dark blue eyes are cloudy and my skin as fair as milk. I am treated with veneration to my disgust; for safety I smile at all the compliments and kindness. Even monsters have some capacity for good, don’t they?
Those subjects who were unable to escape New America now live in ghettos. Some are better than others; just old suburban areas but clearly differentiated. No one from Caste #1 can marry, live or have a relationship with someone in Caste #4, for example. Two doctors of different color in Caste #1 can marry even if one is of Chinese ethnicity and the other Mexican. To the white citizens, they are all less than pure. The 85%, as we are known, live in fully armed and gated communities. A very few are similar to the Mar-a-Lago estates of the old days. Fort Trump is an example with multi-million dollar homes, gilded from top to bottom. Imperator style is ornate and gaudy; like one of Imperator Trump’s many casinos.
When the states separated, I hoped that democracy would prevail in Texas but “Make America White” struck a chord in a Republican State. El Paso had always been blue and was able to create a new territory which is governed and protected by Mexico. New Mexico, mostly Hispanic, is a Protectorate of Mexico. Oklahoma and Arkansas merged into what they once were – Indian Territories. In this strange new world, Native Americans have retained power and sovereignty but are not Citizens. Louisiana is a wasteland; devastated by flooding, hurricanes and poverty. It has become a disease ridden swamp that only Cajuns and other indigenous people can survive in.
Houston too did not survive the vagaries of the increasingly turbulent weather systems. The coastline has retreated further north and Galveston has reverted back to a sliver of sandbar. New Houston has taken the place of Austin as State Capitol. It is a grim city with no rainbows or sunshine. It is full of dangerous ghettos as is South City formerly known as San Antonio. All Spanish words are banned, so Amarillo was renamed Yellow City, a literal translation. Many times over the years I wished I had kept my Spanish maiden name but a white name kept me safe. I whisper it under my breath to remind myself of who I am.
So why didn’t I escape to Mexico or Pacific West? By the time I realized that Texas would succumb, I was a widow and too frail. I live in the Big Thicket in the same house that I always did. The forest has encroached and the roads are barely passable. The ocean is much closer than it used to be and you can smell the ozone on the breeze. Since I was stuck inside the New Federation and inconspicuous, I have secretly volunteered for the Underground Railroad. We are close to the Louisiana border and despite the danger many people are willing to brave their lives just for a chance at freedom. Small boats are guided through swamps by the Cajun Navy until they reach open water. If they are lucky a refugee rescue boat will attempt to take them to safety.
I laugh bitterly because all we used to worry about was a wall.