Stay At Home Dad 03-Father Knows Death by Jeffrey Allen Page A

easily believe someone who called the cops “pigs,” either. They’d been watching too many bad seventies movies. “Why’s that?” I asked.
    Scarecrow puffed out his chest. “We’re anti-establishment, man.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Never mind what it means,” Dorothy said. “We don’t have much time.”
    “Why not?”
    “He’s got a class at noon and I have to get to work,” she said. “I’m a server at Chili’s.”
    “Very anti-establishment,” I observed.
    “Do you know what fracking is?” Dorothy asked, undeterred by my observation.
    It was the second time in a couple of days that the term had come up. It was apparently a very hot topic and something I really needed to learn more about.
    “I know a little bit about it, but not a ton. Why?”
    “Because Rose Petal is under attack, man,” Scarecrow said.
    Dorothy nodded in agreement. “Attack is exactly the right word. They’re looking to destroy the environment.”
    “Who exactly are they ?”
    “The frackers!” she said. “The gas companies that want to drill and contaminate our water supply and our air and our food.”
    “Everything, man,” Scarecrow said, shaking his head sadly. “They want to destroy everything.”
    “There are currently six companies seeking to obtain drilling rights in Rose Petal right now,” Dorothy said. “Six. Did you know that?”
    “I did not.”
    She shook her head as if she knew I would never know that. “Six companies who want to come in here, bring their trucks in, drill massive holes in the ground, and start screwing everything up.”
    “Everything, man,” Scarecrow said again, with the same sad headshake.
    “Okay,” I asked, completely confused. “But what does this have to do with George Spellman?”
    They looked around, cautious and paranoid. Dorothy looked at Scarecrow and he finally gave a nod to her.
    “He was a part of our group,” she said, quietly.
    “Your group?”
    She nodded. “Yeah. George was in C.A.K.E. with us.”
    “Cake?”
    “C-A-K-E,” she said. “Citizens Against Killing the Environment.”

20
    Cars were beginning to stream into the parking lot, filling in the rows around us.
    “We formed C.A.K.E. about a year ago,” Dorothy explained. “We just got tired of all the abuse going on and decided to do something about it.”
    “What do you mean, abuse?”
    She shrugged. “Climate change is real, okay? If we don’t start taking steps to protect the environment, find other fuel resources, and recycle the products we use, the entire planet is endangered. And that isn’t me just spouting off. That’s a fact.” She glanced at Scarecrow. “So think globally, act locally. We decided to get a group together that would take some action and make people aware.”
    Her speech was good. I couldn’t tell if it was because it was well rehearsed or because she was well informed. I was leaning toward well informed. She seemed a bit sharper than her partner. And her alias was at least a real name.
    “What exactly do you do?” I asked.
    “We protest ,” Scarecrow said. “Man, we protest.”
    “How? Where? Who?”
    “Right now, we’re kind of a . . . loose group,” Dorothy said, adjusting her sunglasses on her nose. “Our membership is growing. We hold some information sessions about things people can do, but they aren’t well attended, to be honest. So sometimes we get together and protest. Peaceful demonstrations.”
    “How many members do you have?”
    She shuffled her feet. “About twenty. We’re trying to grow it, but it’s not easy. People either don’t want to get involved or they don’t believe.”
    I was expecting to hear that it was just her and Scarecrow, so I was actually surprised.
    “We do petitions, hold rallies, things like that, too,” Scarecrow said.
    “And George was part of your group?” I asked, a little disbelieving.
    They both nodded vigorously.
    “George was awesome,” Dorothy said, a wistful smile on her face. “He came to a