Liberty or Death: Odyssey

[Minuteman75]

March 8, 1937, Monday​

New York City, New York, USA

Nineteen years has passed since Great War ended in a costly draw. Having remained neutral the United States avoided the global conflict. However, to its economic ties with the Allies the country suffered financially. Despite recovering for a time during the Roaring Twenties the nation then suffers the disaster of the Great Depression. Taking advantage of the chaos and desperation all around them, radical parties and paramilitary factions swell in greater numbers than ever before. Chief among them is the fascist group known as the Grand Union Party or Iron Eagles led by their charismatic and ambitious leader Albert Thorne.

Despite making a strong showing in the 1936 presidential election Thorne loses to (Democrat-Republican) coalition candidate Marcus Reynolds. Openly disputing the election results, the Iron Eagles secretly prepares for war.​

“For the last time my answer is no!”

Shouted a fat old shopkeeper before slamming the back door behind him to an alleyway. In front of a young man winced as it happened. Sighing he muttered in Tagalog while rubbing the side of his neck with the left hand. “Mahusay na could ve na maigi.” Of course, in the back of his mind Benjie Delfino knew by now this was to be expected.

Concluding it was useless to stand there any further Benjie turned around and walked away. Back to the streets again. The thought frustrated the twenty-year-old Filipino as he made way toward an exit out of the alleyway. For more than a week he had been trying to find respectable work in the city but to no avail. Frowning at himself but not saying anything Ben stepped on a white cat by its tail.

Screeching in pain the feline ran off in the opposite way as the surprised young man looked on.

“Pasensya na tungkol doon.” He called out in apology.

While some would find the concept of apologizing to a homeless stray rather strange or just plain dumb but Ben didn’t care. Looking down at his dirt stained shoes he wondered for the thousandth time. How the hell am I going to find work in a place like this?

Resuming his walk Benjie finally came out of the alleyway unto a sidewalk flooded with people going about their night more or less. Taking a right turn the Filipino found himself swept among the masses. Wearing a gray work shirt with blue denim overalls and a newsboy cap one wouldn’t think Ben wouldn’t stand out much.

Of course, resentful eyes from many followed him with each step along muttered words of contempt. It was another bitter reminder to Ben that his Asian features marked him as an outsider here. Pretending not to notice the twenty-year-old forced himself to look straight ahead, searching for the next street.

Maybe, I could try my luck in Harlem. It’s better than sitting on my ass if nothing else.

Despite having been born and raised in a poor fishing village Benjie was no stranger to big cities. Living in Manila for a few years prior coming to the States had given him a taste of the urban life. Although New York City felt vastly different in comparison to his nation’s capital. Shivering slightly during the walk the Islander thought.

The weather is certainly cooler than back home.

It wasn’t just the weather that was alien to Ben. Even though he had struggled in Manila, the young man had at least family and friends there for support. Sure there was a small Filipino community here but Ben didn’t know anyone personally among them.

Well, that’s the price for going to another land, especially one so far away.

The US ruled his homeland for more than three decades but as of 1935 it was given a new form of self-government in preparation for eventual independence.

Off the sidewalk to the right-hand side automobiles of various designs drove by another in a seemingly never ending line. Noticing it during his brisk walk Ben smirked briefly, especially at a
1937 Ford Covertible parked opposite of him. It’s amazing how many cars and trucks available he thought.

Wouldn’t mind driving a nice car myself. Of course, given the hard times and often hostile attitude toward anyone not white the young Filipino knew his chances of buying such a vehicle at fair price very, slim.

Beside they would probably assume I stole it and beat the hell outta me anyway even if I prove to be the legal owner. That’s what happened to cousin Marcelino in California last year.

Choosing not to dwell the uncomfortable subject further Ben looked away from the bustling traffic filled street. Keeping both hands in his pockets the twenty-year-old was about to turn the next corner...

@The Captain

Theme

 

[The Captain]

Douglas rifled through his pockets, muttering bitterly to himself as the cheap cigarette hung loosely from his chapped, cracked lips. He knew he had matches on him somewhere, but for the life of him he couldn't remember where. It would figure if he left his matches on nightstand back in Brooklyn, this wouldn't be the first time he left something important in the wrong borough.

Thankfully, he managed to fish the battered matchbox, burlesque cover and all, out of his jacket pocket. He found two matches inside and struck one up, raising it slowly to his face. Only for some bum to run into him and knock both his cigarette and his match from his hands. The only thing that spared the offending pedestrian from a broken nose was the fact he was moving so fast, and Douglas quickly lost him in the crowd.

Why was it always crowded on the streets? It was March, New York was so cold the butchers left their meet packed in snow on the curb, and yet ever sidewalk was packed street to walls with pedestrians. So he just vented his impotent rage by muttering obscenities under his breath.

That was his last cigarette, and his second to last match. With the turmoil going on, the Devils were slowing down and waiting to see what happened next. A lot of old Irish blood in the Kitchen, they'd seen the NINA signs on shops growing up, and many were worried about the new party in charge sending the paddy wagons out to round them all up. Douglas was more concerned about where his next buck would come from.

As if one cue, his next bout of bad luck struck when he rounded the corner into...what was this guy? Hawaiian? Douglas didn't much know or care, he just knew he'd bumped into the little runt and he hadn't rushed out of beating range yet.

"Watch where yer goin' you little punk!" He barked at the stranger, glaring daggers at him from under his cap.

@Minuteman75