2065: A Forecast

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INTRODUCTION: All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book or parts thereof in any form. This book is a work of Historical Fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, it might be coincidental. There will be occasionally the mention of a real person whether still alive or not, but it will be done only when the story requires it, for in this book appears fictional characters and historic figures past and present and non-historic figures as well.  Reference to real people, events, establishments, organizations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, thus these later ones are not just fictitious in many cases, but real. “2065: A Forecast” is a work in progress, in other words: In Real Time. Its completion and publishing time is up to its author. In the meantime, everyone is welcome to read and witness the writing of a book, again, in Real Time, a task never attempted before. Past true History at its best plus History in the making as it occurs, not given preferential treatment to any side of the many Aisles throughout the ages, whether religious, royal or political. Equanimity is what is pursued here, a quality always absent everywhere and all of the time, past and present, Equanimity that is/.

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 2065: A Forecast: A Historical Fiction, Author Unknown.

[Main Characters: Anacleto A. Busch-Hidalgo, Marisol Angulo Granados, Otto Busch Jones, Marcelino Angulo Castañeda, Rosario Granados de Burgos, Isabel Hidalgo Parasol]

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CHAPTER 1: Part #1

January 20, 2065/. The sky was blue, not even a cloud, and even if it was cold, it was very pleasant, for the Sun shined without interruption, warming the windless day and the thousands of people to witness “The Great Transition” in the Capital of the Nation. Soon will be noon ET (1600 GMT), the hour chosen by the Good Governance for the Inauguration. It was like a beautiful and perfect Spring Day in the middle of Winter. But do not let me get too much ahead of other Historic occurrences of the last 40 years of importance, one of them being “The Great Transition”. I’m known as Anacleto and that is my first name. I was born January 20, 2025, so if you do the math: Eureka it is my birthday!  My complete name is Anacleto A. Busch-Hidalgo.

This very same city is where I was born and grew up and attended school, college and university. I graduated as a journalist, a major not so popular now days simply because there were not so many jobs as such. Most of the so called “Major Newspapers” have disappeared, the also so-called Nationals, they just departed, like in dead, they died slowly but surely. My personal take is that there was not much bad news left to report or wars and other unpleasant and undesirable news consumed readily by a great number of people for whatever morbid reason, plus for years “Major Newspapers” have abused the trust of their readers. In other words, they were lying most of the time and spinning up the news the rest of the time, they were just like professional politicians back then, hoaxes were the norm, they make money, lots on money, hoaxes that is. Hoaxes were placed in 'Vogue' by the infamous last president (he hired small building contractors and then didn’t pay them), 'Trumpetilla' (Think of a 'Gasparrilla' but full of gas), of the previous “Corrupted Political System” that lasted 250 years.

The heck with it, can’t wait to tell you! This year celebration of “The Great Transition” of the Inauguration has dual significance, of great and lasting significance: Thirty years ago, Capitol Hill was not reformed, reformations never worked, it was reduced the number to 200 in the House of Representatives. Each State, 50 altogether, were divided in four districts, North, South, East and West, one for each district. Oh, I almost forgot it: The Senate was abolished for good! It was decided in 2035 that the least number of persons on top will result in the best governance, and the smaller the budget that ultimately comes out of the taxpayers' pocket will be also 'good'; all 'good' and simple formulas for the 'good' of everyone in the Nation. I do like the word ''good'' more and more each passing day!

 I’m a history 'forofo/buff', main you, not interested in sports. When I come across a pivotal moment in History and its good ramifications, it makes me wanna (Shout), throw my hands up and (Shout), come on now y'all (Shout)! Can y’all tell I love music too?

I’m on a quest, an endeavor for the last few years, actually soon after my loving wife departed in 2059 and consequently becoming widower and more sadly without any children. A childless widower: Could it reside more sadness in somebody than to lose your dear wife and end up alone and being a childless widower? I don’t think so! Ask otherwise a childless widower.

The phone rang on the wall of the hallway between the living room and the kitchen. We only had that phone in the house, a line phone, a two bedrooms third floor apartment, ''Yes''. ''Come over to the store whenever you can, darling. No rush. I would like you to see this bundle of letters tied neatly with a red ribbon I found in this box''. She didn’t need to tell who she was. Her sweet voice, like a 'ruiseñor anunciando la alegria de vivir', was unmistakable to my ears, just like a beautiful piece of music. ''I’ll be down there, darling you''.  The store was not too far, just two floors down in the same building, a three-story building owned by Marisol’s parents in the neighborhood of Georgetown in Washington D.C. We lived on the third floor, and I still do, and her parents on the second floor. The store was, still does, at the street level.

Marisol placed the storage file box on a table. In front of the box was written in black letters Carolina …, the following letter of letters after Carolina had been erased. ''Strange, isn’t it?'' ''Why?'', I replied. ''There must be a reason why they were erased, wouldn’t you say Anacleto?'' ''Well, yeah, but the reason might be or not important, there are several things in the box besides the Bundle of Letters.''  They were also some pictures, postcards from Sevilla and Burgos in a small separate bundle with many other postcards dated from 2023-2024 plus a few from 2025 and other years closed to those mentioned. Those years postcards were rather valuable in comparison to any other years now days, in 2065. One of the cards, dated 1/21/2025, was addressed to a Mosca from someone named Felix sent from Seville to … Carolina, U.S.A., again erased. The text read ''Who controls the present controls the past and who controls the past controls the future'', it is the moment in time, Mosca, to exercise fully what freedom we still have left in America and promote the 'Luck of the Draw Election System', before is too late!

 ''There you have it'' ''What’s that, Anacleto'' ''Elementary, dear Marisol. You have said it many times that the responsible person or persons that created or put together and promoted it, the 'Luck of the Draw Election System' in the early 2020s made sure that stayed under the radar, incognito, unknown even until now, 2059, a real mystery! ''You seem to be correct, but the question is: Why.'' ''Well that is your prerogative 'Solete' to continue the investigation, you’re the one that majored in History and have placed the burden over your shoulders of identified the author or authors of the utmost important development for the cause of Freedom, People’s freedom around the World, of the last 50 centuries making it possible a 'Brave New World' for the good of all. One thing I want to repeat to you if I may add, do not overdue.'' ''Well, regardless of anything and everything, my dear husband and best friend, remember: For good or bad till death do us part. I want that you extend your part on that promise.'' ''What’s that?'' ''I earnestly desire that you continue the search, the investigation of who were they, the responsible for such wonderful treaty that still on track after all these years:  The 'Luck of the Draw Election System'.'' ''Rest assured my 'Solete' that I will, I promise!'' There were reasons why I ask her not to overdue, mainly a minor 'derrame cerebral' she suffered in 2054 that kept the right part of her lip lower than the rest. Fantastically, a word used by her father frequently, he is a musician, Cello player and a very good one may I add, she totally recovered, but still under rigorous medical supervision since then.

Don Marcelino was getting the National Symphony Orchestra ready, he had accepted the direction of it for just that day, the Inauguration of the new President, the day that was recognize, every 5 years, in the Nation and around the World as the “The Great Transition” Day, this last one being January 20, 2065. Though it was a remarkable day for Winter with clear skies and lots of sunshine, my true 'sol' wasn’t shining, my 'Solete', my Marisol. She would have been 40 years young, just like me, we both were born in 2025. Don Marcelino looked at me with an indescribable smile, he missed Marisol too, his beloved daughter. Beethoven 9 - Ode of Joy – Himno a la Alegría erupted and the million or so erupted singing also in German, Spanish, Italian and other languages as a mosaic of musical notes of all colors. One note was missing, Marisol, 'Solete' my Sol, making my eyes ready to shed 'lágrimas' on my lap as I listened to the symphony, one of her favorites. As I was sitting in my chair not too far from my father-in-law, Don Marcelino, I turned my hands looking at its palms, they were empty when in countless occasion were filled with her on hands. My hands missed the warm Marisol’s hands, my heart too, my soul too, they were all empty, my whole body was empty. As I was hearing the beautiful sound of music, Beethoven 9th emanating a myriad of pure water from a spring in its way to the open arms of the Ocean. It is a blessing that music is invisible and proves that music was started up above the sky, in the heavens.

I went to the airport early in the day in my way to Los Angeles to participate in a three-day Journalist summit from around the World. Marisol wanted to take me, but I dissuaded her, it was too early and she herself had a busy day in front of her. Instead, I called a taxi. I left when she was still asleep kissing her forehead. It was the morning of September first, 2059. and the last time I saw her alive, breathing in her sleep peacefully like an angel. Heaven’s took her away from me.  I called her the very next day at 12:30 in the afternoon to the shop from the lobby of the hotel where I was staying and where the Journalistic Conference was taking place. When I was out of the Washington D.C. area, 12:30 in the afternoon was the best time to call her, because by 1:00 Marisol closed the store for lunch and 'siesta' and then open again at 4:00 o’clock. She was rearranging, again, some areas of the shop and sounded jovial and in high spirits. The next day, September third, was the darkest day of my life, still is.

I called Marisol the next day from the same place at the same time and the phone was pick up after the first ring and without waiting y said: ''Hello, my 'Solete', how are you?'' After a silent moment that seemed to me like an eternity, a voice, that I recognized immediately, answer me: ''Anacleto, is me, Rosario, Marisol is not here and…'' I interrupted her, sensing that not all was right, the way it’s supposed to be: ''Where, then is she?'' ''The shop was not opened today… I must tell you the worst news a mother has to announce… Marisol is gone, she has departed… she is no longer with us… she passed away last night… apparently she passed away in her sleep, peacefully I truly believe, Anacleto.'' ''I’ll take the next fly back home.'' And with that I hang up the phone. Seven hours later I was at home. There was no one so I went one floor up to my parents-in-law apartment. I knocked at the door and Doña Rosario opened and immediately went inside and got next to Don Marcelino, I went inside as well and the three embraced at the same time with me in the middle. I said with a hoarse voice and wet eyes: ''I’m so very sorry Doña Rosario for the abrupt phone call ending early this afternoon from L.A., I’m selfish.'' ''No digas eso, Anacleto, why would you say something like that?'' ''I thought at that very moment about my own sorrow forgetting about yours and Marcelino’s, your precious daughter Marisol, your only daughter.'' ''Never mind, 'me hijo' Anacleto, or have forgotten what we said to Marisol and you in your wedding day almost nine years ago, December 1, 2051…'' ''You remember, don’t you Anacleto?'' ''Yes, Don Marcelino, we do not lose a daughter, we win a son.'' ''That’s who you are for us, yes we both of us lost a daughter last night but we still have a son and it happens that his name is Anacleto A. Busch-Hidalgo, or don’t you know?'' The three of us smiled to each other.

Since Marisol had the 'minor stroke' and when I was away Doña Rosario stayed with her overnights in our apartment, nonetheless, in the still of the night she was taken away in silence, not a sound, according to my mother-in-law, that how she found my dear wife early in the morning, eyes closed with a semi-smile in her face. According with her doctor she had a 'massive stroke' and a non-invasive postmortem examination done that consisted of a very advance MRI and a very small incision in an area of the abdomen to abstract some body fluids and send to a lab confirm it. The lab text found no foreign substances as drugs, just the medication prescribe by her doctor after her minor stroke. The Death Certificate was simple: Death by a Massive Stroke. Three days after her passing away she was buried in a cemetery close by her beloved shop. I was surprise the amount of people present at the burial. Besides friend and family there were quite many of her shop clients and one of them being the Mayor of Washington D.C., they both loved history, Marisol and the Mayor. I gave a simple eulogy just like she would have wanted. Keep it always simple Anacleto, she liked to tell me when I opened my mouth to say something.

My eulogy to the Sol of Soles, my Solete, my Marisol: ''Is that all there is? What would I do without you, Marisol. You were the sunrise, and I was the rain'' Have you ever seen the rain dancing on a sunny day, my friends? She was my rainbow in the darkest days and the sunshine of my life. She was an upbeat person, but reality played a significant role in her life, that’s why ''ashes to ashes, dust to dust'' was a phrase she commonly used, and in the shop she had a place behind the counter on the wall a sign that read in Spanish and in English “Todo va a un mismo lugar; todo es hecho del polvo, y todo volverá al polvo/All go unto one place; all are of dust, and all turn to dust again.” I brought some ashes from our fireplace, so here you go Marisol, and I cast them into the grave.

We, the three of us, were back at home from the cemetery, Don Marcelino and Doña Rosario to the second floor of the three-story building and I to the third floor of my empty apartment. In our way back silence reigned among us. Here I was, alone 'en la penumbra' of my home. But wait, I said to myself, someone else is not here, and as I thought and realized who was absent, I heard a knock on the door, and I went rapidly to the door and opened. There he was Chico in the arms of Doña Rosario.  The first thing I heard was a, 'miau', it was a light Orange Tabby Cat that Marisol adopted four year ago as kitten and named Chico. Once inside Chico jump down from Doña Rosario and started looking for Marisol as he continue meowing as he headed to our bedroom. ''Oh my Lord, I almost completely forgot about Chico. Ain’t that a shame on my part, Doña Rosario?'' ''Not really, Anacleto, who you are mourning and missing is Marisol, it is like mourning and missing Marisol is your entire world now but time will get you back and Chico will help you. I’m in the same world now and Marcelino too. I left him playing in his Cello Marisol’s favorite, 'The Concierto de Aranjuez' by Maestro Rodrigo. I have no doubt that I’ll heard it many of times from now on and down the road on as our life continues, for the Earth will continue rotating and there is practically nothing that could stop It nor slow It down in the entire space for now. Our 'Globe' will rotate for the foreseeable future and us with 'It' until we jump out, when our time come to leave as Marisol did.'' ''Always comforting your words of wisdom. Thank you, Doña Rosario very much.'' With that, we embraced for a long time.

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 PART #2: Marisol’s Shop Inventory

In September 2059 my life changed in more than one way. The next day after the funeral I got up early in the morning, helped by Chico who was nuzzling my face. It was 6:00 am and the light of the new day was timidly filtering through the curtains of the long window in the bedroom. I made some coffee but first I fed Chico that was rubbing against my legs insistently. I sat at the table of the kitchen that was placed next to the window and looked out. Movement was starting at the street level, and the Sun was shining and showing off already its precious golden rays as if it were the 'pavo real' of the Universe; no doubt if was going to be a sunny day in Washington D.C. Afterwards I refreshed my face without shaving and dressed up. By the time I went to the door to opened it to leave the apartment Chico was already there sitting in front of it and looking at me. Chico always went down to the Shop following Marisol where he spent the day with her, from 10:00 to 1:00 and from 4:00 to 7:00. Between 1:00 and 4:00 it was lunch and siesta time. So, Chico did the trip, down and up twice from Tuesday to Saturday. The Shop was closed Sunday and Monday, and Saturday was open from 10:00 to 2:00. I was in a way surprised because Chico only followed Marisol wherever she went, in the apartment, down to the shop and vice versa. Chico was 'Momma’s Boy', but then again, all cats are regardless of its gender.

Marisol’s shop has dual entrances, the main one for the public on the street at the front. The second one was at right side of the shop internally that connected to the lobby of the living quarters that went up to the second and third floor, the second where Marisol’s parents lived and the third and last floor where, well now, Chico and I lived. The door was not locked, so I turned the knob and Chico like a bullet burst into the shop. I heard a voice saying: ''Morning Chico.'' It was Doña Rosario: ''Morning Anacleto.'' ''Morning Rosario.'' Chico still going around, smelling here and there, just like a dog would do, well almost. No doubt he was searching for his momma Marisol. It was Monday, a day that was normally closed and said: ''Rosario, I am thinking of keeping the shop close for the rest of the week.'' ''Yes, my son, whatever you consider would help you at this hour.'' ''I’m planning to do an inventory of the things that Marisol left us with. I wanted to get more familiar with all the history items in the shop at the same time that I finish, I don’t know how, the article that I was paid for by this magazine that it is almost done.'' ''I’m with you all through, whatever you needed to do, go get and do it.'' ''Thank you, you are a lovely 'suegra' and…'' ''Oh, stop that, you are a most lovely son-in-law that a 'suegra' could ever dream of, Anacleto.'' We both laughed and embrace silently for a minute, it was a confirmation that we had each other, and what a confirmation, me the unconditionally support by the woman that gave birth to the love of my live, and the unconditional support of the man that loved her daughter and her daughter loved until the early end of her life, and who knows, beyond. Chico’s meowing brought us back to the store, the store with the name of: 'Marisol’s History Hub'. I was facing a daunting prospect, to get hold of the 'shop' and run it, for that’s what Marisol would want me to do, a new life altogether, 'life after Marisol' no less.

''Doña Rosario.'' ''Yes, my son.'' ''Can you produce a sign, and you know what’s best to write on the sign that says the shop will be closed until next Tuesday and place it at the door, and please take care of Chico meanwhile, I’m going up the street to see my parents?'' ''Yes, of course, you are in charge of the shop now, and please, you don’t need to address me with the 'Doña' first, plain Rosario would do.'' ''Got it, still, 'Doña' has a fine ring for me, a fine 'gracia' to me.'' With that, I left the shop to visit my parent that lived five blocks from the shop in a similar house. They lived also on the second floor, being the street level the first and that was rented for the last ten years to George, a man that opened an Art Gallery in which he also framed pictures, photos, art and other items and did some remarkable work for 'Marisol’s History Hub'; the name of the gallery was 'Art for All'. {Will be continued}