“What’s his name?”

“Jonah Henderson, Chief.”

“What’d he get incarcerated for?” She looked at the file.

“Anarchy and misconduct, not to mention resisting arrest.”

“Hmmm, sounds like we got a rebel on our hands,” the police chief grunted. “I think I’ll take this one myself, teach him a lesson.” Police Chief Jim Coiler took a puff from his cigar. He put it in a nearby ashtray, since there was no smoking in the Interrogation Ward.

“Here’s his cell number.” Alicia gave him a small slip of paper, saying ‘Cell Block #4826’
He walked past several guards, and said a polite ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’ to each of them. Most of the prisoners at each cell hissed at him, or said some very impolite things to him or his mother. Coiler just ignored them. The convicts learned their lesson on quoting his ethnicity and appearance. Last month, an angry gang member called him a ‘fat, lazy, N- word.’ He was barely able to eat through his teeth. He also made sure he got a few more years on his sentence.

He arrived at Cell Block #4826. Jim checked the paper. He was at the right place. A guard unlocked the cell door, and the rebel stepped out. Chief Coiler was surprised. He was expecting an unclean, barely controlled hoodlum who looked like he’d never had a haircut. Instead, he was greeted by a relatively handsome man who looked like the sort of guy you would shake hands with. He had clean hair, shaven face, and smelled much better than Coiler. He was handcuffed, but didn’t look like he needed it. If that man told Jim he was innocent, Jim would believe him.

“His name’s Jonah Henderson, sir,” a guard told him. Even his name sounded normal. If Coiler hadn’t heard of this guy’s crimes, he would’ve let him go. He almost didn’t want to incarcerate him. Almost.

They walked into the Interrogation Ward. They grabbed the nearest room, and the guards pulled up some chairs. The room was dimly lit. It was to create an atmosphere of tension and hostility around the prisoner, but Jonah seemed unaffected. He still kept that faint smile of his on his face, like he was going to be released the morning after.

“Morning, officer,” he said calmly.

“That’s Chief Coiler, to you,” Jim retorted crabbily. Today was not his day. On top of marriage issues and his kid’s schooling, he had spilled coffee all over his uniform before he went to work. He then had to change, making him late. That was not good for a police chief. Luckily, the traffic was okay on the way to the station. He guessed the Lord decided to cut him some slack. Which reminded him, he needed to get a new suit for service tomorrow.

“Today is Saturday, September 19, 2013,” one of the guards said into a recorder. “The time is 10:03 in the morning, we are interviewing a convict named Henderson, Jonah, and he is accused of misconduct, anarchy, and resisting arrest.” He paused the recorder. “Are we ready to interview Mr. Henderson?” the guard asked Jim.

“Sure,” the chief confirmed. The guard with the recorder nodded. Jim turned back to Jonah. He clasped his palms together, and made himself comfortable. “So, Mr. Henderson. Would you like to tell me what you were doing on the fifteenth of September, at about 3:00 in the afternoon?”

“I was on top of a red Hyundai, promoting anarchy.” Coiler was amazed at Jonah’s fluidity and sureness.

“And just why, tell me, why were you preaching an action less favorable to society?”

“Society has been kept in the dark, brainwashed, that they don’t know what’s good for them. They have been taught since birth to respect and honor our leaders. Never being taught rebellion.” It sounded like Jonah had his mini-speech already thought out. “Even the ones who think they’re rebelling are being lied to. They still live under a boot, despite their efforts. The government cares for them the second until they finally decide to truly break away. Even the most generally respected leaders are trusted as far as the people can throw them. As soon as they disappear, the sheep have lost their shepherd.”

“Don’t you think this is a very cynical view of life, Mr. Henderson?” Jim asked.

“Yes, but not without foundation. Even the Bible likes to mention sheep and shepherds. The difference between us and cattle is that we have an option of free will.” Jonah paused and looked at his hands for a moment. He seemed to be pondering. “We have taken that ability for granted.” He straightened himself out, ready to lecture the cops again. “No one likes to admit it, but we are on a leash. The more privileged the leader is, the tighter the leash.” Jim started to see from the anarchist’s perspective. Then, the part in his brain that didn’t want to realize Jonah’s logic took over.

“Why do you think in this way? The government cares for their people.” Jonah let out a short laugh.

“A very cynical view on life.” Jonah was quoting the chief. “Open your eyes, officer! Do you know how many people are starving in the streets? How many officials which have given into greed? We convince our children that the president is the hero of heroes, but only certain people know the truth. Think about it. Humans were meant to be ruled! The reason why the government is so ineffective is because they themselves want to be ruled! Only the wanting and grateful people are fit for the job, and they’re having a hard time speaking out in between loud buffoons and screaming sycophants!” Jonah stopped, and attempted to calm down. He took several deep breaths.

“What does this have to do with your actions earlier this week?” Coiler asked warily. Henderson huffed with frustration.

“You still don’t see it officer,” Jonah said, as if he was talking to a child. “The point here is, humanity is still maturing. They aren’t toddlers anymore, yet we certainly act like them as a collective. We follow the loudest bully on the playground.” He wrung his hands. “However, that isn’t the point. What none of us realize is... our noose is already woven. It had been a long time ago. There isn’t a point in stopping the execution, but we’ve been trying our best to slow it down.”

“How is our noose already woven?” Jim interrupted.

“It’s been like this ever since the Dark Ages, where humanity was too stupid and blind to do anything useful. The rope is well past done, and they’re already commissioning a hangman.”

“Who would this... hangman be, Mr. Henderson, and who’s they?” Jim was starting to feel like this was a psychological evaluation.

“I’m not completely sure who’s the hangman, officer. But I’m confident they means the powers that be.”

“God?” Coiler couldn’t believe he was still listening to this psycho’s ranting. For whatever reason, he was actually intrigued.

“You could say that. There are many powers beyond our comprehension that we pretend to understand.”

“Like evolution?”

“Yes! That’s a perfect example!” Jonah leaned in as close as possible to Jim Coiler.

“Do you ever feel, officer, that this world is just part of one, big, bogus story?”

“What do you mean?” the chief said uncomfortably.

“All of our efforts, everything we’ve done on this planet, is just rising action to a bigger plotline? Think about it! A divine saga, filled with heroics, betrayal, uncertainty, everything you’d want in a good book. Who knows? Maybe it’s the second time they’ve told it.” Those words struck Coiler. He had never thought of his life as important. He thought life was meant to be enjoyed. Never had he realised someone else may be enjoying his life.

“That seems preposterous, Mr. Henderson. Why would someone wanna watch us?”

“We are still in the rising action part of the story. The climax has hardly happened. Humanity can go in two directions. They could solve everything and realize what’s good for them, or they can boil over and start another holocaust. I’m not sure, but things are certainly unstable for our Earth. The climax is coming, be it next month or a century.” Jonah was out of breath. He puffed on his cigarette. Coiler stood up, wide-eyed.

“Where’d you get that cigarette?”