In chapter 11 of Children of Stonewall (published in 2018,) Arthur, the novel’s protagonist, envisions a dark future for America. In his vision, the alt-right, fanatic evangelicals, homophobes, white supremacists, Trump and his triumphant base, rise to power after their election victory, waging war against those who struggle to defend the fragile light of democracy in San Francisco.
... Art found himself on the tallest crane. He looked around. On the horizon, smoke was rising from different spots of the city. He looked more precisely and recognized the Golden Gate Bridge. He was sure now that parts of the city of San Francisco were on fire. Sounds of explosions were added to the previous bangs and crashes. Then he heard the recurrence of gunshots and a storm of machine guns, alternating.
Rocket-like shots opened his eyes to the reality of what was going on in front of him. He saw helicopters approaching him on his right; one crossed over his head. Seconds later, two jets flew over the Golden Gate Bridge toward him. He looked at the horizon. He could not recognize if it was morning or dusk. Art knew that it was not nighttime yet, but he could not see the sun. He looked up. Over his head, there was dark smoke. He felt the heavy air hard to breathe. Stellar, flickering blasts crashed into different streets with a formidable sound. He stared at the streets below, under his feet. Sandbags in the middle of the streets reminded him of the guerrilla war movies. Two other fighter jets crossed over his head with a terrifying sound; seconds later a large building, with a giant billboard, crumbled on itself. It was hit by one of the fighter jet’s missiles.
San Francisco, his favorite city, was under attack. Art wanted to defend this city with all his heart and power. A small buzz on his left forced him to turn his head. A large, motionless flying drone was in the air, recording him, a red light blinking on its underside. Art quickly stretched his arm toward the drone, as if he was trying to grab the flying object. But the distance between Art and the drone was about ten feet. The drone’s upper rotor blades stopped rotating abruptly. While still hovering in the air, the drone’s lights went off.
Art looked under his feet again but did not see the crane. He was suspended in the air. He felt powerful. Art targeted the unmanned aerial vehicle with his palm at a 90-degree angle to his stretched-out arm. The UAV approached him. For a moment, Art thought he was the one moving toward the drone. Without repositioning his body, he looked down at the building under his feet. No, indeed, the drone was being forced to move toward him. The drone was within his reach. Grabbing the overheated drone, Art detected a small camera underneath. He snapped it off quickly, which caused a scratch on his finger.
Art sensed he could move freely in the air. He could not believe it, but he was flying. He turned back to see that the UAV fell to the ground. Throughout his life, he had always wanted to sit on the highest point of the Golden Gate Bridge. He flew toward the bridge. Through the smoke and the fog, he looked down, checking streets underneath. He detected flags and banners on the streets, showing different designs of the rainbow. Some buildings and shops were in flames. Through smoke and haze, Art identified the armed forces with special uniforms under his feet, carrying semi-heavy weapons. He descended a little. Art could not recognize the type of guns and uniforms. He saw the forces pointing their weapons at a specific building across that street. A tank was ready to shoot at the same target too. In front of this building, he saw barricades. A sizeable full banner with colors of the rainbow was mounted on the upper floors of the building.
Art stopped approximately 50 feet above the ground where the armed forces were. He felt a supernatural power within him, which he could transfer to every part of his body with ease. He held his arms and hands close and parallel to his thighs on both sides in a vertical stretched body position, then closed his eyes. His two fully opened palms, facing down, targeted the tank and armed forces underneath. Palms still facing downward, his stretched arms began to rise slowly without bending. As his hands rose, tanks and other weapons ascended into the air. Some soldiers that did not let go of their weapons rose but seconds later threw themselves down. It seemed Art was holding the tank with his left hand and controlling other weapons and rocket launchers with his right hand. He pushed his left hand down and moved his right hand to the side on his right. The tank hit the ground hard, and other guns and the rest flung in the direction according to Art’s hand movement.
Art opened his eyes with a loud scream. He looked down to check the outcome of his actions but instead...
