“Crystal.”
“I’ve been working the back channels in Denver, and I have people headed to the convention that will infiltrate the convention and rebut whatever Callahan in selling. We need him to come off the stage as a wacko, not a hero. I’m trying to stop the Green Party from gaining momentum for 2064. You’ll be out of this crazy city, relaxing in a small island off the coast of Florida. The party is already prepping for the election four years from now and we need to keep the ‘Greenies’ below 25% of the vote.”
Dodge thought about this for a moment. He paced back and forth as he always did when he was thinking of a new idea and snapped his fingers.
“Hey, here’s a thought Ed, what if I brought Callahan here as a gesture, you know, a human interest story. We can prop him up. Make people think we give a damn about the greenies and maybe that’ll soften whatever he says at the convention. If people think I understand him, or by some insane reason, people think I believe one shred of what he says, it might be good for the party.” He turned to his wife, who obediently nodded silently in agreement.
Dodge continued. “I have a full agenda for my second term, and if I can accomplish most of those goals, I’ll feel good about how I’m leaving the White House for the next guy.”
Now it was Klimchock’s turn. “I think we’ll pass on bringing him here. Your greeting may encourage people to sympathize with him, and my job right now is to shoot him down. It’s hard to imagine that anybody in the civilized world believes anything he says. Let him embarrass himself on national television and see what happens.”
CHAPTER 28
October 22, 2060 - Denver, Colorado
Under a waning crescent moon, 22,000 Green Party supporters and a throng of media from across the world were filing into the Denver Convention Center. Greg and Ballard entered through the media entrance, located in the rear of the building, far away from the crowds pouring in at the main gates two hours before the first speaker was due to take the podium.
Green Party president Bonsoi greeted them in the waiting room.
“Gentleman, welcome to the convention. Isn’t this exciting?” He didn’t wait for an answer, “I’ve never felt such a buzz before. You can sense tonight is different from all other nights. I received an outline of your speech, and I’m impressed. You’re going to kill’em tonight. Nervous?”
“Not nervous, but there are a few butterflies in my stomach.”
Greg pointed to Billy’s shoes.
“Mr. Bonsoi, we bought him new shoes for the occasion.”
Bonsoi stared at the feet of the man so much was riding on for his party and saw his special guest speaker wearing a pair of Birkenstock sandals.
Bonsoi hid his repulsion with a fake smile. Black socks and tan sandals was an interesting look. He continued. “I would have thought that more traditional shoes would have gone better with the navy blue suit you’re wearing, but I suppose nobody will see your shoes. Your words are more of an issue with folks than your shoe preference. Stay in the waiting room until it’s your turn to speak. You’ll be on stage in about two hours.”
Billy nodded, “Gotcha. Relax.”
At eight o’clock in the evening, a petite lady in a white dress entered the convention room to a throng of cheers. She glided to the podium, grabbed the gavel, and gave it a good bang on the wood, “My name is Sydney Applewhite, and I’m from Durango, Colorado!” A great roar came from the crowd. Applewhite was the party’s nominee for president on the ticket. Her background included degrees in childhood education, and molecular science. She had spent the last four years working for the Green Party after leaving her highly paid position with the nuclear regulatory commission, “I declare the 5th convention of the Green Party open. Thank you all for coming, we have a great night of education and entertainment for you. Remember, the election is only a few days away. We need you more than ever.”
Applewhite was as comely as she was smart, a fact not lost on Green Party president Bonsoi, who thought as long as America had to hear the “green” message, they might as well enjoy the image of the messenger. He wasn’t wrong, as many of the pollsters thought putting the lovely Applewhite at the top of the ticket was a stroke of genius.
She kept her message short. “Tonight’s a party and a time to celebrate. I’m counting on all of you to work hard, and spread the word about our efforts to stem the tide of the destruction of the earth’s natural resources. It’s our time! Thank you, and enjoy the rest of the evening! I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Five minutes of raucous cheering, and clapping ended when a young man walked on stage with a guitar. The young man tweaked the microphone stand, and smiled to the capacity crowd.
“How y’all doing tonight?” said Ricky Denver. He was a local country star who performed all of the old John Denver classic songs from the 1970’s. Chants of “Sydney!” filled the hall for several minutes. Confetti rained down from the ceiling. Eventually the crowd settled back down.
Ricky broke out in song, and the crowd sang along with every word, “Rocky Mountain High” got the crowd up off their seats. Mission accomplished. Denver left the stage to a round of applause and the lights grew dim. Prerecorded broadcasts of whale calls filled the arena. Supporters whistled, clapped, and the gigantic video screen that faced the crowd was changing each second with images of snapshots taken all over the world, no image staying on the screen for more than a third of a second. When the viewer figured out what they were looking at, the music changed and the so did the image. There were pictures of animals, factories spewing out thick black smoke, pictures of new born babies, old people, cigarettes, and the video continued for five mind blowing minutes. The last image was that of the Denver Regional Landfill, in the news recently for a myriad of safety violations that caused long lasting damage to groundwater networks. The crowd gave a loud and lusty chorus of “boos” to the picture of the president of the landfill, a meek man with round glasses named Cyrus Wigglesworth. There was his famous quote, the one that ultimately led to his dismissal from the job on the screen with the picture of the landfill. The phrase “We’re proud of what we’ve achieved” brought out laughter from the crowd. In the convention center, dozens of people mocked the landfill administrator with signs that read, “You can’t WIGGLESWORTH yourself out of this one Incarcerate Cyrus!”
The lights came on and off several times and this time a picture of Sydney Applewhite filled the screen. She calmly re-entered the room and boos gave way to cheers. The crowd was in a frenzy as their leader was about to speak again. Chants rose from the gathering and the leader had to hold up her hands and beg the people to quiet down. When the crowd refused to stop, she laughed, but did raise her hands in an attempt to silence the crowd. They acquiesced after another minute or two.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, so much for that warm greeting. Hearing you makes all the hard work we’ve done for all us completely worth it. We’re ready to take back this country from the people who don’t care what they do to this planet, and I for one, am sick to death of it!” Her voice rose at the end of the sentence and his statement brought the crowd to their feet again and more chants of “Sydney” echoed throughout the convention center.
She spent the next fifteen minutes bringing the throng to a fever pitch with the party line speech that promised action instead of words to help save the environment.
“We’re ready to challenge the two-party system that tilts the playing field decidedly against us, but when we make our statement at the polls —.” The multitude erupted and rhythmic clapping carried on for another five minutes. Loud cheers escorted Applewhite from the stage. Her supporters greeted her with hugs and kisses.
Various speakers paraded for the next hour. Billy prepared to take the stage after a short intermission. In the waiting room, he rehearsed his lines as Greg gave him constructive criticism.
“You’re talking too quickly! Try not to flair your arms in the air like a bird. Don’t say ‘um’ while you’re talking. Th
ink of the next sentence and let it come out slowly, naturally, as if you and I were talking at dinner. Try to be smooth and relaxed up there. You heard how Applewhite did it.”
Billy said, “You know what? Please stop telling me all these things. I trust my instincts and I trust the teacher. Deep down, way inside me, he’s in there. I know that seems crazy, but it’s true.”
At that moment, one of the stagehands entered the room and shouted, “Five minutes, Mr. Callahan.”
“Bonsoi told me to use the bathroom before I hit the stage. I better go right now.”
“There’s no time for that,” said Ballard.
“I waited millions of years for this moment, they can wait an extra twenty, or thirty seconds if they have to.” Security led Billy down a hallway to the men’s restroom.
Billy was still zipping up his pants when his escort practically pulled him on stage.
Ricky Denver returned to the podium. The crowd buzzed with anticipation. Rhythmic chants of “Billy” “Billy” echoed from the cheap seats of the upper balcony and before long, the entire crowd was repeating his name over and over again.
Bonsoi stood at the edge of the stage.
Denver raised his arms and gestured for the crowd to settle down.
“Please folks, please. I want to introduce somebody to you.”
The crowd erupted again. Two more minutes of roaring and shrieking. Bonsoi scanned the crowd. He couldn’t believe that the men and women in the crowd were acting like teenagers at their first rock concert. It reminded him of stories his great-grandfather told about going a Beatles concert at Shea Stadium in New York City decades ago.
Denver tried again, and this time the crowd hushed.
“There’s a man here on stage that wants to talk to the fantastic people of Denver, and the people from all over the world sitting in their living rooms wondering why you should vote for the Green Party. We’ve been trying to tell governments and business’s that there has to be a shift in the way we operate in this world. You and I already know that, and we need to get the corporations to understand that if we don’t take better care of our world, there won’t be any people or businesses left to worry about corporate profits, Wall Street stock reports, or cushy board of director jobs. The Green Party is here to change the future. And speaking of the past…”
Another huge roar from the crowd.
“I want you to give a warm Denver welcome to a man who has made headlines lately. Clearly, he needs no further introduction, members of the Green Party, viewers at home, and members of the media, here and around the world. I give you, Mr. Billy Callahan!”
The crowd stood and cheered as Billy walked toward Denver and they exchanged hugs and Denver whispered in his ear.
“Applewhite told me to tell you that if you blow this, you’ll never see another camera or microphone as long as you live.”
Those weren’t the words of encouragement he expected. Applewhite had misgivings about allowing Billy the possibility of ruining her big night, but Bonsoi intervened and insisted that Billy’s speech would help spread the message.
Greg and Ballard sat in the costly prestige boxes reserved for the rich people in attendance. Conspicuously absent from the media room was a lovely young lady from Chicago named Gretchen Sampson, who had arrived on time with her crew, but Bonsoi made sure that her “press credentials” were not approved, and she was forced to view the event from a bar located down the street. When she vigorously protested, Bonsoi told her to go get a deep dish pizza, a dig at her suggestion made to Billy during her interview with the man about to speak to the nation.
The first thirty seconds at the podium were a blur to Billy. He scanned the crowd. Wild cheering burst forth throughout the crowd. He glanced to his upper left and could make out the vivid orange Denver Bronco jersey that Greg sported. He spotted Billy looking at him and gestured with his hands, palms up and then slightly pushing them towards the ground, the motion telling Billy to take it slow. Billy got a kick out of that. “He’s still looking out for me.”
Billy tilted the microphone towards his mouth. His first words were too soft and Bonsoi grimaced as a faint “Hello, Denver” barely made it past the first ten rows of the floor seats. Nervously, Billy kept his eye towards Greg for approval, and saw his friend cup his hands around his ear, indicating that he couldn’t hear Billy’s words.
Louder, Billy bellowed out a “Hello, Denver!”
This time he spoke a bit too loud, but the crowd didn’t care and they roared with approval. They desperately wanted him to do well.
A fan from the back yelled, “We love you, Billy.” A brief smattering of laughter followed that.
The comments put Billy at ease and he answered without hesitation. “I love you, too!” More laughter from the attendees.
“I want to give a super big thank you to Mr. Bonsoi and Ms. Applewhite, who had enough faith in me to let me speak to you. It’s quite an honor and I promise to be truthful. Many of you know of my unusual path to this stage. A bizarre set of circumstances that began innocently enough with a trip to Israel in August of 2012 that changed my life. The television network cancelled my father’s television show. We finally had time to spend together, and he took me to Israel to search for ancient artifacts. On that infamous August date, the “Negev Monster” earthquake killed my father, and I had the terrible misfortune to fall into a crevasse.” He stopped to take another drink of water, took a deep breath, and came back to the microphone. There were a few people from the crowd yelling supporting words. “Tell us, Brother Billy!” exclaimed one. Another voice shouted, “We believe you!”
“Thanks again for your support,” said Billy. He continued, “I fell in that hole, and after trying desperately to get out and see if my father was okay, I found myself connected to this metallic orb. You’ve all heard the story or read about it and I want to tell you a few things about that day, and what else happened to me over the next decades.
I want to go back to my father for a minute. He was a great guy and I was lucky enough, despite my tragedy in Israel, to have experienced exciting adventures with him while he was alive. I’m grateful to him for exposing me to so many different cultures, dead and alive. When we found cultures that no longer live on the earth, we searched for clues to determine the cause of their demise. My father traveled to many places in his time. His favorite was Gobleki Tepe, in the southeastern part of Turkey. Thousands of years before Stonehenge, somebody, somehow, built twenty-foot walls of stone. How did such an unsophisticated group of people get this done? We still can’t prove how they were able to raise the stones so high and how they were able to transport the stones in an area that didn’t lend itself to easy transportation. Yet, Gobleki Tepe is there. None of my skeptics would argue that fact. You can go there and touch the stones with your hands, giving you validation that it’s real.”
Applause broke his speech. He sighed, exhaled, took a big breath, and continued.
“Another of my father’s favorite sites was in Lebanon. Of course, I’m talking about Heliopolis Baalbek. Twelve-hundred pound monoliths stand tall over the land at a time when that technical ability to build such monoliths didn’t exist. Yet again, the monoliths are there, thousands of years later. Imagine the first people to report the findings of those two magnificent historical sites? They met with cynicism. I came forward to share my experience with the world and faced similar views. The two places that I mentioned have tangible stones that you can touch with your fingers and at this particular moment I can’t do that for you with my orb. That doesn’t mean it’s not true. Let me tell you what happened when I touched that orb…”
Billy told the crowd about the orbs and last battle on Tenegraw that killed hundreds of thousands of people. He told them about the gigantic ships that removed the minerals from the ground until there was nothing left. Billy spoke with confidence and never wavered in his presentation of the facts as he recalled them. He paused from time to time to sip water.
“I can assu
re you that if we don’t change the way we live, we will become extinct. The people who lived here long ago will destroy us, or we will slowly kill ourselves by our inability to maintain our own existence here on earth. People, please take a step backward, and look at what we’re doing to the planet. You know the truth, you don’t need me to stand up and tell you we’ve reached the precipice. I like that word. I just learned it two weeks ago.”
The crowd smiled in approval.
“This is the time we take a stand for mankind. We can’t wait for our fathers to do it for us, or have our kids do it for us. It’s our time!”
Loud cheers and applause filled the arena. Billy attempted to go back to the microphone but Bonsoi grabbed his left arm, and raising it simultaneously with his own. The decibel level kicked up another notch.
Bonsoi hugged Billy close to him. “You did great Billy. You should be proud.”
“But I wasn’t fin —”
“Always leave them wanting more. You’re a star. I have a feeling there will be more nights like this for you. Tonight is about convincing America that Sydney can lead the nation.”
“Thanks,” said Billy. Thousands of complete strangers smiled and yelled his name. It was a far cry from the Keller Institute basement. His speech was a success.
CHAPTER 29
October 23, 2060 - Durango, Colorado
“It’s historic!” said Greg, pointing to the television.
“What?” asked Billy.
“Today’s election polls have been released. The Green Party moved up 8% points overnight. That’s the single largest increase they’ve ever had. The reporters are attributing it to your speech. The Green Party is only a few percentage points behind the Democrats. Dodge is still running at 40%, but the Green Party is up to 29% and the Democrats fell to 31%.”
“I was glad to contribute,” Billy said humbly.
Greg stood up from the couch, “Don’t kid yourself; you talked about aliens. The Green Party is rocking this morning. The telephone rang all night.”
The Two Worlds of Billy Callahan Page 12