by Joseph Flynn
“What’s your dimestore psychologist’s view of what happened?”
“Chana hated the fact that Damon Todd had reentered her life. He represented a threat to her and Graham, and if Crosby was helping him … maybe she wanted to see him getting up.”
And who could blame her, Patti thought.
What she said to McGill was, “Thank you.”
“You really think you’ll be asked about Crosby?” he asked.
“I can’t say, but being unprepared wouldn’t do.”
McGill pointed his chin at the other side of the stage. “There’s Wyman.”
Patti gave her former VP a polite nod. He returned it.
“He looks relaxed,” McGill said. “Like the two of you are going to talk to the Kiwanis.”
Patti agreed. Did her best to assess what was going on in Mather Wyman’s mind.
“We’ll have to see if Mather has brought his A-game tonight,” Patti said.
Then it was showtime.
The format was the same as the first debate except this time the questions had come in from around the nation by e-mail. All the queries had been stored in a data base and thirty minutes before the start of the debate had been queued at random. The moderator, Anthony Winsted, the dean of the College of Arts and Sciences at Cornell, read the first question to the candidates and the rest of the world.
He said, “Ms. Helen Wagner of Holland, Michigan says, ‘I’m a junior at the University of Michigan. I’m a dean’s list student majoring in computer engineering. My fiancé is a senior at Michigan, a top student, and a drama major. The two of us will start our married and working lives with over one hundred thousand dollars of combined student debt and uncertain job prospects. What can either of you do to persuade us you’ll keep the American Dream viable for us and all the other young people of our country?”
Mather Wyman, having deferred to his opponent in the prior debate was first up.
The former vice president paused, as if he’d had something else on his mind, but then focused on the matter at hand. He said, “Thank you for writing, Ms. Wagner. Congratulations on your academic achievements and your upcoming wedding. You have every right to be concerned about your future. The prospects for young Americans today don’t look nearly as bright as they did twenty or even ten years ago. The sad fact is the private sector of our economy is not creating enough good jobs for your generation. I have some ideas to remedy that situation. These ideas go against the recent orthodoxy of my party because they involve the federal government’s participation.
“If elected president, I will submit to Congress plans for two programs aimed at creating full and meaningful employment for young people in the United States. For graduates of our colleges and universities, the program will be called America’s Interns. For graduates of our technical schools, the program will be called America’s Apprentices. In both cases, the federal government will pay fifty percent of your hourly wage up to ten dollars per hour for your first two years of employment. That will give smart businesses a subsidized labor force and encourage hiring. It will also give graduates a foothold in the labor market, the ability to move up in the company that hires them or the ability to move on to a company that’s smart enough to scout first-rate talent elsewhere.
“In addition to providing help with salaries, the programs would also offer a dollar of credit toward repayment of student loans for each dollar earned on the job. That would enable our young people to get out from under their debts while they are still young. That would give Ms. Wagner and others the chance to buy their own cars and homes which would help the economy to expand and produce still more jobs.
“These programs will be funded by a one-dollar tax on every stock transaction that is made in the United States. That way, every time someone buys or sells securities, he or she will also be investing in our country’s future.
“I have to admit, I hadn’t specifically thought of drama majors, and maybe that area of endeavor would be better addressed by the president, but thinking on the matter now perhaps a third program could be added for graduates engaged in creative pursuits. We could call it America’s Protégés.”
Bailey Hall, the concert venue of Cornell’s Department of Music, erupted in applause.
TellMeTrue.com, a website created to track national and global responses to the answers the candidates provided, both in terms of direct responsiveness to the question and appeal as a new solution to an existing problem, gave Wyman ninety-nine points out of a hundred.
The president came up to bat. “I applaud Vice President Wyman’s ideas. I would happily embrace them in a second term. I would go further, though, and look at education as a whole as a means to building a good life. Between kindergarten and high school graduation, going to school each day should become an occasion for joy. College, for those who aspire to it, should be the educational adventure of a lifetime.
“To realize that vision, to provide the programs Vice President Wyman has suggested, to secure the future for Ms. Wagner, her fiancé and other young Americans, there is one reform that must come first. We must end the influence of special interest lobbyists. As long as legislation and votes in Congress can be bought by campaign contributions, the government will not serve the people.
“Giving a hand up to Ms. Wagner will never be possible as long as special interests are busy carving out tax loopholes and preferential treatment for themselves. I agree that a one-dollar tax on every stock transaction would be a fitting way to fund the programs Vice President Wyman has suggested, but that legislation will never pass Congress while Wall Street’s lobbyists are on the job.
“Unless …” The president took a dramatic pause. “Unless you, Helen Wagner, and millions of other Americans demand that the link between campaign donations and favored legislation be severed.
“I have suggested that legislation be passed prohibiting any member of Congress from voting for or advocating for any person, company or cause that has made a campaign donation to that member of Congress. I proposed that no member of Congress be allowed to become a lobbyist or adviser to lobbyists for a period of ten years after leaving office. No staffer to a member of Congress would be allowed to become a lobbyist or adviser to lobbyists for five years after leaving his or her government job. I proposed that no former member of Congress be allowed to enter the House or Senate chamber except on ceremonial occasions.
“If I am returned to office, I will make this the first challenge I take up. Jesus said the corrupting influences of money changed the temple into a den of thieves. That’s pretty much the situation in Congress today. Ms. Wagner, my fellow Americans, tell your representatives and senators to get behind lobbying reform or get out. Do it at a shout if necessary. That is the surest way to make the government work for you again and to restore the American Dream, whether Mather Wyman becomes your next president or I remain your president.”
The president received an ovation to equal Wyman’s.
TellMeTrue.com gave the president ninety-nine percent, too.
The debate continued through the subjects of the separation of church and state and the proper way to achieve social change: moral persuasion or the force of law. Both candidates gave detailed, thoughtful answers. Each was interrupted by applause several times. In horse racing terms, the debate looked as if it would be a photo finish.
Then came the closing statements, and the country was given something new to think about.
Mather Wyman went first. “I thank all the kind people here at Cornell for hosting the president and me tonight. I thank all the people who have worked with and for me through all my years in politics. I especially thank my beloved niece, Kira Fahey Yates, for her unqualified love, going so far as to think of me as her surrogate father, and grandfather to her and Captain Welborn Yates’ dear baby girls, Aria and Callista.
“When a man or woman enters politics, he or she is supposed to make all sorts of disclosures, and I have complied with the letter of the law but not with its s
pirit. There is something else I must tell the American people before I can ask any of you to vote for me to be your president.”
The room went completely still. Mather Wyman drew a deep breath.
“I am … a gay man. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you. I lacked the courage. President Grant knew my secret. I told her last year. Another competitor might have used that knowledge for political advantage. She did not. On the contrary, listening to her speak of courage at our last debate helped me to come to this decision.
“If you were to elect me to be your president, I would have to show great courage to do the job properly. I know that for a fact because for a short time I was acting president. To do the job right for four years, the president needs the support of the country. To ask for that support, he or she must be honest with you. That is what I’m doing now. I have no other secrets to conceal and I hope you will judge me on Election Day by what I want to do for our country.”
There was a long moment of silence before the moderator said, “Madam President?”
Patti Grant looked at Mather Wyman and then out at the audience.
“Either of us here on this stage will do our best for you. If you choose me, you should know I will ask for Mather Wyman’s wise counsel on many issues. Thank you, all.”
Air Force One — En Route to Andrews AFB
After conferring with her staff, Patti took the seat next to McGill in the president’s private suite. He turned off SportsCenter to share the moment with his wife.
“When will you leave for Winnetka?” she asked.
“Tomorrow morning. Abbie has decided to come with me. She cleared it with her profs at Georgetown.”
“They probably trust her to keep up with her work.”
McGill grinned. “Yeah. She wants to cast her first vote for president at home with Carolyn.”
“You know who she likes?”
“Well, it’s a secret ballot, but I have my suspicions.”
Patti asked, “You’ll have all your security people on hand?”
“Sweetie, Elspeth, Deke, Leo and assorted hangers-on.”
“I’d hate to win the election and find out something bad has happened to you.”
“Me, too. It was a closer thing than I like to remember, seeing that tomahawk flying at my head.”
Patti took McGill’s hand. “Good thing you’ve got quick reflexes.”
“And Sweetie warning me in time.”
“And Sweetie. You think Damon Todd will make an attempt after two professionals failed?”
“The guy is smart, but he’s not straight on the rails.”
“You’re saying he might act against his own best interests?”
“More colorfully, yes. We’ll put the word out where I can be found. He’ll come.”
Patti didn’t ask what the outcome would be for Todd. She didn’t want to know.
“You’re not upset I didn’t tell you about Mather Wyman?”
McGill wanted to know one thing before he answered.
“Did you tell Galia?”
“No.”
“Then I’m not upset. In fact, feel free to tell Galia things I don’t know. Most of them, I probably wouldn’t want to know. Mather Wyman’s lifelong masquerade being a fine example.”
“So you’re comfortable having me keep secrets?”
“I’ve read Khalil Gibran and taken his advice to heart,” McGill said.
“‘Let there be spaces in your togetherness?’”
“Exactly.”
The North Shore — Northeastern Illinois
Global warming was doing a bang up job prolonging the fall color season. McGill decided to keep his Secret Service people on their toes by getting out and about, visiting not only his kids and Carolyn and Lars, but also his mother and father. He sang duets with Mom after a family dinner and went fishing at Chain O’ Lakes State Park with just his dad — and his security detail dotting the shoreline, and a helicopter on station out of sight and hearing.
Sweetie also visited with her family, and Putnam flew in to meet his new in-laws.
Norman Rockwell, had he not died thirty-four years earlier, might have worn out a paint brush capturing the All-American good times. He probably would have left all the ladies and gents wearing sunglasses and carrying automatic weapons for Edward Gorey to fill in along the margins.
What an artist to be named later had yet to seize upon — along with all the feds and local cops — was sight of the main villain of the piece, Damon Todd. McGill felt sure that was due to the obvious show of force around him. He didn’t think for a minute that Todd had given up the hunt or would be content to go off and scheme in isolation for a year or two.
When Election Day came, McGill’s platoon of security personnel had vanished. He showed up at his old polling place, St. Simon’s Catholic Church, in Evanston with just Elspeth Kendry for company. The election judges and the other voters on hand, all of whom had seen replays of McGill’s tussle on the National Mall, gave him a warm welcome. Handshakes and hugs. Great to see you agains.
But one wise guy had to tell him, “No electioneering at the polling place, pal.”
He pointed to the Reelect Patti Grant button on McGill’s lapel.
McGill told Elspeth, “Shoot him.”
The wise guy was uncertain just long enough to draw a smile from McGill and laughter from everyone else. Except Elspeth. She thought McGill ought to retire the line.
McGill stepped into the voting booth and punched the ballot cleanly for his wife.
Thankful it would be the last time.
The Oval Office
The president, Galia Mindel and Stephen Norwood watched the reports of voter turnout and exit polls come in from around the nation. The weather was mild and dry throughout the country. Turnout was much heavier than normal.
“We might set a record for total votes cast,” Stephen Norwood said. “The percentage of women voting will be very high and that should be a good thing for us.”
Galia said, “Turnout in the South is high, too. We know who that’s going to help.”
Norwood said, “There was no way anyone could have foreseen the rebirth of Southern populism. It has introduced a whole new dynamic to American politics, and Tom T. Wright joining the True South ticket gave Howard Hurlbert a big lift.”
“Sure,” Galia joked, “especially after he promised to make every Tuesday, year ‘round, an honorary Mardi Gras with two for one drinks.”
Norwood laughed, but when the president didn’t her two top political counselors looked at her. Galia said, “Madam President?”
“You think I’ll win?” she asked.
“It will be close, but yes,” Galia said.
“Very close,” Norwood said, “the counting might not be done tonight. Worst comes to worst, you should have a majority of the Supreme Court.”
That made Patti Grant smile.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Do you think Mather Wyman will finish third?”
Galia sighed. “What he did was very brave. I think it will open minds and opportunities in the years to come but, today, I think he did himself in. He’ll finish third.”
“My opinion, too,” Norwood said.
“What a shame,” the president said.
Chicago Executive Airport — Wheeling, Illinois
Jaime Martinez had never jumped out of an airplane so far north. He was used to warmer skies with different wind conditions. He was used to landing on soft beaches in sunshine. The return to earth he’d make tonight would be unlike anything he’d done before.
Still, he owed Damon Todd more than even his life. The men Todd had hired had freed his wife and killed the cabron who had taken her. Todd had arranged for both of them to flee Mexico. The cartel could look for them in the United States until the end of time and would never find them. Jaime and his wife were resettled on a small finca in Uruguay. It was a beautiful place, and tonight would be the last time he would set foot north of the equator.
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br /> Jaime had completed one jump that day, just to be sure all would go well tonight. For him, the temperature at ground level, sixty-two degrees, was cool, but seeing all the local people walking about in short sleeves, smiling in the sunshine, he knew he was lucky. The weather, his research showed, could be a lot worse, much colder, windy, even snow was possible.
His test jump showed him it was possible to fly here. He saw the great city and the vast lake to the southeast. He saw the residential neighborhoods along the shoreline to the north of the city. He didn’t know which of the lakefront mansions would be his target, but tonight there would be a beacon to guide him.
Chicago Executive Airport lay just outside the airspace of the vastly larger airport called O’Hare. The flight tonight would be only a few minutes to the lakefront. His jump would be even shorter. With just a bit of grace from God, all would go well.
Todd would be repaid and he would be free.
After his test jump, Jaime had been picked up and driven back to CEA. He and the pilot both inspected the aircraft they would use that night. Everything was perfect, including the amount of money the pilot would receive to not mention that a man had jumped out of his plane that night.
“Everything good, Mr. Donato?” the pilot asked.
Jaime was pretending to be Italian.
His skin was fair enough to pass and he had blue eyes.
“Si, molto buon.” He even knew a few words of the language.
Jaime went back to his hotel and called Todd. Told him everything was ready.
The Grant Mansion — Winnetka, Illinois
Only a handful of lights were on in the mansion Patti and Andy Grant had once called home. The property was walled off along Sheridan Road and from the neighbors on either side. The steel beams that had been sunk into the lake bed to keep boats from landing on the private beach were still in place and holding firm.