"Now, Bob, I'm back. How you been?"
"I've been fine, Sam. Yesterday I talked to Tom Adams here in Washington after the 'Gun Bill' passed both houses of Congress, and we thought we'd invite some people up to the Lodge in Idaho for a little gripe session. You interested?"
"If I get a chance to talk about the Mining Act, you know I'll be interested. What else is on the agenda? Was Tom in Washington to lobby against the Gun Bill?"
"Yes, he was. He spent a good part of the last month here, but as you know, we were pissing into the wind. As far as the agenda goes, anything you want to put on it is fair game. Tom and I have some things we want to discuss, but it's just a chance to blow off some steam."
"Well, Bob, I'm pretty busy through this week. When are you meeting?"
"Next week, probably Thursday. Plan to stay an extra day and get in some trout fishing."
"Who else is coming up? Will Bill McKay be there?"
"I've asked him. He's sure he can come up unless there's some kind of crisis. I think Hal Browning will be there, and I'm going to ask George Brazleton."
"Sounds good to me. Count me in. I'll probably fly up that morning. Should be there around eight or nine."
"Great, Sam. I knew I could count on you."
"Give my best to Theresa, will you Bob? She's a great little gal. Is she coming with you?"
"Yes, indeed. I need her to keep the meeting from getting out of hand." Both men laughed, exchanged their goodbyes and hung up.
Sam pushed himself around so he could look out the window of his Denver office. He had a spectacular view of the city from the fifteenth floor of the Brouchet Office Building. "Now what's Bob Winston up to?" he asked himself. "Why would he be calling a meeting of people like Adams, Bill McKay, Brazleton? The damned Mining Act and Gun Bill have already passed. The President has already signed one and has pledged to pass the other one. He must
really have a lot on his mind."
Sam buzzed his secretary and said, "Ruth, clear my calendar next Thursday. I'll be flying up to Idaho. I'll need to arrive about eight or nine. Call Henry and tell him to get the plane ready. Anything super critical coming up between now and then that I need to take care of?"
"No, nothing we can't handle here, Sam. How many days will you be gone?"
"Two for sure, possibly three. I'll bring you back a couple of trout, Ruth."
"The last time you promised that, you forgot your fishing gear, Sam. Remember? Have a good trip."
Sam laughed and clicked off. Ruth had been with him so long, he couldn't remember when he didn't have her to handle his office. She was a perfectionist, never backed down from his loud crudity and quick temper, but she was the best executive secretary in Denver. Sam couldn't imagine not having her around and he couldn't imagine Ruth addressing him as Mister Brouchet. She was ten years Sam's senior and treated Sam more like a frisky son than a boss, a relationship they both found comfortable.
Sam buzzed Kent again so they could resume their earlier conversation.
George Brazleton spotted Bob Winston walking down the hallway of the Rayburn Office Building. It was obvious that Winston was looking for him and Brazleton waved to acknowledge him.
"Bob, to what do we owe the honor of such a distinguished visitor in this side of the Congress?"
"Matter of fact I was looking for you. I was in this part of the complex and thought I'd just drop in and say hello."
"Well, that's mighty nice of you, Bob. How's Theresa and the rest of the family? Haven't seen any of your family for months. Everyone all right?"
"They're fine. And your family? How's everyone doing?" "Just great. I just became a grandpa last week. I'm going to have to quit touching up my hair and start looking the part." George laughed the raucous Texan laugh for which he was renowned. George Brazleton was a fiftyish, overweight, neither ugly nor handsome son of Texas. He had crafted a distinguished career for himself, having served over twenty years in the House of Representatives. His thinning hair receded to reveal a protruding temple which some thought also revealed his great intelligence. He was smart, actually cunning would be a more apt description. He had learned every trick of human nature, every nuance of body language, every hesitation of speech, every movement of eye and shoulders. His antennae were always out, probing, scanning, looking for a little advantage in the heartless, cutthroat business of politics and public service. That he was in line for the post of Speaker of the House of Representatives was testimony that he had learned the game better than the competition.
"I wouldn't worry about it, George. Look at it this way. Now you can find something to spend all your money on. You can really spoil the little one. Is it a boy or girl?"
"Little boy. Looks just like me. God help him, right!"
George had put his arm around Bob's shoulder and they continued walking to George's office. As they entered, George turned to his secretary and told her to hold his calls. They entered Brazleton's office. "Well, now, Bob, what can I do for you?"
"George, how would you like to join me up at the Lodge next week. I've invited Tom Adams, Bill McKay, Sam Brouchet and Hal Browning for a little gripe session. After the 'Gun Bill' and the Mining Act passed, we just thought it was time to see where we are and where we're going."
"That roll call didn't include anyone east of the Mississippi River. Do I rightly conclude that this is a gathering of unhappy westerners?" asked George, already quite sure of the answer.
"You're right. This is a meeting of westerners and for
western concerns. We thought you should be there because you
represent the South as well as the West. We'd love to have
you there, George. Might give you a chance to get some things off your chest, in private, no newsmen around."
"Next week, eh. What day?"
"Thursday. Stay an extra day and do a little trout fishing, or play some golf. You know how great the golf course is."
"Count me in. I can't resist that place. It's the only place outside of Texas that I'd ever consider living. And you better not ever quote me on that, or the folks down in Texas would start a recall campaign." Both men laughed and shook hands. Bob Winston left to return to the Senate. George Brazleton walked Winston to the office door, said his goodbyes and watched Winston as he walked down the hallway. "Now what is ol' Bob Winston up to?" thought George to himself. "He must still be mad about that damn 'Gun Bill'. Maybe he does just want to blow off some steam. But he could have done that right here in my office. I worked to defeat that damn thing myself. Oh, well, I guess I'll find out next week."
That evening Bob Winston called Harold Browning, governor of Oregon. He extended the same invitation to Browning that he had extended to the others, never revealing the basis for calling the meeting. Browning, like the others, accepted the invitation without prying into Winston's reasons. Browning was happy to be invited and to visit the Lodge in Idaho for a two day respite from his schedule.
"Bob, there's someone I want to bring with me. Do you know Robert Hall Jeffries, the premier of Manitoba?"
"I've never talked to him. I know who he is and we attended a meeting in Washington last year. Seemed liked a very nice gentleman. He delivered an address at that meeting, I believe. How well do you know him?"
"We were on a joint Canadian American task force a couple of years ago, and we've formed quite a good friendship since then. We try to get together a couple of times a year."
"Well, I don't know, Hal. Originally we intended to make this an American gripe session. I'm not sure whether we should hang out our dirty laundry with a Canadian present. The others I've already invited might be taken aback by his presence. What would be his motive for attending such a meeting?"
"Bob, Canada's falling apart at the seams. Jeffries tells me that they are perhaps a year away from the biggest crisis in their history. It seems that Quebec wants out of the Canadian union. He can explain it in much more detail, and with much more conviction than I am able to. The western Canadian provi
nces are looking for a new home. If Canada hemorrhages and breaks apart, the western provinces will either have to form a new country or try to attach themselves to the United States."
"My God, Hal, I didn't realize that it was that serious. I knew Canada had been dealing with the Quebecois separatists for the past few years. Even my Senate committee haven't directed much attention to it. You know how we take Canada for granted. Maybe his attendance will add something to the meeting that I had overlooked. Bring him along. I think the others may find the Canadian situation as intriguing as I just did."
"Fine, I'll give him a call tonight. I think he'll be delighted to visit with us. See you next Thursday."
Bob Winston pushed back from his desk and looked across
his office, deep in thought. "What in the world is this going to mean to the US? Canada breaking up? I wonder if I should call Tom Adams. No, I don't think I will. Jeffries' unannounced presence might add a little shock value to the meeting." Winston suddenly was aware that he was talking aloud to himself. He smiled and picked up the phone for one last call for the evening. He really had to talk to Wyoming Governor Bill McKay before he retired for the evening. And he needed to call the President, but thought it might be too late tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning.
The next morning, after his usual breakfast of coffee, toast and orange juice, he called Bill McKay in Wyoming. He extended the same invitation to the governor that he had to the others, with no more explanation.
"Bob, I'd be proud to come over for a couple days. It looks like a quiet week here in the office and I could use a day or two talking to you fellahs. I'll see you Thursday. Say hello to Theresa for me," said McKay in his slow, measured manner of speech.
Winston next called the president. After the usual screening by his chief of staff and secretary, which took a minute, he was put through to the president who was expecting his call. "Good morning, Mister President. How are you this morning?"
"I should ask you how you are, after the events in the senate last night. You know I have to sign the bill, don't you Bob?" said the president, feeling out Bob's response.
"Yes, sir, I do. You know my position on it and I know yours." The two men respected each other but did not have a fondness for one another. They were on opposite sides of the aisle as senators, but had worked for passage of some important legislation when the president had served in the senate with Winston.
"Bob, I wonder if you could come over to the White House today and meet with me and some other gentlemen? I am not at liberty to divulge their identity, at their request. Could you make it around two-thirty this afternoon?" The President knew that he was extending a formality by asking, rather than telling Winston to come to the White House.
"Of course, Mister President. This sounds a little mysterious. I'm honored to meet with you." There was never any doubt that Senator Winston would accept the invitation to meet with the President of the United States. Even if they were bitter enemies he would, out of respect for the office, accept. "Will we be discussing the 'Gun Bill'?" asked Bob, his curiosity showing.
"Only indirectly," answered the president. "I want to give you an opportunity to convince me not to sign it, among other items on the agenda." The president laughed a little nervously. He knew that Senator Winston knew that the bill was as good as signed.
"Thank you, Mister President. I'll be there at two-thirty."
After hanging up, Winston played the conversation between himself and the president over in his mind, like a tape recorder by pressing the rewind and fast forward buttons. He had not a clue what the president wanted and hoped that replaying it might shed a little light. It did not.
Chapter III
The Meeting at the Lodge
The Four Pines Lodge was a favorite retreat for people of all economic levels in the Idaho area. Not yet discovered by easterners, it appealed to those who sought to get away for a weekend of trout fishing or golf. It offered a chance to see some of the most spectacular scenery in the west. Framed under clear blue sky, the lodge nestled between mountains on one side and a huge natural lake on the other. Mountain streams spilled into the lake, having cut their way through rock formations over a period of a hundred thousand years. It was not uncommon to see a math teacher from Boise alongside an oil company executive from Wyoming, hip deep in ice cold mountain streams, battling the biggest trout in the Rockies. There, they were just fishermen, doing combat with man's old adversary. They did not think of themselves as rich or poor, executive or teacher, just fishermen.
Bob Winston arrived first at the lodge on Wednesday, to sneak in a little fishing before the others arrived. With him was his charming wife Theresa, a woman who had shared his hopes and dreams for thirty years. Theresa would act as the hostess for the gathering, to lend the feminine charm that was her uniqueness. She was Theresa, never 'Terri' to friends and acquaintances. She was the type of woman who could appear in Levi jeans and a denim shirt, and standing beside another woman dressed in a black dress and heels, would be noticed first. Her green eyes and auburn hair framed an elfish, spirited smile that had disarmed cattle ranchers and foreign ambassadors alike. She never knew a stranger. She gathered people to herself like flowers attract bees. No one who knew her had ever seen her lose her temper or utter a disrespectful word about anyone. She was nearly fifty years old, but still had that firm girlish figure of a woman half her age. It was no secret that half the votes Robert Winston received in his unblemished political victories were cast for Theresa. That fact was never lost on Winston. He valued his wife's opinion and solicited it as often as possible.
Theresa greeted her husband as he returned from the morning fishing trip to the mountain stream barely a half mile from the lodge. He had caught two beautiful trout and he showed them to her, like a little boy, hoping for an approving word from Theresa. She did not disappoint him. "You still have the old magic, hon," she said. "How long has it been since we were up here? Almost a year? I bet you found the same spot where you caught that big two pounder last time." Theresa had never fished. She never developed the habit that many of her women friends had so many years ago. She felt that it was Bob's way of getting off to himself so rarely and did not want to intrude on his privacy by inviting herself along. It was one of the many reasons he held her in such high regard.
Bob Winston turned away from her smile and looked intently down the long road leading to the lodge. He saw a car coming through the main gate of the lodge driveway and thought he spotted his friend Tom Adams. Tom was alone. Winston went down to greet him, and Theresa joined him.
"Theresa, how good to see you again," said Adams, smiling broadly, obviously happy to see her after such a long time. He had missed seeing her in Washington, though he had been there three times in the past two months. "I see you're still with this old reprobate. When are you goin' to get smart and leave Bob for someone who really appreciates you?" He was of course kidding Bob Winston with the remarks directed to Theresa.
Theresa merely smiled and put her arms around Tom, giving him a warm kiss on the cheek. "How have you been, Tom?" she asked. "And how are Susie and the grand kids? We have got to get together this summer for a barbecue or go see a rodeo or something."
"Everyone's fine. The kids and grand kids are well. As for Susie, she's too busy with the social whirl to go to a rodeo, but thanks for the thought. I think Tom junior is going to study in England this summer. He'll know in a couple of weeks. He's going to do some graduate work in political science. He still wants to teach and I'm not going to discourage him."
"And well you shouldn't, Tom," said Bob. "That boy is as smart as they come and will make a great college teacher. Just keep him out of politics and maybe he'll amount to something."
Coming from Senator Robert Winston, that comment belied his own contribution to the American political scene. Elected to four terms in the House and three times to the Senate, Robert Winston had accumulated impeccable credentials in the frenzied game of American politics. Considered scrupulousl
y honest, he was voted one of the top five most respected men in America by a magazine survey. Chairman of two Senate committees, one the prestigious Foreign Relations committee, he was well liked, respected and without known sin. But for the fact that he came from a small state like Idaho, he could be sitting in the White House.
"I think the others will come in late tonight or early tomorrow, Tom," said Winston. "I know for sure McKay, Brazleton, Sam Brouchet and Hal Browning will be here. I spoke with them by phone twice to be sure. I didn't offer too many reasons to any of them about why we're meeting, but I knew the fishing alone would tempt them. Hal Browning asked if we would mind if he brought someone else along. I told him I thought it would be fine." "Who is that?" asked Tom.
"Jeffries, the Provincial Premier of Manitoba," answered Winston. "It appears that the Canada we know is in great distress. The French speaking people of Quebec and the northeast have forced another vote in the Canadian Parliament, and if they lose that vote they say they will secede."
"I thought they had pretty well resolved that problem last year when the deadline imposed by Quebec came and went," said Tom. "How did Jeffries even know we were meeting?"
"Apparently Browning and he are old friends, or well acquainted. They served on some type of joint Canadian American commerce task force about three years ago."
"Does his presence suggest what I think it suggests?" asked Tom.
"Hell, Tom, I'm not altogether sure I know what the Americans here will come up with, let alone the Canadian representative," answered Bob.
Tom Adams did not like that last comment, but he liked and respected Robert Winston too much to let it rankle him. Maybe Robert Winston didn't know what the agenda was, but Tom Adams had a very good idea what he would like to see discussed. If one high Canadian official was present, that changed the political equation considerably. It opened up an option that Tom had not even considered in the previous few days.
The Second Declaration Page 2