The President

by Parker Hudson

  “Are you pregnant again?” Sally asked.

  “I’m afraid I may be, despite a pill my boyfriend gave me. That’s what I’m here to find out,” Eunice replied. It was obvious she was not pleased at the prospect.

  “Hmm,” said Sally, glancing down at her magazine. “I found out I was pregnant a few weeks ago.” There was a pause, and Sally quickly glanced around their seats. “Listen,” she continued, lowering her voice, “if you are, would you like to learn how to make a quick five thousand dollars?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Eunice.

  “I mean instead of a pregnancy costing you money and messing up your life, would you like to earn five thousand dollars, like I’m doing?”

  There was another pause as Eunice tried to imagine what her friend was talking about. Then she said, “Sure, I guess. How?”

  WASHINGTON—That afternoon President William Harrison and his closest advisors were gathered in the Oval Office in the West Wing of the White House. The first press conference of Harrison’s new presidency was scheduled for the following week. They would have a full dress rehearsal on the day before the press conference, but for now they were reviewing subjects that would probably come up, talking through with Harrison how to field the reporters’ questions. The best questions they hoped to turn to their own advantage; the hardest ones they hoped would at least do them no harm.

  Seated in an imperfect circle around a large coffee table, with William Harrison at one end in a comfortable stuffed chair, were seven of Harrison’s nine closest advisors. Jerome Richardson, his chief of staff, one of the few top advisors who had not also been intimately involved in their political campaign, chaired the meeting and would try to keep the agenda on track, even though the subject was relatively free form. A tall, Harvard-educated African-American who had been the CEO of a major New York securities firm, Richardson gave no doubt whenever he was in any room that he was in charge, except when he was in a room with President Harrison.

  Ted Braxton, one of Harrison’s oldest and closest friends from North Carolina, had been a young, brilliant economist based in Charlotte. His focused reports had led him to become a syndicated columnist, and he was now the president’s domestic policy advisor. He and Harrison attended high school together in Raleigh but had drifted apart until Braxton had been one of the earliest supporters of Harrison’s liberal/activist campaign for the North Carolina governorship eight years earlier. The two men had grown close again during that first gubernatorial campaign when Braxton only occasionally chided Harrison publicly, primarily when he hesitated to implement an activist, bigger government approach to solving their state’s problems.

  Harrison had chosen Sandra Van Huyck to head his foreign policy advisory team. About Harrison’s age, Van Huyck had moved over the years between jobs in the State Department, several major educational institutions, and two foundations. She had always been a voracious reader, and she prided herself on her analytical and problem-solving abilities. Bored with her last academic post, she had walked in off the street to the Harrison campaign eighteen months earlier. She had not only tutored him in many important areas outside the natural domain of a state governor, but she had also written several excellent one-liners which he had used continually during the campaign.

  The president’s press secretary, Chris Wright, was pulled up to the circle in his wheelchair. Chris had lost the use of his legs thirty years earlier at age fourteen, as the result of a boating accident. The settlement of his parents’ subsequent lawsuit against the boat manufacturer for failing to install adequate seatbelts and warning labels had allowed Chris to attend college and to pursue his love of writing and journalism. In the early nineties, in addition to his job as an anchorperson for a Seattle television station, Chris had become a gifted spokesperson for the handicapped citizens of the nation. He volunteered to join Harrison’s campaign in its first month and had handled the press very well during the entire campaign, making him the natural candidate for White House press secretary.

  Bob Horan, Harrison’s chief speechwriter, had also been a journalism student when he and the future president first met at the University of North Carolina in the late 1960s. Horan had enjoyed a multifaceted journalism career, including long stints as a reporter with several major dailies and a wire service, and he had written two books on how to write books. When William Harrison first needed a speechwriter for his early presidential aspirations he had called Bob Horan; the man known for his “velvet hammer” phrases had been a member of the inner circle ever since. And Bob Horan was a homosexual, with strong ties to the gay rights movement.

  A newcomer to the inner circle was Patricia Barton-North, the vice president of the United States. Mrs. Barton-North had been a very liberal, pro-government-intervention congresswoman from southern California who had been appointed to fulfill the unexpired term of the junior senator from her state when he had collapsed and died on a basketball court. Senator Barton-North had done well during those two years and had then been reelected in her own right. A strong feminist, she had been chosen to balance the presidential ticket both geographically and by gender.

  William Harrison considered himself to be a liberal humanist in the enlightened tradition of North Carolina politics. He believed that human intellect, education, and government intervention could eventually overcome almost any problem. But during their successful campaign of the previous year he had been surprised to learn that his running mate from California seemed to begin each day as if she were preparing for battle with almost everyone. Patricia Barton-North was a strong force who got things done for her constituents, worked hard, and pushed even harder for the causes she believed in, centering on women’s, children’s, and minority rights. Her husband, Frank North, a general contractor in Los Angeles, kept their home there, although their one daughter was away at college. Patricia lived in the official vice president’s residence at the Naval Observatory and commuted home to California as often as possible. She obviously revelled in her role as the nation’s first female Vice President, and her strong personality guaranteed her a say on those issues in which she was interested.

  Barbara Morton had been William Harrison’s personal secretary since the days he had been a lawyer and North Carolina state senator before running for governor. Because she had worked with him for so long, Harrison valued her input, which she rarely volunteered but gave freely when asked. At meetings like this one she always took extensive notes and then gave well-prepared summaries to her boss in a matter of hours.

  William Harrison looked around at the closely knit team he had selected to advise him. The only two people missing were Lanier Parks, secretary of state, and Robert Valdez, secretary of the treasury. Both men were out of town that day.

  With the exception of Jerry Richardson, the chief of staff, who had been a young officer in the army right after college, none of those seated around the coffee table, including the president himself, had ever served in the armed forces.

  As President Harrison surveyed his inner circle of policy advisors, it once again occurred to him that he had successfully outdone even his predecessor in choosing a group that was above reproach for its balance. Men and women, black, white and Hispanic, straight and gay, even physically challenged, he thought. How can anyone beat this group? He had indeed been praised by the press for selecting such a diverse team.

  President Harrison cleared his throat and said, “Let’s be efficient with our time. This is important, but the mayors from our five largest cities will be here in ninety minutes, and I need ten minutes to prepare for them.” He then nodded to Jerry Richardson, who opened a three-ring binder on his lap and began the meeting.

  “All right, let’s focus first on the likely domestic issues the press will ask about next week. Then we’ll move to foreign. Remember, we’ll practice how to field specific questions on Monday and have a dress rehearsal in the family theater on Tuesday afternoon. For now we want to familiarize ourselves with probable question areas, particu
larly those that might create some tension, and consider ways to handle them. Let’s just freewheel for a while on domestic issues, and Barbara please take good notes, as always.”

  “Well then, I’ll start,” Ted Braxton led off, leaning forward in his chair, his own binder propped on the edge of the coffee table. “I think this equal-but-separate movement that started on several university campuses a few years ago is a real hot potato and should produce one or more questions at the press conference.”

  “Can we just duck it for now, saying that we’re studying it?” asked Bob Horan.

  “I have to tell you,” said the president, slightly shaking his head, “I’m not comfortable with this issue yet. If there are any old Ku Klux Klan members left from the fifties and sixties, they must be laughing at this one. Here we’ve spent well over forty years trying to integrate all our minorities into one mainstream, with equal opportunities for all, and now the minorities themselves want to be segregated in the name of equality.”

  “But, Mr. President, that’s just the point,” said the vice president, tapping a fingernail on the arm of her chair. “Minorities can’t really be free to be equal as long as they’re overpowered by the majority in every walk of life. And this is voluntary separation. I think if African-Americans, women, homosexuals, or other minorities want to have their own separate dormitories in college, or units in the armed services, or even schools, then I think this is how they will finally reach their full potential. I think we should get behind it, after an appropriate period for the press to educate the public, and push for this legislation. This press conference will be a great opportunity for you to plant those seeds so the legislation can be written early next year.”

  “But, like the president, I’m still not sure,” interjected Jerry Richardson. “It might have made me feel great for about a week to be in a black dorm in college, studying about the history of Africa, but I don’t think I would have learned what I needed to learn, or made the relationships I needed to make, to wind up as the CEO of a Wall Street securities firm by living for four years in an African-American dorm. Whatever you call it, aren’t you really creating new plantations and dividing our nation into many, many sub-categories, sort of like the former Yugoslavia, where everyone eventually despised everyone in a different sub-group? And what if white males, who I guess are now arguably a minority, wanted to form their own equal-but-separate living quarters in school?”

  “No way,” said Vice President Barton-North, her voice rising a bit. “This is affirmative action we’re talking about. It’s the way for individuals in our various minorities to realize their own self-fulfillment. White males, who are the majority, no matter their numbers, could not set up such a group by definition, because this legislation would only be for the minorities who have been persecuted for so long by previous laws and policies. I repeat that it’s a good idea, and we should support it.”

  “Well, I’m not there quite yet,” said the president, leaning back in his chair. “It’s a very complex issue, and I’m just not sure the folks with the loudest microphones really represent the true wishes of the minorities involved, much less of the nation as a whole. But I hear your concern, Patricia, and I’ll think about it over the weekend. Barbara, let’s ask the staff to research as many angles as we can on this one. For now Bob may have the best thought for the press conference: we can legitimately say we’re studying it.”

  The vice president started to speak, but the president raised his hand, and she stopped.

  “Now, Ted,” the president continued, “Let’s talk for a minute about the church tax proposal. We’ll probably have some greater agreement there.”

  “Yes, sir. That legislation should pass the House shortly, and it might even have a good chance in the Senate. As you know, it’ll repeal the non-profit tax status of any religious organization, including churches and synagogues of course, which practice any sort of discrimination, or which get involved in political activities. We may pick up some swing votes from the other side in the Senate because of its tax-raising benefits, to help fight the deficit. The legislation will stop bigots from hiding behind the facades of churches. If an organization won’t allow women or homosexuals, for example, into all positions, including that of priests, then there’s no reason for that organization to enjoy the benefits of tax-free status. ‘Separation of church and state’ means that the state should not help any church with its rightful tax bill when that church does not abide by the laws of the land, like non-discrimination. And the same goes for those ‘churches’ that try to tell people how to think and how to vote. They can continue to do so, if they want, but not on the government’s nickel.”

  “I like that last line, Barbara. Please make a note of it for the press conference. Does anybody have a problem with this one or see any potential traps at the press conference?” asked the president.

  There was silence around the circle. Everyone believed it was high time for this legislation to pass, and with a majority of the press also in favor, they doubted any questions would be too difficult.

  “What about abortion?” asked Bob Horan. “In the past that’s always been a killer.” He smiled slightly at his own pun.

  “Surely that one’s dying down now that we’ve got a real morning-after pill,” said Patricia Barton-North. “I mean, is anyone much even doing the old-style abortions these days?”

  “Yes, unfortunately they are,” answered Ted Braxton. “Unfortunate in the sense that we have to continue to protect the abortion clinics from the fanatics.”

  “I feel strongly on this one,” said the president. “The Supreme Court has clearly said that abortion is the law of the land, and years ago under the Health Reform Act abortions were made available through government assistance. An abortion is certainly preferable to another child on welfare! That’s why I signed the executive order during our first week allowing full-term abortions in any facility that receives federal funds under health reform. After all, a fetus of any age is not a living, breathing baby. I hope someone does ask a question on it because I’d love to have the opportunity early in our administration to send a loud and clear message that we’re not going to tolerate any type of disturbances at licensed abortion clinics. We’ll arrest and prosecute to the fullest extent of the law.”

  “Remember what you said and how you said it just then,” said Bob Horan, smiling, “and you’ll come across just great on the cameras, as you did during the campaign. Get some of that same fire in your belly, and the people will love it. And I guess you should be prepared for a possible question on how you feel about already appointing two Supreme Court justices in just three months.”

  “Well, the retirement everyone foresaw; but the tragic death of Justice Miller was completely unexpected. For public consumption, that’s it. But between us, I hope our nominees have a lasting effect on this nation for progressive thinking long after we’ve all moved on to other things. Jerry, how are the confirmations looking?”

  “Very good, Mr. President. Even though we don’t control the Senate there’s still enough of the honeymoon feeling around to help in the hearings. No one should ask too many questions, so in that sense we’re lucky on the timing.”

  The group continued to discuss other domestic issues for thirty more minutes before turning to foreign policy matters.

  “Well, Sandra, what sort of questions are likely on problems overseas?” asked Jerry Richardson.

  Sandra Van Huyck adjusted her glasses and began. “Of course the foreign policy question that is also very much a domestic issue is Free Cuba. Now that Castro is gone and the boats from Cuba have been pouring into south Florida for almost six months, all of the social service delivery systems in the Miami area are terribly overloaded. The question is how can we stop the boats?”

  “Surely the free entry of Cubans can’t go on forever,” said Richardson. “Even Cuban-American leaders must realize there has to be a reasonable end to this policy. Isn’t it better to provide services there than to co
ntinue to flood south Florida?”

  “I agree with Jerry,” said the president. “Let’s pick an end date—some-thing reasonable, say sixty days from now. And we’ll tell everyone about it, let as many come as want to before that date, and then enforce the same rules that we’ve been using for the Haitians for many years now.” Fair is fair, and where will we put all those people anyway?

  “All right. We’ll look at it and have a date set by our meeting next week,” agreed Van Huyck. “Next issue: we haven’t said anything publicly about the small political party in Kuwait ‘inviting’ Saddam Hussein to come and ‘rescue’ the country from the totalitarian Kuwaiti royal family.”

  “That’s absolutely absurd,” said the president.

  “I know, sir. And that’s the point. You should use any opening at the press conference to label that invitation and the entire Kuwaiti Nationalist Party as what they are: puppet fronts for Saddam Hussein. But you should also, by the way, call for reasonably early and fair elections there as well, which will undermine the growing audience in Kuwait for groups like the KNP. Vince Harley at the Joint Chiefs of Staff doesn’t want to have to remobilize in the Persian Gulf now.”

  “Okay. Good, Sandra,” said the president. “What else?”

  “I’m certain someone will ask a question about the referendum vote that the new British Socialist government is going to have next month on the future of their monarchy. Since we need the British government’s help in so many areas right now, I suggest you divide your answer into an official part, affirming the right of one of our oldest allies to decide such issues on their own, and a personal part, reiterating how much most Americans cherish British traditions, especially the monarchy.”

  “I agree,” said the president, starting to appear restless, as he usually did after an hour of sitting. “What else?”