The President

by Parker Hudson

  “Well, there’s usually an inevitable question or two about Russia. There I think you can point to the stability and successes of the past several years, especially in Russia and Ukraine, as a testimony to their human spirit and to their love of freedom, even in times of great economic difficulty.”

  “Sandy, what about the agent killed in Odessa? The rest of you probably haven’t heard, but it happened sometime yesterday in the Black Sea port. We want to keep the lid on this while we investigate, but by the press conference some facts may have leaked out. And for your ears only there was a note attached to the body vaguely threatening to kill millions of Americans”—everyone looked toward the president—“which we definitely don’t want to mention while we’re investigating. We assume it’s the result of an overly imaginative zealot. At any rate, we might get a question inquiring about whether the cold war is starting over again.”

  “Yes, I was getting to that,” said Van Huyck. “We obviously won’t bring it up, but if you are asked, the official response from the Ukrainian government so far has been very positive and very helpful. They appear to be as shocked as we are, and they’re permitting us to send a special team to the Odessa area to ask more questions around Old Towne, near the waterfront, where the agent was killed. So I think you can truthfully sidestep the question, if it comes, as an isolated event without any known connections to any specific government or organized group.”

  “Kill millions of Americans?” Richardson asked for all the others. “How could anyone do that?”

  “I don’t know,” William Harrison lied, not wanting to leak even to his own advisors the remote possibility that the agent’s death was somehow connected to the old rumor of a missing Soviet warhead.

  As his chief of staff looked back to his notebook, the president moved on. “Okay, fine. What else have you got?”

  The session lasted another twenty minutes. By then it was almost time for the president’s meeting in the Cabinet Room with the delegation of big-city mayors from the Mayors’ Conference. Harrison needed a few minutes to read his brief on their names, backgrounds, and a family fact he could “remember” about each one.

  As their session broke up and President Harrison opened the door of the Oval Office to receive his briefing memo, he found his seventeen-year-old daughter, Katherine, waiting for him in the reception area. She did not look happy. She obviously wanted to see him, despite the fact he was late. Oh, no, what now? he thought. Where’s Carrie?

  “Hi, honey.” He stopped just outside the door as the other participants from the meeting filed past on either side. “How was school today?” he asked, regretting the words as he spoke them, remembering the disappointment he had caused her by not attending the annual father-daughter luncheon at her school.

  Tall like her mother, her reddish-blond hair giving a hint of the fire in her personality, Katherine crossed her arms and looked at him with a scowl. “Well, as you know, I had a lot of free time during lunch today.”

  “Katherine, you know I wanted to come to that luncheon, but I had a meeting that had been scheduled for a month.”

  “Yeah, I know, just like always.”

  William, sensing others nearby in the reception area were beginning to feel uneasy about this exchange and were turning away, said, “Again, I’m sorry. Is there something I can do for you now? Where’s your mother?” He wished that his wife was there to handle whatever was on his daughter’s mind.

  “She told me to come see you, that there’s nothing she can do.”

  Oh great! Thanks a lot, Carrie. “Look, honey, I’m late for a very important meeting. Can’t this wait?”

  “No, it can’t! It’s about these stupid Secret Service people who treat me like a two-year-old and try to run my life. I’m sick of it,” she said, her voice rising.

  Glancing up, the president took his daughter by the arm and said in a low and calm voice, “All right, let’s find a private place to talk for a minute and you can tell me what’s the matter.”

  The president and his daughter stepped out into the hallway and walked around to the Roosevelt Room. William closed the door. He took a deep breath, trying to focus on his daughter. Carrie is supposed to handle this stuff, not me..

  “Now, please Katherine, tell me as calmly as you can what the problem is.”

  “The problem, which is the same problem I’ve been having for the last three months, is that I no longer have a life. Being the president of the United States is obviously fantastic for you, but being the daughter of the president of the United States sucks,” she said angrily. “After you missed the luncheon today, Susan Thompson invited me over to her house to do our science project homework together. I mean, is that a big deal? But the Secret Service agents said no. They said neither the Thompsons’ home nor the route there had been approved for me, and their orders were to bring me back here, to this giant prison.

  “So basically I’m locked up in this cage without a life of my own. I’m seventeen years old, and I’ve been sentenced to at least four years in prison with a mother who’s almost always unhappy and a father who’s usually home, but who I can never see, because he’s too busy running the world. At least Robert has escaped to college and has some freedom. I’m just here. How would you feel? Do you ever even think about me?” she asked. By now the tears were running down her cheeks.

  William realized he was into a conversation that had been building in his daughter for weeks, if not months. He tried to reason with her.

  “Katherine, you’re right. I haven’t thought enough about your situation. I guess I thought you were happy, but obviously I was wrong. The Secret Service people are just doing their jobs.”

  “But Robert’s not locked in like I am. He’s told me he can decide to go places on the spur of the moment and the Secret Service people let him do it. Why can’t I?”

  “Sweetheart, he’s four years older than you, living in Chapel Hill, a small college town, and he’s a boy—a man really. And he does have Secret Service protection, though you’re right, it’s not as structured as yours.”

  “So there it is again. He’s a boy, so he gets special treatment.”

  “No, Katherine. It’s not that. It’s just that—well, more can happen to you. I mean, imagine if some terrorist group grabbed you. Think of what they might do. And the public might demand some type of retaliation.”

  “So all this just has to do with public relations and politics, and not me, right?”

  Despite his best efforts, William was becoming exasperated. He took a deep breath, then put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and looked into her eyes. “Katherine, I hear you. Like I said, I probably haven’t paid enough attention to you, or to your mother, since the last three months of the campaign—that’s almost nine months now. I tell you what. I can’t change it all overnight. And I may not want to change much. But I promise you that I will meet with the head of the Secret Service. Okay, we’ll meet with him,” he corrected himself, as she started to speak, “to see what we can arrange about them being more flexible.

  “And I also promise you that while we’re at Camp David for Easter weekend, you and I—with Mom if you want—will take some special time together and play tennis, go for walks, or whatever you want. I’m sorry this is such a mess. But I hope that’s a good enough answer for now. And I’ve just got to go, because people are waiting for me.”

  Katherine lowered her head and folded her arms across her chest, a tear hitting her right forearm when she did so. William handed her his handkerchief

  “Okay,” she said as she wiped her eyes with his handkerchief. “If that’s all we can do today. I guess it’s a start. I just want you to know that unless things change, this job may be wonderful for you, but I hate it. And I hate what it’s doing to our family. I hate my life. I hope whatever you accomplish as president is worth all the pain you’re causing us.” She handed him back his handkerchief and walked out the door without saying good-bye.

  The staff members who were
gathered outside the door of the Roosevelt Room made way for Katherine as she walked back toward the family’s private quarters in the main building. William noticed they looked somewhat embarrassed as he also came out of the room, looking for Barbara Morton. When he found her, he asked her to set up a meeting before the Easter break with his wife, daughter, and the Secret Service chief. With that issue temporarily settled, he walked quickly toward the Cabinet Room, reading his briefing report as best he could, to meet the delegation from the Mayors’ Conference.

  THE RESEARCH TRIANGLE, NORTH CAROLINA—This is incredible! Ed Cheatham was in the middle of the most enjoyable fantasy he had ever imagined. He found himself alone with three of the most beautiful young women he had ever seen, and they were taking turns making him very happy.

  I can’t believe this! For another fifteen minutes all of his senses were in complete overload, building to a crescendo that left him exhausted.

  When the fantasy ended he had to wait a few minutes for his heart rate to slow down to normal. Overwhelmed by how wonderful he felt, he slowly removed all the special equipment that was connected by wires to the computer in the adjoining room.

  He got up from the comfortable reclining chair in which he had actually been sitting alone during the entire experience, walked across the room, and opened the door into the control room.

  “Well?” his colleague, Carl Hess, asked with a smile.

  “You folks have really leapt light years during the past six months!” Ed exclaimed. “That was simply incredible. It was exactly like I was really there, though I can’t say I’ve ever experienced anything even close to that in real life.”

  “And that’s the whole point,” Carl added, obviously pleased that his boss appreciated the improved version his hard-working software team had created. He continued, “How much do you think an organization like Pet Girl International will pay us for the exclusive rights to distribute this product in the adult entertainment market?”

  “I can’t even imagine. They should go crazy over this. But,” Ed paused for a few moments to consider, “we’ll need the still unavailable PC-ZT with the 986 chip to mass produce a portable system. That’ll take over a year. But the board and I have already started the wheels rolling on a potentially even more profitable market—one that should be available right now.”

  Carl frowned slightly and asked, “What could be bigger than Pet Girl International?”

  Ed shrugged his shoulders and then smiled. “My girlfriend, Jean Bowers, teaches sex education in a Research Triangle high school. She’s always complaining about how rigid and unrealistic it is. We think we can ride the current wave of revulsion over AIDS and teenage pregnancy and offer a totally realistic but completely safe method of sex education for our public high schools.”

  “You mean put this equipment in a high school?”

  “I mean,” Ed’s smile broadened, “we’ve already won approval to test the concept in her school. Then we’ll obtain a government grant to put this equipment in every high school in America!”

  WASHINGTON—That evening the president and first lady were the official hosts at the Kennedy Center for the annual black tie Distinguished American Artists ceremony. It was late when they returned to the White House, and, after saying good night to the last Secret Service agent, they boarded the elevator to their private quarters and were alone for the first time since breakfast.

  On the elevator William turned to his wife, his arms stiffly at his side, his anger obvious. “Don’t ever suggest to Katherine that she come to see me during my work day, unless it’s a real emergency, or you at least call first. I was late and I was unprepared for a meeting with five of the most important men in the country, because you told her to bring her complaints to me.” As the elevator door opened he let her out first but continued his lecture to her back as they walked down the hallway to their bedroom. “I’m trying to cope with problems you can’t even imagine, and you send our daughter to whine about how she’s being protected!”

  At the door to their room, Carrie wheeled around and looked up at her husband. “Maybe I can’t ‘imagine’ your problems, William, because you never tell me about them. You used to, but you don’t now. Yes, I sent Katherine to see you—she’s our daughter and she had a problem that was important to her. Since it involved you, I thought you should deal with it. Maybe the timing was bad, but William I don’t have a clue about your day—or your problems. You keep both of us out of your life. Do you have any idea how that hurts me, William? And Katherine, too? She and I might as well move back to Raleigh. We’d both probably be happier, and I imagine you would, too. Would you, William? Think how much you could get done without us to cut into your day! Think of all the phone calls you could make and all the meetings you could attend and all the programs you could implement without a wife who just wants to love you and help you...”

  Her anger peaked, and she sighed heavily. Her shoulders slumped. “I’m not the enemy, William,” she added. “You may have more problems than I can imagine, but I love you more than you can imagine. I just want us to be in love again, William. You can be the president of the United States or a ditch digger, I don’t care. But I just want us to be a family again, sharing and trusting and loving. The rest doesn’t matter one bit to me any more.”

  She turned and walked into their large bedroom, leaving him standing at the door.

  William watched her starting to unzip her evening gown, but he didn’t move or say anything. She hasn’t talked to me like that in...years. First Katherine this afternoon and now Carrie tonight. He opened his mouth, about to give her an angry response. But he stopped himself. He felt terrible. Carrie had finally verbalized what he knew to be true but had only recently expressed to himself—that he had stopped communicating with her. What have I done to our family? Am I really this bad?

  For the first time in a long time William admitted that his wife of almost thirty years was right. She was still facing away from him, and he looked at her, really looked at her, as though it were the first time in...years? He couldn’t help being moved by her beauty. This woman must really love me to put up with so much from me.

  Carrie, having unzipped the long zipper on her gown, turned her head to look back at William. He could see the tears streaking her make-up. Her words had pierced him. Finally he walked toward her, and she turned to face him.

  He stopped a few inches from her. For a long time he was silent. Then he said, slowly, “I...you’re...I’m sorry, Carrie. I don’t know why...but you’re...you’re both—you and Katherine—are right. Why has it been like this? I’m...sorry. I’m going to try to be better—to communicate.” He gave her a smile tinged with sadness. “Please for...” He started over, unable to say the word forgive. “Please help me. I’ve been less than—I’ve been too busy. I’m sorry. Help me again be the husband you want. Be persistent, like tonight. I’ll try to be better—really!” He smiled again.

  She moved toward him, put her arms around him, and lay her head on his shoulder. It was her turn to be silent, thinking about what he had said. “I’ll try, William,” she said softly, “if you will. I tried years ago, but I finally gave up. You may not even remember. But, yes, I’ll gladly try again. All I want is—I hope you mean it, William, because all I want is us. And I don’t want to be locked out anymore. Can you open up again and let me know what your thoughts are?”

  He returned her hug and felt closer to her than he had in a very long time. “I’ll try, Carrie. I really will. I’m sorry. Yes, I’ll try.”

  She pulled back from him and looked into his eyes. Then he leaned down and kissed her. She opened her mouth and kissed him back, moving her arms up around his neck. He pressed against the small of her back and pulled her closer to him.

  It had been a long day, but the next hour was by far the best. They finally lay quietly in each other’s arms, having made love with the excitement of newlyweds, but with the intimacy of old lovers reunited after years of separation. Neither of them could bel
ieve how surprisingly intense it had been. But as William turned out the light, each of them silently wondered whether it could really last.

  2

  And can the liberties of a nation be thought secure when we have removed their only firm basis, a conviction in the minds of the people that these liberties are of the gift of God? That they are not to be violated but with His wrath? Indeed I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just; that His justice cannot sleep forever.

  THOMAS JEFFERSON

  Wednesday, April 11

  One Week Later

  RALEIGH—Mary Prescott stirred grated cheese into the grits simmering on the stove that morning and mentally checked off the things she had to do in order to leave for Washington on Friday morning for the long Easter weekend at Camp David.

  Mary still had a problem thinking of her younger brother as the president of the United States. Knowing his human faults better than most people, she had been praying daily after the election that the demands of the office would quickly bring out his many strengths, which she also knew so well. But as she moved to the refrigerator to take out the milk, she could not help thinking once again about how much she disagreed with him on so many issues. She believed that God had created everyone and everything, that he ultimately rules, and that good and evil are real forces competing for men’s souls. Governments should therefore, in her mind, only adopt systems with checks and balances that recognize man’s imperfect state, and laws that mirror God’s commandments and truly punish wrongdoing so that the majority can live in safety and peace.

  But William believed, she knew from their many discussions, just as their mother believed: People weren’t innately evil. They were just uneducated, impoverished, or in need of a better government program to train or to improve them. So it followed, according to William, that by themselves men could educate and reason their way to a better life, particularly if the right “enlightened” people were in charge. He believed it was the government’s responsibility to implement programs that make men and women better, more equal, and more productive.