“Sweetheart, no,” Ina hollered. “Mommy loves you! I love you, and I am so sorry for all of this. You didn’t have to die! God, why would you take my child from me?”
I slowly stood to go and console her, but my legs were too weak. I fell back on the pew and twisted my tense neck from side to side. Secret Service agents approached me, but I lifted my hand as a signal for them to back away. My leg shook faster; I couldn’t control it. All I did was rub it, and when I felt someone’s hands touch my shoulders, massaging them, I turned my head slightly to the side.
“It’s okay,” Raynetta said in a whisper. “I got you, baby. You’ll be fine. Joshua will be too, and Ina.”
Seeing her and hearing her voice calmed me. So did her touch. My leg stopped shaking. When she came around to the front of the pew, she sat next to me. She took my hand with hers and didn’t let go until the funeral was finally over.
First Lady,
Raynetta Jefferson
I felt horrible for Stephen. Even for Ina. I wasn’t about to let him go through that alone, and it was such a relief to have the funeral behind us. Stephen’s attitude, however, hadn’t improved much. He was back at the White House, trying to run a country that needed some serious direction. The incident with the soldiers had nothing to do with terrorism. It was an accident, but the loss was felt all over the country. Emotions ran high, and after the fiasco that happened in front of the church, all kinds of hurtful things were being said about Stephen. If they didn’t say he belonged to a gang, he was now referred to as the new thug in chief in the Oval Office.
Today he was scheduled to respond to the American people about all that had happened. In an effort to stay out of his way, I sat with Claire in my office, waiting for him to speak. I had no clue what he was going to say. But I was sure that he’d been thinking long and hard about it.
“Why am I so nervous?” Claire said, pacing the room in a tight black skirt and a silver blouse. “This is really a big moment, because the president has lost a lot of support from the American people. Why aren’t you as nervous as I am?”
“I am—a little. But I know my husband. He is a bright man, and he knows how to change things around quickly. People have a connection with him. They are drawn to him, and when he speaks, even if you don’t agree with his words, he makes you think and listen.”
“His connection may have a lot to do with how handsome he is too,” Claire noted. “Take that as a compliment. I’m just telling you what I hear from other people.”
I playfully rolled my eyes at Claire. She finally sat down, and then she started to gossip about what Stephen had done to Teresa.
“I don’t know if you’re aware of all the details, but from what I heard, it was brutal. Have you spoken to your mother-in-law?” she said.
“No, I haven’t. I’ve barely spoken to my husband. What exactly have you heard?”
Claire started to tell me everything she knew. I almost couldn’t believe it, but it had to be the truth, because all of Teresa’s belongings were gone.
“I can believe that he made her get out of here, but I’m having a hard time believing that he dragged her down the steps like a rag doll. Sounds like some people may be exaggerating,” I said.
“No, they’re not. I spoke to someone who saw everything. The president was livid, and she’s in a mental institution until he gives the word to release her. You know the president much better than I do, but I think she’s going to be there for a long time.”
“I hope so. And when you get a chance, let me know where she is. I may need to make some phone calls, or better yet, I just may go see her. I’m sure she’ll love to see me. I can’t help but to think how God was so right when He said He’ll make your enemies a footstool.”
Claire nodded. “A footstool she will be, and for the first time, I think she’ll be happy to see you. I could be wrong, but I’ll be sure to get that information for you. Now hush. The president is about to speak.”
We laughed, then silenced ourselves as we tuned in to the TV. As always, Stephen started with a stern look on his face.
“Good evening. First and foremost, my condolences go out to the family members of the seven soldiers killed in the plane crash. It is very unfortunate that this happened, and it is always a tragic loss for this country when we lose great men and women who continuously take risks and who are committed to keeping our country safe. I’m looking forward to visiting with some of our troops soon, and I want each and every one of them to know that I am a president who cares deeply about their needs, concerns, and well-being.
“I will listen to the advice of generals on the ground, because it is important for us to strengthen our armed forces and pursue a mission that can and will destroy any terrorist organization created to do us harm. In an effort to cripple them, we will hunt and kill their leaders. Our strategy will be bold, swift, and fierce. We will not back away from any threats, and if ever given the opportunity, I will, as your president, use my bare hands to bring any of these leaders to their knees.
“Many of you have heard about the events leading up to my son’s death. Not many people know the specificities of what actually occurred or what led him to become radicalized. I know, and I will make no excuses for anyone who threatens to do harm to America. We must, however, be unified in our efforts to speak up when we see or hear things that revolve around terrorism. And when it comes to our children, all our children, we have to create a country where they, along with everyone else, feel as if they are treated equally and fairly. We’ve ignored what is happening in our country for far too long, and the utter silence should not be.
“As president, it is time for me to act. That is why I will expand on a previous executive order to confiscate military surplus equipment from police departments across the country. The new order will result in the immediate termination of any officer who kills a man, woman, or child, of any race, who did not have a weapon on the scene. A thorough investigation will be done by the Department of Justice, and within thirty days—not one or two years later—they will determine if the officer should face a grand jury with special prosecutors leading the case.
“In addition to that, and in a separate order, we will proceed once again to release numerous individuals from prisons who have been incarcerated for years due to minor drug charge violations. The initial order lost traction, and it is time for many of these men and women to be united with their families, who need them. There are too many broken households in America, and for years, an unjust judicial system has contributed to the mess we now have on our hands. I’m well aware that many of you won’t agree with my decisions, but get used to it, because real change has come.
“Lastly, I owe all of you a deep and sincere apology for what occurred at my son’s funeral. I should have conducted myself better, but when you’re under so much pressure and someone attacks your child, it hurts you to the core. I don’t care who they are or who they become. They are still your child, and some things are better off left unsaid, especially words like nigger, which continue to cut real deep. Nonetheless, please accept my apology. I won’t be taking any questions tonight, because I may be forced to say something harsh to the reporters who refer to me as the new thug in chief. To those, I say, ‘Kiss my ass,’ and that is putting it nicely. May God bless America, and may you all have a peaceful evening.”
Claire released a deep breath; so did I. She looked at me with wide eyes. “Oh my God. I can’t believe he said that. L-let the spin begin. I don’t know how people will feel about those executive orders, but I can assure you that the police union will fight back. I’ve also never heard the president apologize to anyone, and he actually used the N word. He also said he would kill someone with his bare hands. I don’t know how people are going to respond. My feelings are all over the place.”
“After Stephen has made up his mind, he really doesn’t care how anyone feels,” I said. “I suspect that after the Millennials Summit, he’ll be overseas for several days. I’m so worri
ed about him, and my only wish is for him to succeed in every way possible.”
“I wish the same. And I don’t mean to bring this up, but are you also worried about him reverting to his old ways? You said he wants you to leave the White House, but does he really feel that way?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, because he hasn’t said much to me. He’s been sleeping in another room, avoiding me. And to answer your question, yes, I do worry. I worry because women will always be women, and when Stephen is like this, he is vulnerable. He’ll never admit it, but I know my husband, sometimes better than he knows himself.”
Saying those words caused me to exit my office and go find Stephen. There were a lot of snakes in the press briefing room, and I was sure that Michelle Peoples had taken her seat up front. She was a reporter who had her eyes set on my husband. I sensed that he had taken a liking to her as well, and sure enough, as I made my way down the corridor, I saw her speaking to Stephen. In no way could I hear what she was saying, and as others surrounded them, I stood on the tips of my toes to see if I could read their lips. Unfortunately, I couldn’t. When Stephen turned to walk away, I slipped into another hallway so he wouldn’t see me.
I hated being so insecure like this, but with the recent mistakes I’d made, I wasn’t so sure if Stephen would forgive me. I think the money I had taken from Mr. McNeil hurt Stephen more than anything. Maybe it was time to return it. Then again, telling him that I didn’t want to have a child was probably gut-wrenching too. Of course he wanted a child, even more so after what had happened to Joshua. I thought about compromising, but if he wasn’t willing to talk to me, how would we be able to set ourselves back on the right track? Maybe space was what he needed. I intended to give him that, but I also intended to keep my eyes and ears open.
President’s Mother,
Teresa Jefferson
I hadn’t a clue what day or time it was. But I did know that I had been brought to this place against my will. No matter how much I put up a fuss, my chances of getting out of this hellhole were slim. Every time I opened my mouth about leaving, they would rush into this room, shoot me with a needle, then leave. I learned quickly to contain my yelling; after all, I was not the crazy bitch that everyone had made me out to be. I was upset about my grandson. If what Stephen had said was true, I needed to know. This was killing me, and no one was willing to discuss anything with me.
The room I was in was frigid. I wrapped a blanket around me before getting off the bed. It was a twin bed and was surprisingly comfortable. A rocking chair was in the room, along with two long bookshelves full of books. There was no TV, no window. A fluffy yellow rug covered most of the floor, and the walls were painted a bright green. Inspirational quotes were scripted on the walls; I assumed they were there to inspire people like me who supposedly needed help. Well, I didn’t need help. What I needed was a doctor. My back had been hurting ever since Stephen dragged me down those steps. I couldn’t believe what he had done. I was his mother, and I couldn’t wait to tear into his ass whenever I got out of here.
With the blanket still around me, I walked to the door to push a button next to it. It was there to buzz the nurses for assistance, and shortly after I pushed it, a nurse came into my room. I’d had a few altercations with her already, only because I didn’t appreciate the way she spoke to me. She was sloppy and fat. Cheeks were always red, and her white uniform was too tight. Her ankles looked like they had been baking in an oven, and her blond hair was in a messy bun on her head.
“What do you want?” she said with a snippy tone.
“What I want is to call my son. I haven’t been able to speak to anyone, and I’m sure that’s against the rules around here.”
“Your son’s name is not on your call list. I told you that before, but you refuse to listen.”
“Aren’t I the one responsible for creating my own call list? I should know who I want to speak to, shouldn’t I?”
“Look, lady. I’m just following orders around here. There is no one on your call list, so you can’t use the phones. Now, is there anything else?”
“Yes. I’m starving, and I would like a juicy steak, a potato, and some buttery Texas toast. A glass of wine would be nice too. I’m sure with the money my son is paying to keep me in this place, that kind of meal should be possible.”
She laughed and shook her head. “No, it’s not. But dinner will be served in about ten minutes. If you would like to join the others in the lounging area, feel free. It’s better than being cooped up in here, talking to yourself all day.”
“I haven’t been talking to myself, and there is nothing that you can say or do to label me as crazy. I will join the others for dinner, but before I return to this room, can you please raise the temperature? It’s cold in here.”
“It feels just fine to me.”
“That’s because you have a mass of fat on you keeping you warm. And spray something refreshing in here too. A real bad odor came in with you, and it’s going to take something strong to get that awful smell out of here.”
The nurse stood with a smirk on her face, pretending not to be moved by my harsh words.
“Go have dinner, sweetie. When you come back, this room will be to your satisfaction.”
“It better be.”
I left the room. Unlike some of the other patients in here, I didn’t have to be escorted around. I walked around freely, but there was no door through which I could exit the building. All the doors were locked. The windows were bolted. Security could be seen everywhere, and the busiest place in here was the lounging area, where many of the patients ate, played games, and talked. I hadn’t spent much time in that area, only because I had been trying to stay to myself. But the truth was, it was getting pretty lonely in that room. I needed to converse with someone, and maybe someone knew something about what was happening at the White House.
Right before I entered the lounging area, I saw a man standing next to the double doors, facing the wall. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, until I got close enough and heard him counting.
“One thousand and six, one thousand and seven, one thousand and eight . . .”
“Mr. Jenkins,” a male nurse said, heading toward us. “It’s time to go back to your room. Stop counting bumps on the walls, because there are no more.”
Mr. Jenkins ignored the nurse and kept counting. The nurse didn’t appreciate being ignored, so he yanked Mr. Jenkins’s arm and pulled him in another direction. I started to intervene, but Mr. Jenkins laughed loudly and kept on counting. The only thing that silenced him was the nurse clamping his hand over Mr. Jenkins’s mouth. He bit the nurse’s hand, and that caused me to laugh and mosey on into the lounging area to mind my business.
A food buffet was to the right in the room, and servers were there to dish out food to the individuals waiting in line. There were numerous round tables in the center of the room, and several huge windows allowed bright light to come in. A few security guards were here and there, so were several nurses and doctors, who were tending to patients. The room was rather noisy, and when I said there was a bunch of crazy-looking folks lurking around, I wasn’t lying. Stephen was going to pay for this.
But until I could get out of here, I had to eat. I waited in line to get my food, and after being served honey ham, a few pieces of chicken, mashed potatoes, and corn bread, I found the nearest table and took a seat. Two other people were sitting there. They smiled and watched me as I started to eat. I guess they knew I would frown. The chicken was cold, the ham had too many pieces of fat, and the corn bread tasted like cake with no sugar. I pushed the plate away from me, causing the frail white woman across from me to laugh.
“You shouldn’t come here to eat. The only reason you should come here is to play bingo,” she said.
The other lady at the table waved her hands wildly in the air. “Yay, bingo. Let’s play bingo.”
The bingo cards were placed on the table. I told them I didn’t feel like playing, but a card was still placed in fron
t of me. Red chips were spread on the table, and before I knew it, the lady across from me started calling out numbers.
“B-five, B-thirteen,” she said, looking at the numbers on her card. She was cheating, so I pushed my card away from me. She opened her mouth wide, looking offended. “You don’t want to play?” she asked.
“Not with cheaters. No thank you.”
She pouted, then crossed her arms in front of her. “I . . . I’m not cheating.”
“Yes you are. You’re calling off numbers from your own card. Of course you’re going to win.”
“No I’m not. Why are you lying on me?” she replied.
I didn’t have time to argue with this bitch over a stupid bingo game. It wasn’t that serious, but for her, I guess it was, because she started crying and pointing at me.
“She . . . she’s lying on me, and she won’t play with me. Why won’t you play with me?”
The other lady reached over to console the crying woman. Both of them mean mugged me, as if I had really done something wrong.
“She doesn’t want to play with us, because she’s a mean woman, just like her grandson was. You are not better than us, lady, and I . . . I know who you are,” said the lady who was doing the consoling.
This woman, who appeared to have the most sense, now had my attention. The other one kept crying about my refusal to play bingo.
“What do you know about my grandson? More to the point, what do you know about me?”
The stupid heifer stuck her tongue out at me. My blood was boiling. The crying woman started to throw a fit about the stupid bingo game, causing many people in the room to look in our direction.
“She won’t play!” she shouted and pounded her fist on the table. She was hollering as if I had just stabbed her with a knife. Tears poured down her face; she was so mad that she started throwing the red chips and cards at me.
“Macy!” one of the nurses shouted. “Stop that now! She doesn’t have to play bingo with you! Find someone who wants to play.”
Trouble in the White House Page 9