Trouble in the White House

by Brenda Hampton

  “Answer me, please. Did he do this? Are you going to press charges? Are you going to tell the president about this? Are you in pain?”

  I ignored Claire, and when we arrived at the White House, she stopped at the security gate. She rushed out of her car and told security that we needed help right away.

  “The first lady is hurt,” she said, still panicking. “She doesn’t want to go to the hospital, but she needs to see a doctor.”

  I opened the car door and wobbled a little as I tried to stand. The security guard quickly called for help, and within a matter of seconds, several Secret Service agents, including Alex, came rushing toward me. Alex quickly picked me up as they all inquired about what had happened. Before Claire said anything, I hurried to speak.

  “A . . . a car jumped in front of us, and when Claire slammed on the brakes, I jerked forward and hit my head. Unfortunately, I wasn’t wearing my seat belt.”

  I was sure that Claire didn’t approve of my lie, but I didn’t know what else to say. If I told the truth, it wouldn’t do any good. Mr. McNeil would lie. I was sure that he would say I went to his house to cause trouble.

  “Call her doctor,” Alex said before rushing me inside. “And see if someone can get the president on the phone.”

  I definitely didn’t want Stephen to know about this. If I told him what had actually happened, that would send him over the edge. He would lose it, and I would feel horrible for bringing about more drama, especially when he was away, trying to handle business. But right after my doctor stitched up my cut, as I lay in bed, Alex came into the room. A cell phone was in his hand; he extended it to me. I put the phone up to my ear.

  “Hello,” I said softly.

  “What’s up?” Stephen replied. “Are you okay?”

  It felt so good to hear his voice. “My head hurts a little, but I’m fine.”

  “That’s good to know. I was going to be here for another two days, but I’ll cut it short.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I said I was fine. I’ll see you when you get here, and just so you know, I missed talking to you.”

  “We do have a lot to discuss when I get back, but until then, get some rest. I’ll see you soon.”

  Our call ended on that note. I gave the phone back to Alex; he put it in his pocket. As he sat on the bed, he shot me a look that showed much frustration.

  “I want to let you know that your little trick from earlier could have gotten me fired. I take my job very seriously, and it was ridiculous for you to pull a stunt like that. You could have been severely injured, you know. From this moment on, you will go nowhere without me.”

  “I apologize, but you must understand that I need my space sometimes. Claire and I had something very important to do. The last thing I wanted was for you to be tagging along. And as for me not going anywhere without you, whatever. I’ll be right here for the next few days, so don’t bore yourself by lurking outside of my door.”

  Alex straightened his glasses, raked his black hair back, and stared at me without saying a word. He was such a nerd, but he was very protective of me, and strong, caring, and . . . cute. He looked as if he wanted to get something off his chest. When I pushed, he said it was nothing.

  “Don’t hold back. If you want to keep chewing me out, go right ahead and do it. I’m a big girl, and I’m positive that I can take whatever you dish out.”

  He cut his eyes at me and then stared at me again. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay? It would really anger me if something happened to you, and just so you know, I think you’re a really nice and sweet person.”

  I smiled and teased him for finally saying something nice to me. “Aw, so you like me now, huh? I thank you for caring, and the last thing I want to do is make you angry. I promise not to leave like that again.”

  Alex patted my leg, which was underneath the sheet. “Get some rest. And don’t watch too much television, because it’s not good for you.”

  I laughed, then asked if he wouldn’t mind bringing me some extra pillows so I could prop up my head.

  “I’m not your maid,” he said while standing at the door. “If you want more pillows, call one of the helpers or go get them yourself.”

  He shut the door, but in less than five minutes, he came back and threw two fluffy pillows at me.

  “There. Don’t ask me for anything else until you’re ready to play by my rules. I have a feeling that you’re not good at keeping promises.”

  I showed my pearly whites and teased him again. “I’m not, but thanks for the pillows. I did, however, say I was sorry, and I meant it.”

  Without responding, he closed the door, leaving me at peace. I laid my head on the pillows, hoping that Stephen would come home soon, even though I hadn’t requested it.

  President of the United States,

  Stephen C. Jefferson

  My trip to visit the troops was extremely productive. I already knew how brave the men and women who served our country were, but to meet them up close and personal was more than an honor. They were overly excited about my presence at Camp Victory. The entire place was packed, and as I stood at the podium to speak, with a huge American flag waving behind me, I realized how much support I had. Nearly everyone took pictures, and when several soldiers shouted that they loved their president, it damn sure made my day. I signed autographs, took plenty of pictures, and toured as much as I could while I was there.

  I had an opportunity to meet with numerous soldiers who had been injured or had lost limbs during combat. It totally impressed me how they had remained so upbeat. After meeting them and seeing how the soldiers lived day by day, I told myself that I would never, ever complain again. I and members of my staff spent several nights in army barracks with the soldiers. We listened to them tell stories about what they had faced during combat, and we also listened to the many concerns they had about being away from their families for too long and about the lack of support they received from the government. The defense budget had been cut over the years, which was another one of those things where I needed Congress to step up.

  Due to what had happened with Raynetta, and because I had received a call about my mother leaving the institution, I decided to cut my trip short by one day. There was no telling where my mother was, but I didn’t have time to deal with her stupidity. As for Raynetta, I was worried about her. She had sounded as if she was okay, but she was good at putting up a front. After tonight, I figured it would be wise for me to leave, anyway. Things were about to turn real ugly.

  But before I left, there was one thing that I had to do. We had received notification from a member of a special forces team who had been on a specific mission for me that it was time to pay a visit. The armed forces team had captured not one, but two of the top leaders of the terrorist organization that had contributed to Joshua’s death. One of the leaders was dead, but the other one was still alive, and I couldn’t let an opportunity to come face-to-face with him go by.

  It was close to midnight when we tackled the rocky dirt roads and made our way to a compound that was surrounded by other houses in an urban setting. The compound stood out because it was approximately 4,500 square feet and four stories tall, it barely had windows, and it was topped with barbed wire. The structure was severely damaged. I could only imagine what the inside looked like.

  As soon as we hopped off the jeep, we headed inside. The inside was mostly dark, but a few lit candles here and there, gave off light. I couldn’t see everything, but from what I saw, the place was a complete mess. Mattresses were on the floor, newspapers were scattered everywhere, wires drooped above our heads, and the damp, musty smell tore into my nostrils. It was a good thing that I had on camouflage gear and black boots. Puddles of water were on the floor, and we could hear drips every few seconds.

  “I . . . I think it would be best if I stood by the door with Levi and the lieutenant,” Andrew said in a fearful voice. “You guys look as if you have this under control.”

  The atmosphere w
as a bit frightening, so I understood Andrew’s concerns. I had never entered a place like this before, either, but I felt safe with Levi, one high-ranking general, and a lieutenant.

  “This way, Mr. President,” General Stiles said. “Follow me.”

  General Stiles was an African American woman who was braver than any woman I had ever met. She had earned a lot of respect from the other soldiers; I definitely knew why. I followed her up a tight concrete staircase, and when we reached the third floor, we entered a small room with concrete walls. There was no window, no bed, no nothing. Two candles barely lit the room, but General Stiles’s flashlight helped me see. The terrorist leader was on his knees, with his hands tied behind his back. He had been stripped of everything, with the exception of a piece of cloth that was draped around his lower body. His coal-black hair was soaking wet. Beard was scraggly. Skin was sweaty and dirty. Face appeared swollen, and beady eyes showed no fear whatsoever. His eyes grew slightly wide when he saw me enter the room. Apparently, he knew who I was.

  I saluted the member from the special forces team, David Burrage, who stood close by the entrance. He saluted me back. He had a flashlight on his belt and a machete in one hand. He shined the bright light directly in the terrorist leader’s face, causing him to squint.

  “It is my pleasure to introduce you to the president of the United States, Mr. Stephen C. Jefferson. This is our gift to you, Mr. President. We told you that we would eventually catch him,” David said.

  The terrorist leader spoke with his evil eyes as he glared at me. He licked his dry lips, and even as I removed the machete from David’s hand, he did not flinch or attempt to move.

  “I’ve been practicing with one of these things.” I looked at the sharp blade, then swung the machete back and forth. I told myself that while I was in America, my hands would always stay clean. This, however, was no America. “Hope I don’t fuck up, but if I do, there are other options.”

  The leader started chanting multiple words that I couldn’t understand. He dropped his head back to look up. That was when I swung the machete like a bat, using all my strength to take that muthafucka’s head off, like I had witnessed him do in plenty of top secret videos I had watched. Unfortunately for me, though, his head did not detach from his body. It was hanging off, and that was when General Stiles lifted her boot and placed it on his chest. She removed the machete from my hand, lifted it high. In one clean chop, the job was finished.

  “That’s how you do it, Mr. President. After a little more practice, you should be fine.”

  “It was the blade,” I said. “And I do want my trophy.”

  I saluted both soldiers before getting the hell out of there. And on my journey back to the barracks to join the troops, who were already celebrating, I couldn’t help but to think that this world would never be the same. All credit would go to David Burrage. It would be reported that he was the one who had captured and killed two terrorist leaders. Without a doubt, we were proud.

  President of the United States,

  Stephen C. Jefferson

  I returned to the White House the following day. The American people were celebrating the news, and for the time being, more good things were being said about me. World leaders had been reaching out to me, and everyone was trying to get an interview with David Burrage, who had done such a courageous thing. I even boasted about his accomplishment during a brief speech.

  After the speech, I headed to my bedroom, where I was told Raynetta had been resting. I entered the bedroom, feeling slightly exhausted but very pleased about how my entire week had gone. I had to admit that I had missed Raynetta. When I saw her sitting up in bed, reading a book, it felt good to be home. While I was still uneasy about what she had done, I had somewhat forgiven her. She immediately laid the book down, then rushed out of bed to greet me. She threw her arms around me; I wrapped my arms around her.

  “I’m so glad you’re home,” she said, squeezing me tight. “I missed you, and congrats on what you did. I’m so proud of you. I know you had some tough decisions to make.”

  If only she knew. I surely would never tell—many people had no idea how many secrets presidents kept. Not even the first ladies knew everything, but it had to be that way.

  I backed away from Raynetta to examine the cut on her face. It was an ugly wound, but in time it would heal. I kissed the wound and then directed my lips toward hers. As we kissed intensely, there was a light knock on the door. I backed away from Raynetta to go see who it was. It was Levi.

  “Sorry to interrupt you, but Andrew needs to see you. He mentioned something about an important phone call that you probably wouldn’t want to miss,” Levi announced.

  I turned to Raynetta, who sighed. “I’ll be right here when you get back,” she said.

  “I shouldn’t be long. And pack your bags, because we’re going to Camp David tomorrow. We need a break from all of this.”

  Raynetta seemed happy about the news. I was sure she would pack right away. I followed Levi to Andrew’s office, and when we arrived, he informed me that the Pope had been waiting to speak to me. I felt some kind of way about it, considering what I had done. But in no way would I refuse to take his call. I took the call and listen to him condemn violence, all violence, he said, and then he prayed with me. He wished me well, but I had a gut feeling that he knew about everything that had happened behind the scenes. It was kind of scary, but maybe it was just me and my imagination.

  * * *

  The next day, Raynetta and I left for Camp David, a presidential retreat where since 1942 most presidents had vacationed. It was in a highly wooded area, and so it offered Raynetta and me the real privacy we needed. The four-bedroom cabin-like house was not as exquisite as some may have assumed. But the land at Camp David was breathtaking. It was very peaceful, and there was no way to get bored. From heated swimming pools to tennis courts to golf courses to bike riding trails, from horseback riding to skiing to ice skating . . . Camp David had it all. Several of our staff members, along with Secret Service agents, joined us, but they stayed in other cabins. We completely tuned them out.

  As Raynetta rested her head on my lap while on a swing that evening, we enjoyed the scenery from the upper terrace in back of the cabin.

  “This is what peace feels like,” she said, with her eyes closed, as the swing swayed. “I thought we would never see this day, and I hope that we are allowed just one or two days without something tragic happening.”

  “I hope so too, but don’t be surprised if you don’t get your wish.”

  Raynetta opened her eyes to look at me. She placed her hand on the side of my face and rubbed it. “I almost hate to ask this, but have you heard anything from your mother? It’s as if she just disappeared. I know you’re worried about her.”

  “I am, but I’m sure she’s okay. She’s very upset with me right now, and chasing after her is what she wants me to do. I do have someone looking into her whereabouts for me.”

  “I figured that much. Hope they find her before she finds you.”

  Raynetta laughed, but I didn’t want to discuss my mother. I leaned forward to give her a special kiss, one that she seemed to enjoy thoroughly.

  “Where did that come from?” She licked her moist lips. “You dug deep into the closet for that one, didn’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t say all of that. It was just a kiss.”

  “A very stimulating kiss that included more of your tongue. I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me, because you’ve been on cloud nine since you got back,” she said. “I saw you during the summit, and I was surprised by how engaged and happy you looked. Your demeanor didn’t have anything to do with Michelle Peoples, did it? She was there too, wasn’t she?”

  I had predicted that this was coming, and I was prepared to answer Raynetta. “Yes, she was there, but her presence had very little to do with my mood.”

  “Did the two of you talk?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did you do more than talk?”
>
  “If you want to know if we had sex, no, we didn’t. That’s the truth, so eliminate those thoughts from your head. And since you want to question me, I have some questions for you. My first question is, how did you really get that wound on your face?”

  I could feel Raynetta’s body get tense. She had no idea that I was already ten steps ahead of her on this. I couldn’t believe it when she looked me in the eyes and stuck with her lie.

  “It happened so fast,” she said, describing how Claire had quickly slammed on the brakes. “Next thing I knew, my whole body went forward. My head almost went through the windshield.”

  I looked down at Raynetta, her head still on my lap. I moved her long, beautiful hair away from her face, then touched the edge of the wound.

  “I need to tell you something,” I said, slightly irritated. “Claire’s car was inspected, and there was no blood on the windshield. I at least expected for it to be cracked, but it wasn’t. I asked Andrew to investigate your story a little bit more, and his investigation led him to Claire. I won’t tell you what she said happened, but I am going to ask you what happened to your face again. Before I do, let me say this. I take serious issue with a woman who constantly lies to me, for any reason. And if you continue to lie, you need to know that you are gifting me to women who are more than willing to do right by me.”

  Raynetta quickly sat up to face me. She had no choice but to come clean, but thanks to Andrew, I already knew that Mr. McNeil was responsible for the cut on my wife’s face.

  “I’m sorry, but I just didn’t want to tell you, because I know how you are, Stephen. I didn’t want any trouble, and all this craziness keeps pulling us down.”

  “Regardless, you should have told me. You shouldn’t have even gone there. Why can’t you stay away from him?”