Two Peasants and a President

by Frederick Aldrich

  Earlier, Molly had picked up a program that could purportedly teach Chinese to a dummy. It was their plan to sit together each evening for awhile and learn a new language. When he’d first brought Ping home to meet Molly, Virgil didn’t have the slightest thought of asking her to stay, but he and Molly had quickly fallen in love with that special dignity that was Ping. And there were three bedrooms in the house . . . only one of which was currently occupied.

  Actually, Ping already had a smattering of English from the days when she helped her son with his homework. It wasn’t much but it would grow, as would their Chinese. As she attempted to express thoughts with such limited means, Ping sometimes inadvertently said things that threw Virgil and Molly into paroxysms of laughter. An impish grin would unfurl across her face along with a trace of worry that she might have uttered something untoward.

  The aromas that wafted through the kitchen were only exceeded by the exquisite bouquet of flavors that greeted their tongues as Ping looked on apprehensively. She refused to take a bite of her own food until Virgil and Molly’s expressions told her what she needed to know . . . that the people who were treating her so kindly were enjoying her cooking. “Mmmm,” was the most frequently used word, if one could call it that, throughout the meal.

  Afterward, Ping had begun to wash the dishes by hand when Molly gently took a plate from her grasp and opened a door beneath the counter top. Another marvel from a land she had never dreamed of reaching was revealed to her. With the dishes safely in the machine, Ping looked a bit lost. Surely there must be more to it than that!

  Molly took her by the hand into the living room where Virgil was preparing to record a program from which he suspected Ping would find both happiness and melancholy. A network not much watched by those who despise the senator had assembled a montage from the series of interviews with Min, Ping and the other refugees, all of whom were being settled into homes in the Washington area. Ping had yet to watch her own interview, much less the others and she was both fascinated and horrified to see herself on TV. When she noticed that Virgil and Molly were giggling, she feigned outrage and said something in Chinese they couldn’t understand.

  As expected, the montage held both happy moments and sad for the new resident in their home. But when the tears flowed, they were mostly tears of joy for the fact that all were now safe and there would be no more Chinese warships to pursue them. There were, however, unspoken thoughts that passed between them that evening. Powerful enemies had been made on the journey out of hell, deeds done that would not soon be forgotten.

  ******

  The release of Brett from jail in Hong Kong was proving more troublesome than had been expected. China’s official position was that he had committed an assault which had severely injured a citizen. That the citizen had been involved in a horrific crime against Brett’s son and his bride seemed not to matter in the least. It was vintage China.

  In a further insult, the White House had insisted that Commander Moore be removed from his post at the Hong Kong Consulate. It seems that when the president demanded to know how the USS Hawaii had become involved, the secretary of defense admitted that Moore had notified a CIA agent in Tianjin who was also a Tianjin Harbor Patrol police officer as well as a member of the dissident community. The tiny transmitter that he attached to the Dawn Flower had been picked up by the submarine, as had the sound of the approaching frigate.

  The president became absolutely apoplectic when he learned that his own military as well as the CIA had intervened without his knowledge. What he failed to realize was that Captain Davis was a hero to many in the United States Navy and not everyone in government was willing to allow themselves to be used by China, especially when it involved so despicable a crime. Furthermore, all the apologies and bowing to countries that detested the United States had angered many Americans. It was felt in many quarters that this president did not really love his country and was determined to turn it into some sort of Marxist-Socialist state. Those who labeled any form of disagreement with the president as racism failed to realize how deeply this hurt Americans who were patriots with legitimate concerns, not racists.

  To the president, it was an act of treason. To his chief backers in the Boston political machine, it was an act of war. But their blind assumption that they could wield politics like a billy club, as they had done for decades in Boston, ignored a basic truth: most Americans are at heart fair-minded individuals. They have long resented the kind of voter intimidation, fraud and the rigged elections that in their minds characterize Boston politics, and they were finally ready to get up off their couches and fight to keep it from spreading to the rest of the country.

  A coup would probably be too strong a word for it. No one was about to be assassinated; no violence whatsoever was planned. Only a few liquor glasses and mugs of stale coffee would not live to see the dawn. Knives had been sharpened and targets painted on backs, to be sure, but real blood would not be shed. But by the time this chapter in American history was closed, a bright light would render some heretofore dark corners considerably less habitable for the corrupt politicians who dwelled there.

  That the CIA and the military had been instrumental in saving American citizens from a ghoulish fate in China was, like so many other so called secrets, soon leaked to the press. In a taste of what was to come, some of the president’s allies in the media no longer felt it was in their best interests to cover for an administration that had angered so many. They not only broadcast the story but also the growing allegations that the president had attempted to thwart the rescue of his own people in return for promises of continued investment from China.

  Furthermore, a vocal group of veterans began demonstrating against the detention of a former Navy Seal and American hero in Hong Kong. Soon not only the smart phone generation carried signs outside the Chinese embassy; they had been joined by the veterans in what became an almost comical mix of attire from medals pinned on chests to ornaments pinned on noses and lips.

  A president less blinded by ambition, seeing the forces arrayed against him, might have decided to change tack, but this president had never held the truth in high esteem and continued to do what he did most often – lie. That their president would so boldly misrepresent events in China that now appeared to most Americans to be incontrovertible fact angered them, and they became even more convinced that this man was so married to his ideology that he would sacrifice anything to attain it.

  China, in its boundless capacity for arrogance, seemed not yet to have grasped what was going on in the United States and decided to double down. They proceeded to convict Brett and sentence him to 15 years at hard labor. It was the straw that broke the panda’s back. Citizens on both sides of the aisle, as well as independents and those who usually didn’t give a damn found themselves not only cheering for but participating in the largest boycott in history. China promptly retaliated against the many American companies with branches or factories there, slowing deliveries of materials, ‘discovering errors’ in paperwork and licenses and hindering their businesses in every way possible. The trade war that no one wanted had erupted and no one knew where it would end.

  Business types everywhere have always wisely warned that trade wars harm everyone. So it was no surprise when jobs connected to the import and sale of Chinese goods began to be affected. But rather than simply adjourn to their couches and televisions and collect unemployment, many displaced workers began to band together to help each other and to find strategies to hold out against China.

  Food sitting idly in warehouses for future shipment by the UN to who knows where was distributed to food banks nationwide, thanks to quick action in Congress led by Senator Baines. Neighborhoods were pressured into ignoring covenants that prohibited the planting of gardens. Companies that during the downturn had hoarded vast amounts of cash now joined in the effort by employing some of that cash to hire people to help provide basic services that depleted city coffers could not. In return, they were promised future ta
x credits. Philanthropists and venture capitalists stepped in with strategic infusions of cash to keep the economy from cratering. Donations to charities that help those in need mushroomed. The rich, so reviled by the administration, now showed their patriotism by employing people in their areas to help maintain and repair infrastructure. Not since World War II had America pulled together with such unanimity.

  In a move that would further endear him to the public but not to the White House, Senator Baines introduced a bill to lower the income tax. It flew through the House. The Senate felt it had little choice but to pass it. The grand dream of a huge government expansion was now on life support. With neither the continued sale of Treasuries to China nor the hoped for expanded revenue from tax increases, the projected expenditure of future trillions and with it an insurmountable debt, had to be severely curtailed.

  It was, however, far from a rosy picture. To most economists, it was clear that the wave of volunteerism was but a finger in a crumbling dike. Jobs must produce goods and services that produce profit that in turn produces more jobs and more profit. In short, the economy needed to grow. Without sustainable growth a collapse was inevitable. While the American public, for the most part, continued to pull together in a magnificent display of selflessness, it was like a ship, that in spite of all its pumps, was still taking on water. The collective rage at what China had done, not only to American citizens, but to the economy and jobs would not alone be enough to avert a catastrophe.

  China, while certainly hurting from the effects of the trade war, remained obstinate. Its reserves of cash and saleable natural resources meant that it could weather the storm far longer than could the United States. Even Europe was feeling the pinch. Americans could no longer afford to buy its products and there was considerable resentment that Europeans were still doing business with China. This further dampened American appetites for European goods. The trade war now threatened to go global.

  Senator Baines, realizing that killing the disease might also be killing the patient, came up with a plan. It was an audacious gamble, but he could think of little if any downside. Holly, it turned out, had not only shown extraordinary spunk during her ordeal, but had also displayed it in a most convincing manner when she spoke in public. Baines and his friends arranged for Holly to speak on European television in an attempt to persuade Europe to pull together with America to combat a mutual threat. Any fool knew that China’s intent was to one day dominate everyone, not just the United States, so it would clearly be in Europe’s interest to form a block, that by its sheer size, could change the way in which China does business.

  Holly’s expression, when first told of the scheme, resembled a treed raccoon; the thought of speaking publicly in London, Paris, Frankfurt, Rome and Madrid was intimating to say the least. But like a treed raccoon protecting her young, she would take on a lion if that was what was required. The very corporation depicted in the ad that had galvanized so many young people agreed to provide a private jet for her trip and an expert from Toastmasters, the public speaking group, to coach her along the way. As the State Department stewed, the woman who overnight had become the United States’ most important diplomat mounted the steps of a Gulfstream jet, followed by her grandfather, husband and proud parents. Only her parents realized that she was still haunted by her ordeal and worried that she might break down in front of an audience.

  Once aboard the plane, the person from Toastmasters skillfully showed Holly how to avoid the ah’s and um’s that ruin so many speeches, even those of people who make their living in front of the public. Holly stood in the aisle of the Gulfstream, practicing her delivery, eye contact and gestures until they were second nature. By the time Heathrow was a laptop stow away, she looked at the smiling faces of her family, took a deep breath and prepared to step off the plane and into the light of more than a dozen cameras.

  No one, least of all Holly, could have guessed how Londoners would respond to her plea. These were people who had endured a relentless bombing, sleeping in subway tubes, nearly starved by an enemy to whom compassion was a sign of weakness. They understood the kind of courage that this young woman possessed, the determination to live when others would have given up, and they responded with great affection.

  Overnight, the number of protesters outside the Chinese embassy grew from handfuls to hundreds. ‘Invasion of the Body Snatcher’ T-shirts replete with a ghoulish caricature of the Chinese president blossomed all over the city. More importantly, an effective boycott of Chinese goods was soon organized. In a touching gesture, a young fan presented Holly with a T-shirt, on it the letters: ‘My Second Honeymoon will be Much Better.’ Her family stood beaming as she expressed her thanks.

  By the time Holly climbed the steps of the Gulfstream jet again, she had become a fearless speaker. Her innate enthusiasm and conviction, now honed to a fine point by a skilled speech coach, was a powerful force emanating from a compact, youthful body that detracted not at all from the effect. But in their diligence, the organizers of her upcoming appearances had widely publicized the schedule. That, in retrospect, would prove to be a tragic oversight.

  ******

  The sheer romance and majesty of Paris was impossible to ignore. It was simply the most beautiful city she had ever seen, which made focusing on the mission even more challenging. The speech was to be given in the courtyard of the Louvre where a striking, seventy foot tall glass pyramid resides. Ironically, it was designed by a Chinese architect, though by 1935 he had already left China.

  Due to the design of the original Louvre building, its entrance had been deemed insufficient structurally to continue to withstand the enormous number of visitors crossing its threshold every day. The pyramid provided a spectacular new entrance that first descended into a spacious mall beneath it and then up into the original Louvre building.

  By the time Holly arrived, a large crowd had gathered, her popularity in Britain having already spread to France. In as much as only two gendarmes were visible in the crowd, her military family took matters into their own hands. Raymond stayed nearby at all times, while her father, mother and the captain roamed the crowd looking for anything out of place.

  Holly looked absolutely stunning on this beautiful April evening, her white dress framed like a spring blossom by the sparkling glass pyramid gracing one of the most romantic edifices on the planet. Her speeches in London had imparted a confidence that enhanced her lovely, engaging smile. The Paris crowd had swelled since her arrival and stood in obvious anticipation of her words.

  “It started with a magnificent evening, much like the one we are enjoying tonight in Paris,” she began. “But what had been planned as a romantic cruise became a hideous nightmare beyond our imagination. No honeymoon cake would be served on that cruise. In fact, those responsible intended instead to carve my husband and me into pieces and to sell them to the highest bidder. Fortunately, the ghouls who kidnapped us did not bargain on a certain retired navy captain, who happens to be my grandfather and who pursued them all the way to the city of Tianjin.”

  “With the help of a group of very brave Chinese dissidents and a doctor who would no longer stand for what was going on in the most prestigious hospital in that city, my grandfather spirited us out of China on a wooden fishing boat belonging to a courageous Chinese family. The government of that nation, so fearful that the world might learn the dark secrets of Tianjin, sent its navy to stop us. Great warships bristling with guns and missiles fanned out across the Yellow Sea in pursuit of two American newlyweds on a wooden boat, intending to silence them forever.”

  As the crowd warmed to Holly, the captain and Jim moved around its periphery scanning faces or hands that might reveal someone who had not come to listen.

  “In what is perhaps our greatest disappointment,” Holly continued, “the White House and apparently the head of our own government chose to abdicate his responsibility to protect its citizens. Instead they elected to cover up this atrocity in order to protect their banker, China. They
made every effort to keep our brave Chinese friends from telling their story and, I suspect, would have returned them to China if our military and CIA had not come to our aid.”

  “Tonight I share this with you and with the world in order to protect those who bravely helped us from retribution from some in our own government.”

  Jim noticed a dark-haired young man who seemed nervous, this in an unlikely setting for a bout of nerves. Perhaps the man is ill; perhaps it is his nature to be timid and nervous; perhaps it is something else entirely. The former Navy Seal carefully moved closer, noting that the man’s hands were in the pockets of his windbreaker, this on a warm spring evening.

  “Tonight, I come to ask you a favor,” Holly said, “not for myself, not for my family, but for citizens everywhere who may not realize that China is undergoing an enormous military buildup, that China is leasing and buying enormous tracts in every corner of the planet, tracts that contain critical minerals and oil, resources that will one day be needed by all of us. I do not believe that there is any coincidence in these actions. I believe that it is part of their plan to one day dictate to the world.”

  “When their military is powerful enough, when they have gathered sufficient resources, I believe that they intend to show us what Mao Tse Tung meant when he said: “Power flows from the barrel of a gun.” I ask you all tonight to resist in the only peaceful way we have, which is by boycotting Chinese products.”

  Jim had slipped to within six feet of the nervous man when suddenly his shoulder jerked his arm upward, pulling a pistol from his pocket. As the ex-Seal charged forward, the barrel of the pistol came level with Holly and flame erupted from it in a bright flash. Holly went down as the second shot shattered a glass pane on the pyramid behind her. Jim’s hands surrounded the man’s wrist and the gun, but not before a third shot rang out, this time striking a young boy in the crowd.