Out of Crisis

by Richard Caldwell

  As she started playing the processional music, “Lord, Here We Are Again,” the choir began marching in, led by an associate pastor carrying a cross mounted on an eight-foot pole. When the procession took its place at the front of the sanctuary, the associate pastor said an opening prayer and asked the congregation to take their seats.

  Pastor Larson got out of his chair and took his place behind the pulpit. “Brothers and sisters, welcome to what will be a unique worship service, one the likes of which you have never experienced. I’m going to start things off a little differently today.

  I would like for the choir and our associate pastors to come down and join the congregation. If you can’t find an empty pew, just stand in one of the aisles. You as well, Sister Dorothea.”

  At his bidding, those sharing the stage with the reverend filed forward, filling the pews and clogging the aisles.

  Then the Reverend Doctor Bryan Larson began speaking: “It may have gone unnoticed by most, if not all of you, that today is the first Sunday after the first full moon, which occurred after the eruption of what is now called Mount Shoshone. You may ask, Why is that significant?

  “Over two thousand years ago, our precious Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, was crucified and buried. The third day he rose from the dead. You know that to be a fact. That is the very basis of our faith.

  “What you may not know is that in 325 CE, the Council of Nicaea decreed that Jesus ascended into heaven on the first Sunday after the first full moon occurring on or after the vernal equinox. This was based on interpretations from the book of Luke when the New Testament was translated from Greek to Old English.

  “In those days, the people didn’t have access to iPhone calendars and had to base their records on seasons of the year and celestial observations. At any rate, this was the same divine logic that directed me to select today, the first Sunday after the first full moon after the eruption, the final sign, to do what I have to do.

  “Ever since the United States destroyed the heathen North Koreans, I knew the time was coming. And I knew I had been singled out to do the Lord’s bidding.

  “As is written in the Gospel according to St. Matthew, ‘And ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. All these are the beginning of sorrows.’

  “The war with the DPRK was the first sign. The awakening.

  “I heard the voice which made no sound.

  “I have felt a spiritual presence at night, and when I was all alone.

  “I knew the time was near. The eruption, the earthquakes, and the thunderous sound which kept circling the globe have announced the coming.

  “The time is now!”

  The congregation sat motionlessly and stared transfixed as the tenor of the reverend’s voice rose to a crescendo.

  “Now, fall to your knees and prepare to meet thy maker!”

  Almost as one, the congregation dropped to their knees in reverent awe. As they fell in front of their pews and in the aisles, the Reverend Doctor Bryan Larson removed the cover from the remote control that he had placed inside the pulpit.

  He pressed the release button.

  The four cider jugs of foo gas dropped from their perch, crashed through the fiber ceiling tiles, and smashed on the hardwood floors below. The gasoline mixture fell over twenty feet, splashing all over the floor and onto the congregation kneeling in the last four pews. They paid little notice.

  Dr. Larson reached behind the cloth covering the pulpit’s storage space, grabbed his AR-15, and started firing at the people in the last row. The first tracer ignited the foo gas, and the screams began.

  48

  Washington, DC

  The day following the Tulsa massacre

  Hoping to enjoy a rare relaxing Sunday morning, the president and First Lady had just finished brunch in the White House family-residence dining room. David was halfway through the business section of the Washington Post when CNN was interrupted by a breaking news announcement.

  “This just in from our affiliate station, KJRH, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where there has been another mass shooting. Reporter Mandy Middleton is on the scene. Mandy, what can you tell us?”

  “Shane, I’m at The Streets of Gold Evangelical Church on Seventy-First Street on the east side of Tulsa. As you can see, firefighters are battling a raging fire at the entrance of the church, and the streets are filled with police and emergency vehicles. Apparently, someone started shooting inside the church during today’s early-morning worship service. Witnesses tell us there was a muffled explosion followed by continued fire from an automatic weapon.”

  “Oh my God, David, this is horrible!” Kelly gasped.

  David stared transfixed at the television screen.

  Mandy stepped away from a falling timber. “We just spoke with the Tulsa PD spokesperson, who confirmed numerous gunshot and burn casualties. There is no official word on the number of casualties or the status of the shooter. But based on what we are seeing, this could well be the worst massacre our country has ever seen.”

  “This is insane,” David roared. He leaped from his chair, the Post dropping onto the floor, his face morphing into a mask of rage. He glanced at Kelly and reined in his emotions.

  “Hold on, Shane,” Mandy said, cupping her hand over her earphone. “We’ve learned that the police have confirmed seventy-four dead and over a hundred wounded, some critically. These counts are sure to rise after emergency personnel gain control of the fire.”

  David’s eyes remained fixed on the TV. “Commanding officers have a maxim in the army: you are responsible for everything your people do or fail to do. I haven’t been at the helm long enough to change this country’s course, but I’ve got to start trying. It’s time for one person, and that’s me, to finally accept responsibility for this lunacy and put a stop to it.

  “It may be political suicide, but as God is my witness, I’m going to do something besides offer thoughts and prayers. Whatever it takes to end this madness.”

  Kelly stood and took both of David’s hands in hers. “I totally agree with you, sweetheart. It sucks that up until now, no president has given gun violence anything more than lip service. Just kicked the can down the road to the next guy. And now it’s in your lap. And that means it’s in our laps.

  “David, something occurred to me just now, one of those blinding flashes of the obvious. Do you recall telling me that when you were at the Farm, during that last election strategy session, Milt said that it would take a constitutional convention to bring about the changes in the Centrist platform?”

  David nodded slowly.

  “And do you recall him saying that it would take a disaster of biblical proportions to make that convention happen? Well, Mr. President, I don’t mean to sound the least bit flippant, but you’ve got your disaster. Two of them. Back to back.

  “As much as I hate to add to the burden that you’re already carrying, you’ve got to leverage this crisis. The intersection of these two events will be the only opportunity you will ever get of this magnitude. Use them as a force for good and create something that will move this country forward for another two hundred years.”

  David pulled Kelly toward him, kissed her on the forehead, then placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’re right, Kelly. Thanks for legitimizing what I was thinking.” He stared into Kelly’s eyes. “Things are going to get messy, politically speaking, but I take comfort knowing you’re in there with me. You are there with me, aren’t you?” David grinned.

  “Of course, I am, Mr. Grand Potentate.” With a hint of a smile, Kelly fired back, “Well, at least I’m pretty sure I am.”

  David muted the TV. “I’m going to call my chief of staff and have him s
chedule a cabinet meeting for first thing in the morning. I need to give them an overview of my plan of action. And I’ll have one by then. Then I’ll ask the CoS to arrange a news conference for tomorrow afternoon. I want the American people to know we’re not just sitting up here wringing our hands. Plus, I want to start getting the public on board while they are still as shocked and pissed off as I am.

  “The Second Amendment extremists will never come around. They’ll start screaming their ‘you can’t take my guns’ battle cry even though no one has any intention of taking their sacred toys.

  “I’ll try to send a positive message from the Executive Office, at least to those who will listen. But first, I’m going to secure Skype with Judson Ballard, Milt Freeman, and Elton Kirby, the current Envision president. Milt knows more about constitutional law than anyone I know. And he’s been waiting for this day since Sandy Hook. I’ll need Judson and Envision-2100 to start pulling financial and political strings at the state level. Your thoughts?”

  “You know where I stand, and I love watching you swing into action. I just hate that it had to come to this before a president had the huevos to stand up and do something. But I’m proud that it’s you!”

  “Thank you, Kelly. That’s all the encouragement I need.”

  An hour later, David and Mia Lopez were in the White House Situation Room. Milt’s and Judson’s images filled the giant split screen on the wall at the head of the conference table.

  “So, from a thirty-thousand-foot level, that’s what I’m thinking,” David said. “It took Kelly less than a millisecond to remind me that, as we discussed at the Farm, we should look for the opportunities brought about by these two catastrophes.”

  “You’ve got a sharp wife, Mr. President,” Judson said. “Tell me what you need from me, and I’m on board. What say you, Milt?”

  “This is a cookie, to use one of Nelson’s baseball terms—a pitch that’s easy to hit,” Milt replied. “Now, let me qualify that. It won’t be easy, by any stretch of the imagination. It will be the most onerous task anyone in your position since Franklin Roosevelt has chosen to take on. And it will most likely be a long, drawn-out dog fight. Frankly, I don’t see it coming to fruition during your first term of office. But as an old buddy of mine used to say about the lottery, you can’t win if you don’t play.”

  “Well, based on what I’m considering, I might not get another term of office,” David interjected. “So I’ll do what I know needs to be done; to hell with the consequences!”

  “That’s why we hired you, Mr. President.” Judson pounded his desk with his fist.

  “Agreed,” Milt said. “Now, as I stated at the Farm, the only way we will get our amendments enacted is through a constitutional convention. This has never been done in the history of our country.

  “Under Article Five, a constitutional convention can be called when formally proposed by two-thirds of the states. That’s thirty-four in case you’re an Auburn grad. To date, twenty-eight states have made application for a convention under Article Five. These applications remain in effect until they are officially rescinded by an individual state. Right now, we’re six states shy of getting the process started. We’ve got to focus on all the holdouts to make sure no one state feels neglected. However, I suggest we concentrate on the political heavies, initially California, Oregon, Washington, Virginia, New York, and Illinois.

  “There will be several parallel threads in our strategy. For example, there are no established rules for a convention. Many scholars, myself included, are worried that without some parameters, an Article Five convention could get out of control and potentially destroy the constitution that it’s trying to protect. We must establish boundaries. I suggest that it be convened only to address the specific changes we have on the table.

  “And we have to develop rules of order. There aren’t any. Not even recommendations about who the states should send as delegates or how many. Since one of our amendments deals with term limits, we damn sure don’t want them sending someone who is currently in office.

  “I could and will go on and on, but suffice it to say this will be a long, arduous process. You’ll kick it off with your news conference tomorrow afternoon. Then you and Mia can hit the bricks with another blitzkrieg and start whipping up support at the state level. Judson and the Envision-2100 members can start pulling corporate strings, and I’ll put together a legal team to draft up a charter around what I just presented. These are all recommendations, of course. I wouldn’t want to appear to be taking liberties I don’t have.”

  “This is perfect, Milt,” David said. “Precisely what I was looking for. Judson, make it happen. Mia and I will get things started on our side. I’ll have the chief of staff set up on-site and virtual status meetings. Milt, I’m going to assign the attorney general to your team in an oversight role. I don’t want anything coming back on any of us.”

  David stood up, facing the camera and everyone on the Skype call. Pointing at his friends and in the voice of an old-time tent revivalist, he said, “All right now, let’s go change the world!”

  Epilogue

  All across the United States of America

  After the event, out of crisis

  The physical scars of the Yellowstone supervolcano eruption would take years to heal, but they propelled global governments to action.

  What had once been an impotent climate change conference was transformed into a multinational organization with actual monitoring and enforcement power. The planet’s only hope was that it wasn’t too late.

  The eruption and the crisis that followed also propelled transformation in the US government. As Milt predicted, despite the herculean efforts of the president and vice president, it was three years before the requisite number of states filed their applications to convene an Article V constitutional convention.

  The convention was eventually scheduled for what would be the second year of President Stakley’s second term in office.

  As was fitting, the convention was held in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. President Stakley addressed the opening and closing sessions. Unlike the first and only other convention of its type, in 1787, it did not result in a new constitution. But it did produce a set of amendments to the existing time-honored and long-cherished document that mainstream Americans knew in their hearts was necessary to reunite the United States.

  And so it would be: the beginning of the beginning.

  Acknowledgments

  I dedicate this book and every good thing I have done or tried to do to my wife. She is the source of my strength and encouragement. She comforts me when I am down in the dumps and kicks me in the butt when I need to be motivated. I love you, Trisha!

  And a boatload of thanks and appreciation to my lifelong friends Jim Ledford and Roy Stafford and my brother-in-law, Kenneth Spann, for their assistance and encouragement. Also, a heaping helping of gratitude to my editor, Deborah Froese, who epitomized the concept of “there’s no such thing as good writing, just good rewriting.”

  © 2021 by Richard Caldwell

  All rights reserved

  First edition, 2021

  Printed in the United States of America

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No portion of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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  Out of Crisis | Richard Caldwell, author

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  Edited by Deborah Froese and Regina Cornell

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