by Adrien Leduc
"I know. I can't believe it."
"It's so sad."
"Tillman...Axelrod was in on it. And we didn't stop it."
"We couldn't stop it, Jon. How could we have known?"
Jonathan shook his head angrily. "We should have seen it coming."
"No one could have seen that coming. An Opposition Leader murdering a Prime Minister?"
He sighed. "It does seem pretty crazy, doesn't it?"
They sat in silence for nearly ten minutes before finally a security guard told them it was time to leave.
"Dinner at ours tomorrow?"
Alexandra smiled. "That'd be nice."
- 11 -
Backyard B.B.Q. at the Tremblay residence. Saturday afternoon.
"I think Martin might like the ketchup, Lacey," said Lorena Tremblay as she passed around the bag of hamburger buns.
"Sorry. Here you go, Martin."
"Thank you. And thank you all very much for having me this evening."
"Oh, it's our pleasure," Calvin Tremblay beamed, clearly honoured to have the assistant to the former Union Party leader and Prime Minister of Canada in his backyard. "How is everything? Can I get you another beer?"
Jonathan watched, happily, as Martin smiled and waved his hand. For once he finally seemed to have given his mourning a rest.
"No, no. Everything's delicious. Thanks."
"Don't mention it. Any friend of the Union Party is a friend of ours."
"Dad, how come you never ran?"
"Ran for what? Election?"
Lacey nodded. "Yeah."
"I don't know," he said, glancing at his wife. "Sweetheart - how come I never ran for election?"
Lorena Tremblay smiled a knowing smile. "Because I wouldn't let him. We were new parents when we were married and I couldn't have let your father take such a busy and stressful job."
Calvin banged his hand on the table. "And there you have it."
"It's not too late now, dad," said Jonathan, taking his hand back from Alexandra so that he could eat. "Lacey and I are grown - mom - you're busy with work and your cancer fundraisers - maybe dad should run in the next election?"
His remarks brought a moment of contemplative silence to the table.
"When is the next election, anyway?" Lacey asked, dipping her hamburger in mayonnaise.
"How can you eat that?" Jonathan asked, cringing.
"What? I always have mayo with my burgers."
"I know, but...gross."
Lacey shrugged and turned to Martin. "So when is the next election? Maybe I could run."
Jonathan rolled his eyes and suppressed a laugh. To his surprise, Martin didn't seem to find her question as amusing.
"Well, Court has said that he'll call an election four weeks following the leadership race. That'll allow the party to come together - leadership races can be quite divisive as you probably now - and regroup before hitting the campaign trail."
"When's the leadership race?"
"It starts the first week of November," said Alexandra.
"So the election would be sometime before Christmas?" Lacey asked.
"I suppose it would be," Martin answered, taking a sip of his Corona.
"Well, maybe I will run," said Calvin, bobbing his head as he pondered the idea.
"Go for it dad."
Calvin looked at his son, grinning. "I'd have to distance myself from you, you know? After that stunt you pulled."
Jonathan returned his dad's grin. "Yeah..."
"Oh, Cal," said Lorena stiffly. "When are you going to let that go?"
"Young Jonathan here did a great service to his country, Mister Tremblay," Martin interjected.
Jonathan tipped his head at the grey-haired man. "Thank you Martin."
Calvin Tremblay pretended not to have heard Martin's comment. "Yes, but he embarassed his family in the process."
"Country over family, dad. That's the public servant's way."
"You're just mad he had you fooled," said Lacey, bolstering her brother's defense.
Calvin shrugged his head from side to side before finally appearing to come to terms with the matter. "Yes. I suppose you're right. I think I was less upset by the fact my son had crossed the floor - and to the Reform Party - of all Parties he could have chosen! Anyhow, I was less upset with that and more upset with the fact that he didn't feel that he could let me in on his secret."
At this he stared across the table at his son, his eyes asking forgiveness.
"It's alright, dad. I knew why you were upset. And if anything it showed me that you have a lot of respect for me. You have to have respect for someone before you can lose respect for someone. Am I right?"
"Awww," Lorena Tremblay gushed. "This calls for a toast. Lacey, go and get the champagne from the liquor cabinet, would you?"
"The one from your wedding!?"
The woman nodded, her face shining, and her cheeks glowing. "Yes. I think so."
Jonathan's condo. Tuesday afternoon.
"Six thousand four hundred and twenty-two."
"What's that, babe?" asked Alexandra as she curled up with her Chihuahua, Maxwell, on the loveseat.
"Six thousand four hundred and twenty-two. The number of soldiers killed in the Great War," Jonathan answered, unfurling the newspaper and laying it out on the coffee table.
"Wow."
"Yeah."
"That's not a very high number."
"No, it isn't."
Alexandra scratched beneath her dog's chin, causing the young pup to thump his hind leg furiously. "Especially when you consider that this was the Great War. I mean, all my sympathies those who lost their lives - "
"But it's a small number in comparison to wars from the past," Jonathan said, finishing her sentence. "Yeah?"
"Exactly. I mean, I read something once that like more than thirty million people died in World War One."
"Right."
"So, six thousand and, what was the number?"
"Six thousand four hundred and twenty-two," Jonathan repeated, turning the page and scanning the rest of the article. "And even though we won, the Defense League agreed to honour Abu-Ishak's terms of victory - minus the keeping the hostages bit of course."
"So what does that mean?"
"It means...it says here," Jonathan began, "that the Allied powers have agreed to suspend all military operations and withdraw all army personnel from all territories owned by member nations of the Malsma Confederacy. The newly-formed Malsma Confederacy comprises Morocco, Libya, Egypt, Syria, Sudan, Pakistan, and Liristan. In addition, the Defense League, of which all the Allied nations are a part, has agreed not to intervene in any matters of a political nature - nor to send troops into - member nations of the Malsma Confederacy."
"Sounds like carte blanche for the dictators."
Jonathan shrugged. "You can't win 'em all."
"No, you can't," Alexandra agreed, tickling Maxwell's snout with the end of her finger. "Speaking of winning, did you hear that Martin's leading in the polls?"
"No! Really? I didn't even know he was running!"
Alexandra grinned. "Yup. And guess who he's asked to be his campaign manager?"
Jonathan gaped. "No! You?"
She nodded.
"That's amazing! I can't believe it. You do realize that if Martin wins the leadership race and the Union Party wins the next election, that you'll end up being his assistant."
Alexandra smiled. "I'd thought of that."
"Those are some big shoes to fill."
"I know."
EPILOGUE
(Seven years later)
University of Ottawa campus. Bright, and sunny convocation day. June 4, 2055.
"Thank you, Madame Chancellor."
Jonathan shook the hand of the University of Ottawa's chancellor and then made his way purposefully towards the podium. Adjusting the microphone, he stared out at the audience. There were his mom and dad. And Lacey, playing with her phone as usual. Beside her were Alexandra's parents, Ted and Alice,
both looking as suburban and conservative as ever. Alexandra, was seated in the front row, her legs crossed and looking forwards.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Honoured guests. I stand before you today as the valedictorian for the class of twenty fifty-five. Seven years I've toiled. Seven long and grueling years. And finally, after more than two thousand late nights spent finishing essays, after more than an equal number of coffees, after countless hours spent in class and at the library, I'm here. We're here. To celebrate this shared victory. Sharing in my own victory are, first and foremost, my beautiful wife, Alexandra. Some of you may know her as our current Health Minister."
There were several chuckles in the audience and Jonathan waited for them to subside. "My family is also here to today to help me celebrate on this beautiful convocation day. Mom. Dad. Lacey. I couldn't have done it without ya."
Several "awws" rippled through the crowd and Jonathan even saw a few women dab at tears.
"But. Ladies and gentlemen. Honoured guests. Before I present you with your class of twenty fifty-five, I'd like to take a moment to remember an old friend. And that friend is former Prime Minister, Alistair Tillman. He isn't here today - and if he were - I might still be on the Hill. I might never have made it to university."
Jonathan paused to swallow the knot in his throat.
"It was a sad time in my life when he passed - and I know others felt the same way," he added, glancing at Martin who stood in the corner with several other Union Party M.P.s. and their bodyguards. "But, life goes on. And Alistair Tillman wasn't one two wallow and dwell on the past and on things that couldn't be changed. And so, in the spirit of renewal and new life, I would like to present to you - along with my wife," he added, motioning to Alexandra, "the latest edition to our beautiful campus, Tillman Tower."
And with that he yanked the silk sheet from an easel that held the concept plan for the new building. A massive round of applause followed by hoots and hollers and Jonathan had to wait several minutes before he was able to speak again.
"I am happy to announce that the university will begin contruction of the Tillman Tower this coming Fall with an expected completion date of Spring twenty-fifty eight. This fifteen storey building will become the new home for the School of Public Administration and will also house a new library. With that, ladies and gentlemen. Honoured guests. I present to you your class of twenty fifty-five - "
And before he could say another word, his classmates had picked him up, hoisted him onto their shoulders, and begun to bounce around. Music followed - as did pictures and fancy hors d'oeuvres - and a hundred and twenty new lawyers and their families headed to the Ottawa Convention Centre for one of the biggest bashes Jonathan had ever seen.
The End
About The Author
Originally from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Adrien Leduc makes his home in Ottawa with his fiancée and their two crazy cats. He is a graduate of Carleton University (BA ’10) and is passionate about Canadian history. An avid reader and writer, Adrien hopes to write and publish many more books in his lifetime. Back To The Bronze Age is his sixth novel.
Other Works By The Same Author
Be sure to check out Adrien Leduc's other titles:
• A Place To Call Home
• The Dumnonian Hoard (A Rosenberg Twins Adventure book)
• The Good Servant
• Moshe
• Godfrey (Book One)