“What?”
Watson, “So, if the Phelps friend dies as predicted, and the fire comes as predicted, what is suppose to happen next?”
Anderson, doing his best to enjoy his dinner again says, “I don’t know.”
Exasperated, Watson says, “The-the … you know!”
“No, I don’t know!”
Lowering his voice Watson says, “The president. The president!”
Officer Anderson sighs, “Look, Bruce, I wasn’t here when all that happened. I was at the academy; so all of this was just fading when I got home. I’ve never even seen the famous journal page.”
Utterly deflated Watson says, “I’ve only told you this about one hundred billion times!”
“Yeah I know, but I wasn’t really listening; kinda like now,” smiles Anderson.
Shaking his head, “Ha-ha-ha. And you we entrust with out safety.”
“Okay,” says Anderson. “So, according to the great prophecy what exactly is the date of this assassination.”
“It doesn’t say assassination, it just says he’s gonna die, and it says it will happen by the end of the seventh day!”
“Seventh day huh. When? Tonight!”
“Oh, so now you wake up!”
“Well, it’s just funny, ’cause they’ve assigned me to watch the road going to their home from seven to eight p.m.; apparently someone’s delivering something at that time, and I’m to see …” distracted by Watson’s expression, “that … they … get there– What? What’s with the face?”
Watson looks at him wide eye, full of hope; but Anderson nips it in the bud.
“No-no-no. I can’t let you come along, or know more, or be involved.”
“Aw, c’mon!”
“Forget about it.”
“What if they’re bringing the president to … you know, so the kid can tell him the prophecy or something? Oooh, what if that’s the only way the prophecy can be broken?”
“Okay, first, I doubt that I would be the only officer assigned if that were the case; and second– What?”
“C’mon Mark, you gotta let me be there, something’s going to happen, I just know it.”
The manager of the diner joins the conversation, arguing, “I hate to burst your bubble Commander, but I think the president is in Washington. It said that he would address the nation tonight on what’s happened in the Middle East.”
Still listening and slightly amused by their wonderings, Agent Pratt quietly leaves the diner and takes his meal out to his car, which is strategically parked across the street. He sets up a long-range laser mic to monitor the conversation in the diner and settles in to eat his dinner. Officer Anderson, is a wall of logic and reason, and appears to be the perfect balance for his pal Bruce Watson, who works primarily from emotion and vibe. It’s a most entertaining conversation for Pratt to follow. He text messages Agent Caldwell over at Phone Tools and tells him he’s on his way. ETA 8:30 p.m.. Moments later, when Officer Anderson leaves the diner, Bruce Watson does a clumsy job of secretly following him, meanwhile Pratt is virtually invisible as he trails them both.
• • •
The Market family marks their last hour of government occupation with the loosening of a couple of restrictions. As a favor to Mrs. Phelps, Reese allows them to turn on the TV in preparation to watch her favorite program, 60 Minutes. He also allows Robert to go to the restroom even though his escort, Agent Levy is not with him. Levy is over at the Phelps home, giving it a quick walk through as Lauren meanwhile prepares for departure. As it begins to snow, she slowly carries her items out to her car, while James stays as far away from her and that car as possible. Robert, whose mind is racing, begins to formulate an argument as to why he and Levy should be allowed to go to the office. The ticking of the stopwatch advertising 60 Minutes up next is like torture to him!
Lauren starts, “If I could have everyone’s attention. As Agent Hinton described earlier, I’m packing up to head out and will be departing shortly. The Secret Service has an assignment for me beginning immediately in Washington. Agent Reese will be the person making all decisions for the team. Agent?”
Agent Reese steps over, “Well, nothing much has changed really, only the protection assignments. I’ll be with Mrs. Market and James, Agent Levy, upon his return, will be assigned to Robert, and Agent Hinton will cover Joseph Market exclusively. Mrs. Phelps will return to her residence.” He, then looks at her with a smile and adds, “After her program concludes, and then the rest of us will begin our departure.”
Reese’s synopsis further fuels Robert’s plotting. He ponders intensely while the rest of the relatively low key group settles in to watch the broadcast with Mrs. Phelps. Joseph, sitting in his favorite chair, mutes the sound of the football game that is on ahead of it. It’s not a game that he or James would normally watch anyway. The chair that would normally holds his brother is oddly vacant, as he sits near the entrance to track Lauren’s every move. Joanna sits on the sofa with Mrs. Phelps and Mary; and Agent Reese, who just finished speaking with Lauren, joins them. Agent Hinton, as usual, is in the chair nearest the entrance, across from James. Robert is not sitting at all, but rather walking slowly back and forth behind the sofa.
Without even looking Joanna says, “Robert.”
“What is it sweetheart?”
“You’re pacing.”
“Am I?”
Hinton says dryly, “Yes.”
“Well,” says Robert; his sharp mind has hit upon a reasonable argument in his favor, “let me propose a concept.” He walks from behind the sofa over to where he can see everyone’s faces and continues, “Since Agent Levy is assigned to me,”
“Hey!” say Mary, Joanna and Reese as Robert steps right in front of the TV.
They wave him to the side, where he moves saying, “Sorry;” and continues, “Since Levy is assigned to me, and since when this whole thing comes to an end in about an hour, Agent Levy will be returning to–”
“Oh, boy!” interjects Hinton.
Robert pauses a second, then continues, “Agent Levy will be returning to the city. So, I was wondering, is there any reason why he and I couldn’t make our way to the city now? He gets to rendezvous with his other Secret Service guys at my office, I get to meet with my team, and, all the while I’m under protection by the agent assigned to me.”
The idea is really quite clever, and it shows why Robert Market is such a valued executive. In fact, for a few seconds no one can think of an argument against it. Hinton breaks the silence with “Wow! That’s some thinking you’ve got going on over there.”
Joanna, “Robert, you’re gonna leave us here tonight? Are you sure this is what you should be doing?”
Robert replies with the half-true, “Yes.”
Seeing right through him, she follows with, “You’re absolutely sure. As in, sure, sure!”
“Well, sweetheart, I mean,” he says with mild irritation, “I’m as sure as I need to be.”
Not wanting to undermine her husband, especially in front of company, and recognizing his tone, Joanna backs off saying only, “Alright.” But her disappointment is evident, so much so that Joseph says:
“Dad, I sure hope you prayed about this ’cause,” he goes over to the table to get another cookie and continues, “it sure seems kinda, like, the other morning.” Joseph refers to the argument they had, which Robert has already admitted was his fault.
He defends himself, “This is different Joe. And your mom knows that if she says no, I’ll accept that.” Everyone almost involuntarily turns and looks at Joanna, expecting her to say something. But she does not.
Only half listening, James says, “I don’t know, the whole thing sounds kinda …” He stops to see if Lauren is making her last trip out to the car and then says, “Why don’t we do a family court on this?”
Robert, “James, I don’t have time to–”
“With all due respect to your familiar political processes,” interjects Hinton, “um, the decision here is no
t up to you Markets, but rather us; the people the government hired to see to your well being.”
But then Agent Reese proposes, “To be honest, I don’t have any problem with him going to the city the way he described. In fact, it gets an agent back and off the clock sooner. Why not let them decide, as a family, what works for them, using—what was it, family court?”
“Oh, brother,” says Hinton.
James then calls out to Lauren, “Ms—uh, Agent Coles, we need you in here for a second.”
“What is it James? I’m really short on time.”
“My dad has petitioned to leave also, to go to his office. We’re convening family court.”
“I’m sorry James, I really don’t think I can–”
“Don’t worry, Lauren,” says Robert, “this won’t take but ninety seconds, ’cause that’s all the time I can spare.”
Looking at James face, then at her watch she says, “Crap! Okay, go ahead; get started, I’ve got to do one last check of my quarters; I’ll be right there.”
Robert Market forgoes his usual flourish, and simply says, “James Market, please state your case.”
James steps up, checking out of the corner of his eye to see if Lauren has returned. Meanwhile, Mrs. Phelps and Mary turn their attention to the proceedings.
Mary asks Mrs. Phelps, “What are they– How does this work?”
Mrs. Phelps smiles and says, “I’ve only heard Joanna tell of it. Apparently, this is how they settle family disputes, and everyone attending has a fair vote in the decision.”
“Really!”
James proceeds, “Mr. Market is seeking to abandon his family.” He pauses, expecting his dad to object, but no objection is entered. As he sees Lauren unbuttoning her coat and reentering the room, he continues, “Mr. Market is seeking to abandon his loving, needing family at their most desperate hour of need, in favor of his company, where he has dozens of trained experts to carry the burden in his absence—his emergency absence! I say that he should just trust God that they will do as he has trained them, and I believe this jury will agree that his poor family, under relentless threat of their very lives, needs him more!”
Robert cannot help but be a little impressed with his eldest son. He raises his hand to deliver a high-five as he passes to go sit down. Robert then stands up and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, I won’t try to manipulate you as my esteemed colleague just did, but rather state the facts plainly. It is true, my company has a team of sales men, but I am the head of that team. They are going into the biggest meeting in the history of the company tomorrow. This deal, should it be signed, would essentially fund our company for the next five years!” He pauses to let that sink in. “My plan is simple. I would ride into town still under the protection of my assigned Secret Service agent, and not just ’til eight, but until eight thirty tonight. I’d arrive a half-hour late, but rehearse with my team from eight thirty until ten; then go to my apartment in town, call my loving wife, and get a good night’s sleep. I’d get up and chair the pitch–”
“Hold on!” Interrupts Hinton, “I mean, uh, objection! How is it that you even know about an eight rehearsal?”
Robert looks at him; his eyes blink as he tries to think of how to answer.
Glaring back Hinton says, “Was there a part to don’t use the telephone or your cell phones that was hard to understand, Mr. Market?”
Backpedaling, Robert tries to explain, “I uh, um, happen to get a text message. I didn’t respond! I just read it.”
Reaching out his hand and motioning for Robert to hand over his cell phone, Hinton cuts his eyes at him and says, “The letter, rather than the spirit of the law, huh? Okay, go on with your court case.”
“I, uh. Yeah. Well, where was I?”
Joanna, “I believe you were about to explain how quickly you’d be back home where you belong.”
Robert, eager to be out of the spotlight says quickly, “Uh, yeah. After the pitch, I’d just collect my papers from my desk and return here—home—tomorrow, late afternoon to provide love and nurturing to my family. Uh, thank you.”
Joanna looks over to James and says, “Rebuttal?”
James, “Uh, no, I mean …”
Joseph says, “What about, lean not to your own understanding, and–and, there’s a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to–”
Robert Market intervenes saying, “Objection! Jury members cannot provide points for cross-examination. Look, guys, both Lauren and I have both got to go, can we put this to a vote?”
Joanna says, “Alright. Raise your hand if you feel the defendant should stay and protect his loving family in their desperate hour of need.”
Robert looks at her, “Thanks for the melodrama.”
Joseph, James, Joanna, Lauren, Mrs. Phelps, Mary, and Hinton all raise their hands, voting no, he cannot leave. Only Reese, Robert and Levy vote yes; so it’s seven to three that Robert must stay. Then, most surprisingly, Robert says:
“Well, I have to tell you, I wanted to do this, I wanted you all to be involved, but in all honesty this really isn’t a family matter, it’s a corporate decision! I cannot allow my family to interfere with my company’s business practices. It would be unethical. So I’m sorry to say, but I cannot abide by that judgment.”
Nearly in unison, Joanna, James and Joseph exclaim, “What!”
“I’m sorry guys, it’s not ethical. Agent Reese is in charge, and he says I can go. I am in charge of Phone Tools, and I have no real reason for not being there. The board of directors has charged me with the success of this company and with the oversight of this pitch. I owe it to them–”
“Owe them!” interrupts Joanna, glaring at him. “Robert, don’t push me! Okay!”
A little exasperated himself, Robert says, “Okay!”
“OKAY!” Adds Joanna for good measure. Then, in what can only be described as outrage under control, she ends the discussion with, “I’m backing you, but don’t make me angry! Just go do what you think you must and be done with it! We can discuss all this after our guests have left.”
Lauren motions to the other agents to give the family a little space. Mary goes to get Mrs. Phelps coat in preparation of leaving, perhaps before 60 Minutes starts. Joseph just kind of watches everything unfold.
James, on the other hand, is furious. As soon as Lauren clears the room he says, “Dad, you know this is a complete betrayal of-of-of everything! You have such a double standard when it comes to Phone Tools! Anywhere else you’re– But that stupid company, it’s killing my father! Killing the man I-I-I’ve admired, and believed in! I hate that da–”
“James!” interrupts Joanna, saving her son from saying something he’d regret. “You watch yourself! I said we’ll discuss this later and I mean it! Now that’s the end of this.”
Robert leaves the room without another word, and unable to look at his son James.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” says James. “I’m sorry.” He sulks out into the front room, and with his arms crossed, stares out the window, in the general direction of Lauren’s car. He is really hurting, with a torrent of emotions swirling inside of him. Even he does not really know the source of his outburst. He’s feeling things he’s never felt before, anxious feelings that are both exciting and nerve wracking. He needs his father.
• • •
The time is closing in on seven o’clock. If Robert is going to make it to the city by eight thirty, he should be leaving, and Lauren, not 10 minutes behind him. Upstairs, as a matter of routine, Robert pulls together a change of clothes to spend the night in the city. As he puts socks and underwear in his garment bag, he stops mid motion, heavy with a feeling of guilt. When he realizes that this would be even before the Secret Service and FBI officials depart, he stops and looks at himself in the bureau mirror and says, “God, what am I doing?”
His face shows wear that he’s never noticed ’til tonight. The three years at Phone Tools have clearly taken their toll. His mind races as he studies his brow an
d eyes, “Look at my face! Phew. So, I got my way. I won! Humph! Is that the face of a winner? Why do I feel like I’ve just stabbed my family in the back? Jimbo is right. Look at me; I-I look like my father!” Glancing away and noticing the clock on his nightstand that it shows it’s nearly seven p.m., he takes a deep breath, and pushes forward.
Low-spirited, he comes downstairs and says his goodbyes. He apologizes to his sons, telling them to mind their mom, and that he’ll see them tomorrow to discuss what he’s doing. He thanks each agent for his hard work; to Lauren, who is also getting ready to leave, he says:
“It was a real pleasure meeting you, and I hope you will stay in touch. I believe at least two members of this family will want that very much.”
Lauren cannot hide what her blushing face reveals as she places her last items away, she then turns, looks at him and gives him a hug saying, “Mr. Market, I will stay in touch, I’m sure of it.”
He looks her in the face and smiles a very approving fatherly smile, then turns towards the entrance. There is one last agent to thank, and Robert feels particularly indebted to him. Agent Hinton rises from his seat to receive his greeting. “Sir,” he says to Hinton, “you’re an incredible individual, and it’s been a real pleasure meeting you. I cannot thank you enough for all you’ve done for my family and me. If you weren’t here, I don’t think I could go, right now. I trust you will take good care of everyone.”
Hinton smiles and shakes Robert’s hand warmly, but replies, “Trust me, Minister?”
His inference is subtle, but not missed. Robert knows that Hinton is taking a shot at his inconsistent faith. It would seem that he does have a bit of a double standard, and Hinton enjoys having the upper hand. “Well, you know what I mean,” he says, looking to close the topic gently.
But FBI Agent Albert Hinton is rarely accused of being gentle. He closes the matter saying, “I’ll pray things go well for you, sir.”
That last comment really stings. Robert knows that he is not practicing what he preaches, but he simply cannot overcome the urge to go lead his team. He is convinced that it is his responsibility, but he also knows that he is responsible for his family, first. The guilt that was a tinge earlier is now weighing heavily on his mind. His feet are heavy indeed as he goes to handle his last and most important goodbye: Joanna. Wanting to do this most delicately, he walks over and takes her by the hand and guides her to the front window, away from the others. James sees them approaching and moves from the front room to the foyer to afford them some privacy. He can still see Lauren’s car from there.
The Journal: A Prophecy, A President & Death Page 41
