by Bryan, JL
“So of course the left has unleashed the crazy hounds,” O’Flannery said. “I’ve seen awful things about you on the web, Ashleigh. Just hateful bile. Cartoons and Photoshop pictures that aren’t suitable for this program. Even The Onion has attacked you. All this attention must be hard on a kid your age.”
“I think it’s sad the left has to resort to attacking little girls,” Ashleigh said. “But you know what? My daddy’s a preacher, and he always tells me no matter what I suffer, it’s nothing compared to what Jesus and the Disciples suffered. Christians get persecuted, but God takes care of us. I don’t care if everyone hates me. I have my faith.” She touched the cross pendant, as if seeking strength from it. She released it, and as she dropped her hand, her fingers just happened to trace along the partially exposed curve of her right breast.
“I think you must have incredible strength to cope with all this vitriol,” O’Flannery said.
“All I ever said was teens shouldn’t have sex,” Ashleigh said. “How is that controversial?”
“Never underestimate the sheer hatred of the left,” O’Flannery said. “The truth makes them howl. In fact, I think it’s time to call out the Liberal Moondogs.”
A sound effect of several barking dogs played in the studio. On the monitor, four cartoon dogs paraded across the screen: a limp-wristed pink poodle, a big black pit bull wearing a do-rag, a Chihuahua in a sombrero, and a sheepdog in a tie-dyed headband and a “Save the Jackelopes” t-shirt, giving a peace sign with his shaggy fingers. Ashleigh giggled.
“Now let’s look at the victims of this radical atheist principal,” he said. On the monitor, there was a slideshow of Neesha’s photos, with the pregnant girls looking depressed and ashamed. The producers had turned them black and white, and added slow, sappy music, like it was an ad for starving African children or homeless pets.
“These are the faces of girls who weren’t allowed to hear Ashleigh’s important message,” O’Flannery intoned. “Look at them now.”
Ashleigh made sure she looked sad and pouty when the cameras came back to them. O’Flannery shook his head at the tragedy of it all.
“What’s going to happen to those girls, Ashleigh?”
“Unfortunately, college is out of the question for most of them,” Ashleigh said. “We’ve started a special Girls’ Outreach Ministry to guide them back to a moral life and help provide for their babies. I’m proud to report that we haven’t suffered one abortion in our school.” She doubted this was true, but who cared?
“And what about the boys who got to enjoy all this wild sex?” O’Flannery said. “Are they stepping up to the plate?”
“We’re encouraging all the girls to get married. I’m helping my daddy put together a big marriage ceremony for everybody at once.”
“That is just great, Ashleigh.” He jabbed his pen at the camera. “How can the O’Flannery Overviewers out there help these poor girls?”
“They can donate through our website, and they can send any kind of baby supplies. We’re a poor church in a poor little town. We need all the help we can get.”
“Put that website up there,” O’Flannery said. On the monitor, it appeared in fat letters at the bottom of the screen: helpfallenoakgirls.org.
“Help out those girls if you can, Overviewers. I donated. These are innocent victims of the loony left’s loony agenda.” He turned to Ashleigh. “Ashleigh, we didn’t tell you this, but we have a special treat for you today. We can’t make this loony-moony principal show your abstinence video at school, even if your classmates clearly need it. But we can show it to millions of O’Flannery Overviewers across the country, right now, tonight.”
“Oh, wow!” Ashleigh said. “Thank you! Maybe it will help some kids, after all!”
“We hope so.” He turned to the camera. “Get ready, folks. Here comes the controversial video the left doesn’t want you to see—after these messages.”
They cut to commercial, and O’Flannery’s two sweat-swabber ladies ran out with clean towels and fresh makeup. As they patted his face, O’Flannery’s eyes appraised Ashleigh, and he laid a meaty, sweaty hand on top of hers.
“Ashleigh,” he said, “Let me take you to Sparks while you’re in town. They have the best steaks in Manhattan.”
“Sure!” Ashleigh said. “My daddy will love that. He never misses your show. Oh, I can’t wait to tell him, Mr. O’Flannery!”
O’Flannery frowned.
“That’s a lot of people on short notice,” he mumbled. “Maybe some other time.”
“You bet! I’ll call you next time I’m in New York. Without my daddy.” Ashleigh winked. Flirting with him gave her the urge to yarf in the nearest trash can.
Then they had to shut up and wait for the cameras.
O’Flannery set up the video for viewers just tuning in, and then it played on the monitor. Ashleigh watched it with her tight little smile.
It started with some jazzy music, and then the Abstinence is Power! logo spun out from the center of the screen, in a Comic Sans font, electric purple letters outlined in yellow.
The first sketch starred Erica Lintner, the freshman girl who believed she’d invented the slogan “abstinence is power.” She wore pigtails and glasses, and she smiled around her braces. She also wore a white lab coat with a stethoscope and held a clipboard. The Goodlings’ Welsh Corgi, Maybelle, stood on a table in front of her. The dog wagged her tail.
“Abstinence was the right choice for me,” Erica said. “Becoming a veterinarian took a lot of school and a lot of studying. If I made the wrong choices, I wouldn’t have gotten where I am today.” She petted the dog.
The next clip featured Brenda Purcell, the girl who’d acted as DJ for the lock-in while dressed as the Bride of Frankenstein. Now she wore a straw cowboy hat and held a guitar across her lap.
“Abstinence was the right choice for me,” Brenda said, though in real life Brenda was five months pregnant. Fortunately, they’d made the video back in the fall. “You can’t succeed in country music without a lot of dedication and practice, and tons of hard work.” She strummed the guitar and sang a few bars of Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5.
There were a few more. The last one was Ashleigh herself, in a blue suit, at a podium with the American flag behind her.
“Abstinence was the right choice for me,” Ashleigh said. “Becoming President of the greatest country on Earth takes a lifetime of planning and public service. If I hadn’t practiced abstinence before marriage, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Abstinence really is power!”
The original posters that had actually hung in the school, featuring the “sexy abstinence” campaign, had all been burned up long ago in Ashleigh’s fireplace after the Special Activities Committee secretly collected them for her. Neesha had created alternative posters, derived from the video that Principal Harris had prohibited without seeing, the one now being played to cable news viewers around the country. This alternative campaign, about which Principal Harris knew nothing, was the one featured in their press kits.
When the video clips finished, Chuck turned to Ashleigh, still smitten from his doses of Ashleigh-love.
“What is wrong with that?” O’Flannery asked. “Your principal calls that ‘disturbing.’ I find him disturbing, to be honest.”
“We thought it would be okay because we weren’t preaching our religious beliefs. We knew Principal Harris would never allow that.”
“Because he’s a loony lib. I thought it was harmless and very valuable, actually. Overviewers, you can find the full video on the O’Flannery Overview website.” The web address popped up on the monitor. He turned back to Ashleigh. “Ashleigh, was that you as the President of the United States up there?”
Ashleigh giggled. “I do hope to go into public service. But my personal favorite is my little buddy Erica as the veterinarian.”
“Let me tell you, Ashleigh…” O’Flannery put a meaty hand on top of hers, and gazed into her eyes. “If you ever became President, the men in this cou
ntry would be very happy.”
“Is that an endorsement, Mr. O’Flannery?” Ashleigh giggled.
“You can count on my support, Ashleigh.” He gave a goofy smile.
“Well, bless your heart,” Ashleigh said. “Thank you, Mr. O’Flannery.”
“Thank you, Ashleigh.” He looked at her for several seconds before remembering it was a live show. He turned to the cameras. “When we come back: Ashleigh takes questions from viewers. After this short break.”
***
“Turn it off,” Jenny said. “I can’t listen to her anymore.”
“The DVR’s recording it, anyway.” Seth flipped over to Comedy Central. He and Jenny slumped towards each other on the couch, his left shoulder against her right, a roach smoldering in the awful rhinoceros-foot ashtray on the coffee table. Where did Seth get these things?
They were in an upstairs sitting room in Seth’s house with the French doors open to a warm April night. Jenny hadn’t smoked much pot in recent months, since it really hadn’t occurred to her. She felt good most of the time with Seth, and even when they argued, they eventually found peace, usually through laughing.
To prepare herself for Ashleigh on national television, though, Jenny had snagged a half-quarter of her dad’s stash of homegrown. That seemed a little dry and stale, too, probably because of all the time her dad was spending with June.
“Light a second one,” Jenny said. “I need it.”
Seth struck it up, puffed a few times, and then passed it to her once it was burning well. Jenny filled her lungs with smoke, then coughed.
“Do you think Ashleigh’s behind the pregnancies?” Jenny asked.
“How could she be?” Seth asked, while his fingers stroked her cheek.
“Think about it, man,” Jenny said. “She can make people love her. But can she also make people fall in love with each other? Like Cupid? Or is that stupid?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Seth said. “She never admitted having any powers to me. And I don’t understand mine all that well.”
“But we do know about ours,” Jenny said. “Let’s figure this out. We can’t turn them off, right? That’s one thing.”
“But we can turn it up,” Seth said. “I can pump out more if I want, like when I healed your dad. When Ashleigh turns it up, you’re basically her slave. When she turns it way up, your brain stops working, and you’re just her pet animal.”
“God, I’d hate to see what mine does when I turn it up,” Jenny said. “But I know I can focus it. Like when I infected you to burn out Ashleigh’s influence. I can tailor it. So maybe Ashleigh can make two people go for each other. Maybe if she touches them both at the same time.”
Seth remembered, with some embarrassment, the time Ashleigh had made Cassie perform on him. Ashleigh had put her hands on both of them at once, and Seth felt a sudden burning desire for Cassie. Obviously, Cassie had felt something similar for him.
“I think maybe she can do that,” Seth said.
“So she makes all these pregnancies happen, and then she gets on TV,” Jenny said. She sat up against the armrest, still puffing on the joint. Seth took it from her. “Wait. First she has to get her abstinence thing rejected by Principal Harris. So she does all those sexy posters. Right? Remember?”
“Yeah, those were good,” Seth said, exhaling smoke.
“No, they were crazy,” Jenny said. “Using sex to sell abstinence. So of course Principal Harris cancels it. Then Ashleigh has to make all the girls pregnant in time to blame the principal. Do you see it, Seth? She’s been planning this all year!”
“I guess if anyone is capable of that, it’s her,” Seth said.
“But what’s the point?” Jenny asked. “She just wanted to screw with people? And get on TV?”
Seth reflected on this as he smoked. “I bet it’s part of her flowchart.”
“What’s that?”
“Did I never tell you? She has a flowchart on her wall. Floor-to-ceiling, posterboard, Magic Marker. Been there since like ninth grade, okay? As long as I’ve known her. And it’s her whole map of her future.”
“Seriously? What’s on it?”
“Georgetown for undergrad. Law school, preferably Yale. Then a job with a major lobbying firm, preferably oil or defense. Two years. Then she comes back home and runs as a small-town girl for state office. Next step: governor, House or Senate, depending on what’s available. Next step: the White House, maybe somewhere in the Cabinet, maybe Vice President, maybe…you know.”
Jenny broke down laughing, and there was a small, panicked tremor inside her laugh. “President Goodling! What a nightmare. No way.”
“I used to think it was funny,” Seth said. “That she wanted to get inside the White House so bad. Not that she couldn’t, maybe, possibly do it, but it just seemed like a silly thing to want. Like being an astronaut. Hardly anybody gets to do that.
“But think about it now,” Seth continued. “With her enchantment. Shaking hands. She can’t help but make people like her, all the time, wherever she goes. She only needs a little bit of access to power, doesn’t she? And then she can charm her way to the top. Can you imagine Ashleigh with the access to touch people in the Senate? Or the White House? The Pentagon?”
Jenny felt dizzy. Too much smoke. She crammed out the joint, with a grimace at the rhino foot, then stood up and walked out to the balcony. She looked out over the budding life in the orchard, the wildflowers in the stable yard, the blooming vines creeping up the walls of the graveyard on the next hill. She thought of her ride to school after her first date with Seth, how life in the trees crawled underground in the winter, resting in the roots like a corpse in a grave, but it always came back with a new eagerness to live again.
“That’s it,” Jenny said. “It’s all about getting access to powerful people. She’s too impatient to wait. She wants to climb high and fast.”
“It could work,” Seth said. He came out to join her. “Old Chuck there can probably introduce her to some people. She’ll have him enslaved by the end of the show.”
“And then she graduates and moves to Washington, DC to start school,” Jenny said, “Seth, we have to stop her!”
“What? Why? Maybe she’ll leave town for good.”
“But nobody else knows about her power,” Jenny said. “And they wouldn’t believe us if we told them. And nobody else has powers like us, to fight her with.”
“We don’t know that,” Seth said. “If there’s three in Fallen Oak, there must be others in the world.”
Jenny paused. She had never really thought of that. She wondered how many were out there, what they were doing, if anyone else had a curse like hers.
“Okay,” she said. “But they aren’t focused on Ashleigh. That’s our responsibility. She’s from our town.”
“Now you sound like my dad,” Seth said. “‘Ooh, responsibility’s such a tough word, isn’t it? Breaks your back, doesn’t it?’ Whatever.”
“You know I’m right, Seth.”
“What can we do?” Seth asked. “Should I go heal her? Or do you want to infect her with something?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want to kill her?” Seth asked.
“No!” Jenny turned on him. “Why would you say that?”
“It’s something you could do,” Seth said. “You wouldn’t go to jail, because it would be death by disease, not murder. No one would believe a person could do that.”
“You’ve thought about this?” she asked.
“Haven’t you? Haven’t you ever wondered what would happen if you killed someone on accident? Or on purpose? If there’s a witness, do the police believe him? Or whether you could even go to jail for Jenny pox? Would you be considered a biological weapon? You never thought about it?”
“No, Seth,” Jenny said. “I’ve always just pretty much tried to avoid killing people. That’s plenty to worry about on its own.”
“If you wanted to kill Ashleigh—”
“I don’t!”
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“—now’s the time,” Seth continued. “Before she has powerful friends. Before she’s working in secure areas that we can’t reach.”
“We can’t just do that,” Jenny said.
“What else could we do?” Seth asked.
Jenny tried to think of another idea, but nothing came to mind.
“Anyway, we’ve got bigger things to worry about,” Seth said. “The Easter egg hunt thing on Sunday. Do we need to go shopping?”
“You’ve got closets and closets of things upstairs,” Jenny said. “I’d rather go shopping right here.”
“Help yourself. Some of those closets haven’t been opened in ages, mwah-haha-haha. There’s all kinds of jewelry and everything.”
“Is there any I can borrow?” Jenny asked.
“You find it, you dust it, it’s yours.”
Jenny gaped at him.
“What?” he asked. “I’m not wearing it.”
“Do you have a sewing machine?”
“Maybe an antique. My mom’s not the knitty type.”
“My favorite kind. And, so what do we have to do at this Easter thing?”
“I have to give a speech that the bank manager wrote for me,” Seth said. “Which I will shorten. And then we sit on the bandstand with the mayor and the preachers, the town council.”
“Dr. Goodling’s going to be there?” Jenny said.
“And Rev. Isaiah Bailey from New Calvary Church.” New Calvary was the black church, located on the southern outskirts of the town, not too far from Jenny’s house.
“Yeah, but back to the Goodlings. Is Ashleigh going to be near us?”
“We can try to avoid her,” Seth said. “Anyway, the mayor talks, and the white preacher and the black preacher give a blessing together. And then the kids hunt for eggs all over the square. The police block off the roads.”
“What do I have to do?” Jenny asked.
“Just sit by me until the hunt is over.”
“How long does that take?”
“One year it took three hours.”
Jenny shook her head. She got to her feet. “I’m going closet shopping. If Ashleigh’s there, I want to look twice as good as her.”
