State of Rebellion pc-1

by Gordon Ryan

  Upon entering the circular amphitheater, Dan had immediately noticed the presence of hundreds of California bear flags, as opposed to the American flags the concert attendees had traditionally carried over the years.

  “A bit more nationalism perhaps, Senator.”

  “Exactly, son. Exactly my point. Now, you’ve got a wonderful opportunity in front of you for such a young assemblyman. Would that I could start my career over again with such a promising future.”

  “Senator, it’s not really-”

  “Don’t make light of it, son,” Turner interrupted. “Your name will go down in history. Your family has played a significant part in the formation of both the nation and the state. If my sources are right, that illustrious group of ancestors includes the William Whipple you wrote about in your novel. He’s actually your sixth or seventh great-grandfather, isn’t he? And an original signer of the Declaration of Independence? They were traitors, you know, all those folk who signed that document. But once they had succeeded in their objective, they became patriots. And now you, Mr. Rawlings, have the opportunity to take your place among your family lineage at the forefront of history. Quite a privilege.”

  Dan glanced briefly at Nicole, for whom Turner’s revelation that Dan was related to a signer of the Declaration of Independence was news. Voices in My Blood, being fiction, hadn’t defined any actual relationship between the primary characters and the author, leaving it to the reader, as is so often the case in a novel, to determine truth from fiction.

  They were joined again by Mayor La Barbera, and all sat watching the band, which was assembling on stage. The conductor appeared on stage, eliciting a large ovation from the crowd, who assembled to enjoy not only an evening of music but also gathered in anticipation of some political fireworks-something Senator Malcolm Turner had promised in the news releases he had made available to the local media for several days prior to the concert.

  For the next forty-five minutes, the band played a number of light classical selections, march music, and show tunes, with an emphasis on California history. The entire program had the effect of heightening the mood of the crowd. Following a moving rendition of “Goin’ Home,” from Dvorak’s New World Symphony, the conductor announced that immediately following the next number, the band would pause for intermission and Mayor La Barbera would say a few words. A rousing Sousa march brought the first half of the concert to an end, at which point Steve La Barbera took the stand as the band departed the stage.

  “Evening all,” La Barbera said in a casual, down-home manner, to a smattering of applause. “Earlier this afternoon, I took some time to stroll the downtown area, ‘kicking tires,’ so to speak, and who do you think I discovered? Well, I had thought that our national interests were being protected by our esteemed congressional representatives on the job back East, but I bumped into none other than Senator Malcolm Turner. Yep, right here in Modesto. Now for those of you who don’t know Senator Turner-” La Barbera paused, smiled at Turner, and scanned the audience. “Well, maybe there’re none of those here tonight,” he said to a round of laughter. “He does come home once in awhile to check in and get his marching orders before we send him back to the jungle in Washington. But we’ve got him tonight, and given the developing events in our great new nation, I think we ought to hear a few words from him. What do you think?” he said, raising his arms toward the sky to elicit response from the crowd.

  A section of the audience, comprised mostly of men seemingly unified in their intention, immediately rose to their feet, applauding loudly and whistling.

  Nicole took Dan’s hand and leaning into him, whispered, “Well orchestrated, as any good concert should be.” Dan just smiled and squeezed her hand.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” La Barbera announced, “I give you Senator Malcolm Turner.”

  As Turner waited for the applause to die down, he smiled and shook the mayor’s hand, gesturing to the audience to please hold down their accolades. As the noise finally subsided, Turner moved to the microphone.

  “Fellow Modestans, Stanislaus County residents, and guests, I didn’t come here to speak to you tonight in any formal manner, but given the import of events in which we find ourselves, I just want you to know how proud I am to be from Modesto. How proud I am of my heritage and the values my father taught me as I was raised on a farm right down the road from where we sit. But what I mainly wanted to say tonight really has nothing to do with me personally. Tonight I want to introduce to you someone we have recently come to know, and someone I can assure you we will all get to know much better as this year progresses. Someone whose name will go down in California history as he participates in the formation of this great endeavor in which we find ourselves.”

  Dan could feel the hair rise on the back of his neck. Turner was going to use this forum to force Dan to acknowledge his assigned role, preempting the governor. It was political hardball, and Dan had been caught off guard. Not until Nicole placed her hand on his arm did Dan realize how hard he’d been squeezing her fingers as tension grew within him.

  Turner continued. “This young man, from a fine old California family, has become known to all of you in the past several months through the release of his moving and beautifully rendered fictional account of his family’s participation in the settling of America and the pioneering of California. His novel, Voices in My Blood, has become a well-deserved bestseller, not only in California, but across the nation. Now, those of you who know me remember that I always like to keep Modestans informed first whenever possible. I happen to know that since his election to the legislature, this young man has also come to the attention of the governor, and that great responsibilities have been placed upon his shoulders. In all fairness, I should keep you in suspense with the rest of California until Governor Dewhirst decides to announce his plans, but I’m your senator, right?”

  The crowd responded with the appropriate acclamation.

  Looking toward Dan, Turner smiled and signaled him to come up on stage. “You want to meet this young man, don’t you?” he called to the audience.

  The applause grew louder as Turner signaled with his arms for the crowd to whoop it up.

  Nicole leaned toward Dan and said, “You’ve got to wing this one, Dan. But be careful and don’t confirm anything. The governor’s not going to be pleased with this.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” Dan said, standing and stepping toward the stage.

  “That’s right-c’mon up, Dan. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to present to you the newly elected assemblyman from Yolo County and the author of the bestselling novel Voices in My Blood, Mr. Daniel Rumsey Rawlings.”

  The crowd continued its applause as Dan took his position beside Turner and La Barbera.

  “Mr. Rawlings. .” Turner said, motioning for the crowd to quiet down, “Mr. Rawlings will not only be well-known for his wonderful novel, but my sources tell me that Mr. Rawlings will have an effect on every Californian sitting here today. Just as James Madison once shouldered the great burden to draft the famous document that would guide our nation through its infancy, even so, Mr. Daniel Rawlings finds himself in the same role. This young man you see before you tonight has the proud and difficult honor of drafting the new constitution for the Republic of California. Young Daniel,” Turner said, wrapping his arm around Dan’s shoulders, “will pen the future course of our new nation.”

  Dan struggled to keep his anger in check as Turner worked the crowd and maneuvered Dan into an untenable position.

  “We want to hear a few words from such a remarkable young man, do we not?” Turner cajoled. The crowd responded appropriately as Dan stood by Turner’s side, giving to all the appearance of one in agreement with Turner’s well-known stand for secession. Turner again motioned for the crowd to quiet, and Dan took center stage before the microphone.

  “Thank you, Senator Turner. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your kind welcome to Modesto. I’m somewhat stunned by all of this,” Dan said, stalling
. “And I must confess, unsure as to how to respond. The senator’s kind remarks about my novel are most welcome, of course, and I thank him, and you, for responding so well to a new author. As for the future of California, I’m quite certain that no one man or woman will guide her destiny, and wherever that destiny leads, we can all be sure of one thing: this country and this state have an honorable tradition to uphold, and, along with men like Senator Turner, we will do our best to continue that tradition. Thank you again for inviting me to your community.”

  Dan immediately shook hands with Senator Turner and Mayor La Barbera and departed the stand. Turner applauded along with the crowd, concluding with a few brief remarks after having accomplished his mission for the evening. As Turner returned to Nicole and Dan, the mayor approached close behind.

  “Senator,” La Barbera said, “I know you’d like to stay for the remainder of the concert, but I’ve promised a few of the larger contributors that you’d attend a small, private gathering this evening. Just for a short while, of course.”

  “Certainly, Steve, be right with you,” Turner said, turning to Dan and shaking his hand. “Thanks for coming, young fellow. I’m sure we’ll have occasion to meet again soon. My best to you too, young lady. You’ve got a mighty promising young man on your hands. Hold on to him if you can,” Turner said, waving to segments of the crowd as he departed with the mayor.

  Dan sat speechless for several moments, aware that he had been completely outmaneuvered. “Nicole, we’ve got to get out of here, and I’ve got to get a message to the governor before the press breaks this story. That old guy played me like a fiddle.”

  Wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, Nicole stood, and as the band was resuming their seats, the two slipped quietly away, reaching Dan’s car and heading for the freeway toward Sacramento. Dan’s call to the Capitol was switched to the governor’s aide, standing outside the governor’s box at the Sacramento presentation of La Traviata.

  Called from his seat, Governor Dewhirst listened as Dan relayed the events of the evening. Reacting with a calm assurance Dan wasn’t expecting, Dewhirst responded. “I’m not surprised, Dan. Not surprised at all. Turner’s been around the block a few times, and he knows the Feds are just waiting for us to act. Turner’s decided to trump my hand. Be in my office at seven tomorrow morning. We’ve got a full plate, and now that he’s preempted my timetable, we’ve got to act fast. I’ll call General Del Valle and advise him as well.”

  “Governor, I-”

  “Don’t lose any sleep over it. You’re not the first, nor the last, young legislator Turner has sucker-punched. Learn from it, and you’ll be the wiser. See you in the morning.”

  “I’ll be there, Governor,” Dan replied and hung up his phone.

  “Well?” Nicole asked.

  “Smooth, as if he expected it,” Dan responded.

  “He does have over forty years in the business,” Nicole added.

  “I just hope it doesn’t take me another twenty to learn when to duck.”

  Nicole leaned over and kissed his cheek, taking his hand as they both rode in silence for the next few moments. When Dan’s phone rang, Dan picked it up, expecting the governor or someone from his staff to speak.

  “Dan?” the familiar voice said.

  “Mom? What’s up?”

  “Jack’s had a heart attack. He’s in Woodland Memorial.”

  “I’m just south of Stockton. I’ll be there in a little over an hour.”

  “Drive safely, but hurry.”

  “I’ll be there, Mom,” he replied.

  Nicole just looked at Dan quietly. Dan met her eyes as she placed her other hand on top of his.

  “Jack’s had a heart attack,” Dan said, his voice beginning to crack with emotion. “He’s at Woodland Memorial Hospital. I can take you by my apartment, and you can get your car.”

  Nicole held his free hand and placed her left hand behind his neck, gently rubbing to relieve the growing tension that was now replacing the anger that Senator Turner had caused only a few minutes earlier. “No,” she firmly replied, “we’re going straight to Woodland.”

  The usual press of visitors was absent from Woodland Memorial Hospital when Dan and Nicole entered the foyer. In the small reception area outside the Intensive Care Unit, Dan’s mother, who was also Jack’s daughter, met the couple. Dan took his mother in his arms and held her. Nicole stood quietly to one side. She had only met Dan’s mother once, during the Almond Festival.

  “Dan, I’m so glad you were close by. He’s been asking for you. The doctors say-they say he probably won’t last the night,” she sobbed.

  “It’s okay, Mom. I’m here. What happened?”

  “Nothing, really. I was just driving down the valley toward town. Jack was going to get a haircut, and I was going to do some grocery shopping. He was unusually quiet, but you know Jack and his moods. About ten miles from Woodland, I noticed he had laid his head back and closed his eyes. I asked him if he was all right, and he said, if I didn’t mind, could I please take him to Woodland Memorial. If I didn’t mind. .” she cried, cupping her hands over her face.

  “Jack’s old, Mom, but he’s still strong. He’ll pull through.”

  “I don’t know, Dan, I just don’t know.” Glancing around Dan, she noticed Nicole standing quietly nearby. “I’m sorry, Nicole, I didn’t see you.”

  Nicole walked up and took Mrs. Rawlings in her arms. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Rawlings.”

  “Thank you, dear. Dan, you better go in and see him. I’ll wait out here with Nicole, if that’s okay with you,” she said to Nicole.

  “Certainly,” Nicole replied, motioning with her eyes for Dan to go to Jack’s room, and guiding Mrs. Rawlings to a chair in the waiting room.

  Jack was lying on an elevated bed, surrounded by whirring and humming instrument panels, hooked up to various tubes and electrical connections, with his nose and mouth enclosed in a clear plastic oxygen mask. Dan approached the side of the bed and took Jack’s hand, standing quietly, struggling to keep his emotions in check. Jack slowly opened his eyes, and at his recognition of Dan, a hint of a smile creased the corners of his mouth beneath the mask.

  “I’m here, Jack. Don’t try to talk. I’ll be here when you’re stronger.”

  Jack closed his eyes as Dan stood at the side of the bed, holding his grandfather’s gnarled, scarred hand. They stayed that way for a long time, until Nicole and Mrs. Rawlings entered the room. Nicole assisted Dan’s mom to the couch and came to stand behind Dan, placing her hands on his shoulders.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Dan reached up to his shoulder and covered Nicole’s hand with his own.

  “Ummm,” he nodded, “please.”

  They stood vigil through the night, alternately nodding off. Just past three, Mrs. Rawlings was asleep on the couch, and Dan and Nicole were seated together in a doublewide lounge chair in one corner of the room. Dan was resting his head on the back of the chair, lightly sleeping. Nicole nudged him, and as he opened his eyes, he could feel Nicole, with gentle pressure from her arm, urging him to remain quiet. Dan followed Nicole’s gaze to the bed where Jack lay, still encumbered by medical paraphernalia, but his eyes now wide open. The old man stared intently into the corner of the room nearest the window and away from Dan and Nicole. His expression was calm, yet intent, and a smile had returned to his face. He showed no sign of the pain that was evident earlier. Dan shifted his gaze to the corner where Jack was staring, but saw nothing other than the muted glow from the bedside lamp.

  Jack partially raised himself up on the bed, restrained by the attached tubes and electrical cords. Aware that something had disturbed Jack, Dan attempted to rise and go to him, but Nicole gently restrained him as the drama unfolded. Dan glanced at Nicole and saw tears slipping down her cheeks. She held her hand over her mouth as she watched, moved by what she was witnessing.

  Dan glanced back at Jack, and suddenly he understood, his mind opened to the realm of belief, his bo
dy relaxing beneath Nicole’s caress as they both sat transfixed. After what seemed like endless minutes, Jack shifted his gaze to Dan and smiled, leaning back into his pillow, resting comfortably now, his countenance radiant. The gentle look he gave Dan transmitted years of love, and for a brief moment, they shared the unspoken bond that had developed between them as boy had grown to man.

  Jack spoke in a soft, reverent tone, his voice muted by the oxygen mask. “It was Ellen.”

  Dan remained silent, looking at his grandfather. Nicole’s tears were now joined by Dan’s as he leaned back into his chair, comforted by his understanding of Jack’s acceptance. Nicole’s arm was looped through Dan’s, and she inclined comfortably toward him in the chair. They watched together as Jack closed his eyes and rested. They sat that way for some time, Jack breathing quietly and easily.

  When Dan once again opened his eyes, he took a few seconds to realize that he had fallen asleep. Now, Jack’s chest was still, and he lay peacefully in the aftermath of his willing acceptance of life’s cycle.

  Later, as the growing amber light filtered through the louvered shutters, lifting the darkness from the room, Dan stood behind Nicole in front of the window, his arms wrapped around her.

  “Do you believe in life after death, Nicole?” Dan asked softly.

  Nicole turned around to face him, placing her head against his chest and taking several deep breaths. “With all my heart, Dan. I know it, as certain as I stand here.”

  “Personal experience?”

  “Not exactly. I told you that my father was killed in the line of duty as a state trooper in Connecticut. My sister Jennie told me that he spoke to her in a dream, a very real dream, as she described it.”

  Dan pulled Nicole from his chest, placing his hand beneath her chin and raising her head to face him. “You grow more complicated every day, Agent Bentley.”