Timing brought them to this part of the world just as Russia officially joined NATO. To commemorate the event, the Fortson and the other ships in the task group surrounding the aircraft carrier USS Eisenhower immediately launched into joint operations with a smaller Russian task group and their carrier the Pushkin. For the crew of the Fortson, who were just relearning close order formations with allied ships and planes, the challenge of operating with the Russians kept everyone in the operations and weapons departments on their toes twenty-four hours a day for ten days. Finally they were due some rest.
The task group had split up, each ship going to a different port to rest until they formed again on Monday afternoon south of Marseilles. The crew of Hugh’s ship considered themselves lucky to draw Golfe Juan, even if they did have to anchor out and run small boats to the fleet landing, instead of tying up at a pier, which was usually possible at larger ports.
Hugh was tempted to go ashore, but he was so tired and had so much paperwork to catch up on that he decided to eat supper on board, work through the evening, and sample the south of France the next evening.
Although in northern Europe it could be quite cool by mid-October, along the Mediterranean coast the days were still warm, and there was only a slight chill once the sun went down. After dinner Hugh decided to walk outside to watch the beautiful October sunset, and he wound up on the helo deck near the stern of the ship, overlooking the fantail where their five-inch gun was mounted. Couples, both straight and gay, walked hand in hand around the helo deck and the fantail. When women had first been stationed on noncombatants, displays of public affection on board ship had not been allowed. But three months earlier an attorney for a gay couple on the USS Pierce had won that right when off-duty. It had been ruled a constitutional guarantee of freedom of speech, and so by reverse logic it had to be permissible for heterosexual couples as well. The result was that some had now nicknamed the Fortson the “Love Boat.”
Hugh tried to ignore the couples, even those he knew well like Maggie Simpson from Teri’s division and Electrician Chief Garnett Ellis, who were huddled in a tight embrace only twenty feet from him. Instead he thought about his and Jennifer’s visit to the White House.
The sessions with Joe Wood and Robert Ludwig had been like a shot of adrenaline for their marriage, and he hoped that it would last. Jennifer had given him a special Read Daily Thru the Bible, which divided God’s Word into 365 segments, complete with commentary and cross-references. He and Jennifer had decided to start reading with the calendar, so as he departed they found themselves beginning the New Testament. He’d already written her two letters about insights he’d gained from his reading, and he hoped she was equally as engrossed.
As for Teri, neither of them had mentioned the night at Guantanamo Bay again, and he had maintained a pleasant but professional relationship with her during the long operating hours of the past three weeks. He had decided that the temptation she represented would always be there, but he would try to do his part to keep it in the background. And he had begun praying every day for God’s help.
“A quarter for your thoughts,” Teri said, coming up beside him as the sun drew a beautiful pink tapestry in the west.
He looked to his left and returned her smile. Her hair was still damp from a recent shower. She smelled clean. “Hi,” he said. “I thought it was a penny.”
“Inflation. And I thought I’d make you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”
His smile broadened. “I see.” He decided to be totally honest. “Well, I was just thinking about Jen and the kids and how much I miss them. It’s almost easier when we go at full speed; there’s less time to think. Stopping like this is necessary, but it’s almost torture.”
It was Teri’s turn to say, “I see.” She turned to face the sunset. “It really is beautiful out here. Looking at this it’s hard to imagine we’ll actually be here through the whole winter, until early April. Will we keep going at this pace? My girls are exhausted. Most are sleeping in tonight or relaxing in other ways.” She nodded toward her friend, now kissing Chief Ellis and oblivious to everyone around them.
“Yes...well on my other deployments the heavy operating times have come in cycles; we’ve just started off at a very fast pace. It should let up a bit next week without the Russians.”
As they continued to talk, they noticed a small group of eight enlisted men and one woman gathering on the fantail below them. Hugh was surprised to see that they all had Bibles. Although he and Teri could hear sounds, they were just a little too far away to make out the words. But it was soon apparent that Radioman First Class Ross Ewing was leading an evening Bible study for several of his shipmates.
Hugh and Teri continued to talk, and about five minutes later Seaman Raymond Tyson, the young sailor from the supply department who had suffered the name-calling from Wolf Higgins, walked up to the group below them and tentatively began talking with Ewing. Several minutes passed with what appeared to be quite a bit of discussion in the group. Finally Ewing nodded his head and smiled. Tyson joined the group, and one of the men shifted his seat on the deck so Tyson could look on in his Bible.
“Interesting,” Hugh said. “Well, I’ve got a lot of forms and other exciting stuff to catch up on. I hate to leave this romantic spot, but duty calls.”
Teri nodded. “You’re forgiven. I’ll match my paper pile with yours any day. The needs of the navy...see you in the morning. Good night.”
He turned and walked away, glad that he’d mentioned his wife, whom he knew he loved more than ever, but nevertheless feeling a curious warmth in his chest and face. Meaning every word, he briefly closed his eyes and said, “Dear Lord, please give me strength.”
WASHINGTON—“So those, we believe, are the issues, benefits, costs, and choices before us.” William was concluding his presentation on national television that Thursday evening. “We’ve tried to present them as clearly and as evenly as possible. We offer the American people our program as a solution to our nation’s problems. We realize that implementing it will cost our nation, just as not implementing it will cost our nation.
“But beyond our program I urge you to examine your own values, to learn about the principles on which this nation was founded, and about the men and women who risked everything to breathe life into it. Then communicate those values to your representatives and to your president. And I urge you to vote—our next national election will be in just over a year. Vote for men and women who share your values and will implement them in Washington. Our nation is stuck in a legislative gridlock, as we’ve acknowledged tonight; the only sure outcome will be ever increasing debt with no real results. We need a clear direction here in Washington, and only you can give it. So write, call, and above all, vote. Thank you and good night.”
An exterior shot of the White House appeared on the U.S. Network’s feed to its stations around the country, and then TV viewers saw Ryan Denning in the Washington newsroom.
“Tonight we’ve seen a different sort of presidential speech, almost a classroom discussion on national economics and the choices before us, at least as President Harrison sees them. Leslie Sloane, our chief White House correspondent, is here tonight with two key congressional leaders, Trent Patterson of the president’s party, and Bill Phillips of the opposition. Leslie...”
The camera cut to a set where the well-known newswoman and her two guests sat in three comfortable chairs. “Thank you, Ryan. Congressman Patterson, let’s start with you. Did you have any idea that the president was going to take this approach to restarting your party’s domestic program?”
“Not specifically until the briefing of leaders from both parties two days ago, when he laid out the same statistics and choices that the American people have seen tonight.”
“What do you think?”
Congressman Patterson smiled. “I think he’s sincere and means what he says. We’re of course prepared to support this program one hundred percent, as we have in the past.”
“But
he seemed to imply that perhaps your party doesn’t have all the answers, especially with economic predictions.”
“Well, I think he actually said that no government or party can predict the future perfectly, and any economic model can be off, especially in a dynamic economy like ours. But frankly, I think we’ve got some pretty good models giving pretty good results.”
“So you’re more optimistic than the president is about the predictions of economic boom to follow the period of job training and housing starts?”
The congressman appeared to be uncomfortable. “Perhaps a little. But I think we’ll all just have to wait and see. I do believe our party’s jobs and housing programs are the right ones for the nation.”
“Congressman Phillips, what was your reaction to the new approach proposed by the president?”
“Well, if he’s sincere, like my good colleague believes him to be, I guess it will be refreshing.”
“Do you doubt his sincerity?”
“I don’t know. I hope I have no reason to. But we’ve heard these media inspired ‘fresh starts’ before. Then soon it’s back to politics as usual.”
“I must say, congressman, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a president take, let’s see, eight minutes to give a detailed synopsis of what the opposition would say is wrong with his program, and to do it so genuinely. Have you?”
“No, not in such detail,” Phillips agreed. “But his calling for the voters to elect representatives who agree with their values sounds a little like a power play over the heads of seated congressmen and congresswomen, which frankly his party is famous for. So we’ll be watching to see if his actions speak louder than his words.”
“Wait a minute, Bill,” Trent Patterson said. “I don’t agree with your statement that our party singlehandedly appeals to voters over the heads of Congress. Look at what your last president did every time he got into a little trouble—he went traipsing to the media to tell the people how awful Congress was. I heard William Harrison say he’ll work with Congress.”
“But did he mean it?” Bill Phillips replied. “And what will be the cost of finding out? How long will he work with us? We need time to prepare a response to tonight’s introductory economics lecture.”
“Of course he meant it,” Patterson answered.
Phillips smiled silently in response.
Leslie Sloane tried to regain control of the interview by asking Congressman Phillips, “How do you feel the president did on representing your position as the opposition?”
“I haven’t had time to assess that, Ms. Sloane. There’s a lot at stake here for the American people, and we need time to analyze all the consequences of these various program proposals.”
“But haven’t you been doing that for over eight months already?”
“Of course. But the economy has changed from last January when this administration took office and first proposed its programs, and I thought I heard some slightly new things here tonight. So we’ll analyze it, and hopefully we can work together, as the president has requested.”
“Thank you gentlemen. That’s the congressional reaction. Back to you, Ryan.”
RALEIGH—Two hours after the president’s speech, Sarah Prescott was on her knees by her bed, fighting back tears. She was overwhelmed by the mixture of feelings she was experiencing. She felt dirty, elated, betrayed, let down, and excited. She had experienced the virtual reality computer for the first time that afternoon, and her emotions had been on a roller coaster ever since.
“O God, what am I supposed to do? I’m so sorry. I...I should have waited to be married. I feel so dirty. Please forgive me.”
But as she was praying the images from the experience that afternoon exploded in her mind again and caused her to catch her breath. She fought and fought, but the thought still came: It was fantastic, just like everyone said. I liked it. I liked it a lot!
“O God, forgive me. Please forgive me. I know it’s wrong. Please...” Tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m so bad. What will Mom and Dad dunk?”
Hey, that guy was like so cool And so real. I had sex today—but I didn’t! Isn’t that awesome? And I can do it again next week. As much as I want. Whenever I want
“I need your help, dear God. I’ve done a terrible thing. I’ve broken your law. I feel so dirty, and used. Please help me!”
But it’s not really sex. I’m still a virgin! It’s no big deal I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m learning about love and sex without hurting anyone. It’ll make me a better wife for my husband when I do get married. And that guy was so awesome.
“Please, God, help me know what’s right. Help me do the right thing. I’m really confused. I don’t want to do something bad, but I don’t want to miss something good, either. Please help me know, so I can tell my parents. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
She felt better after praying. She got into bed to read. Ten minutes later, as she switched out her light, she thought I wonder if we get to choose from the same guys in the next session?
WASHINGTON—William Harrison found himself once again unusually at peace, despite the issues swirling around him. His staff had put together a tape of all the major network reports following his national address. They would discuss them together in the morning, but now he and Carrie were sitting in their living room, finishing the final segment on the tape. With the last anchorperson’s ten-second analysis fading out, William turned off the VCR He turned to Carrie, whose hand he had been holding on the sofa.
He shook his head slightly and said, “Isn’t it amazing, when you think about it. We tried to make a real break with the status quo, to signal a willingness to talk openly and to share ideas so that Congress and the people could decide the best course of action. And we kept our new approach under wraps until the last minute. Yet you’d think every politician they interviewed had practiced his or her response for a month! They all put up a smokescreen that basically said, ‘No, let’s keep everything like it is, doing nothing, but keeping us all in power, and maybe this Harrison guy will go away in three years.’ Am I wrong, Carrie?”
“No, I think you pretty well summarized what we’ve just seen. But maybe after a day or two when they get your real package, they’ll respond more positively.”
The president frowned as he said, “I hope so, but don’t count on it. They’ll also have more time to think of reasons to continue waffling. I don’t expect anyone to attack my idea head on. It’s a little too logical for that. From what we’ve seen here, they—and I mean both parties—apparently just plan to chew around the edges until it disappears a month later in some final sound bite. And the gridlock will remain.”
“It’s funny, William. I think you’re right, but you don’t seem upset, like you used to get,” Carrie offered, turning on the couch to face him and bringing her knees up under her.
“I guess you get so far down, there’s no reason to keep screaming. If this approach winds up not working, Carrie, I really don’t know what to do. Since we started in January I’ve tried party politics, persuasion, blackmail, and now, thank God for what he’s done, honesty and logic. If none of those work, and we’re still stuck, then I’ve run out of ideas. But you’re right, I’m not angry. I feel like we’ve lost, but we haven’t been defeated. I just wish I could do better for the nation. Our people deserve better. They need a leader like Washington or Lincoln, someone who can show them the way out of this debt-ridden bureaucratic mess. Get our nation back on a solid foundation. But instead they’ve got me.”
Carrie squeezed his hand. “Weren’t you the person who told me that our best leaders felt inadequate?”
“Do you have to remember everything I said?” William asked smiling and squeezing her hand in return. “You’re right. Our founders did feel inadequate. Actually,” he added, “pretty often.”
“And what did they do when they felt that way?”
“My best guess is that they prayed. Fervently and often. They believed that God was their Ruler and that they should turn
to him for guidance.”
“Well, I know we’ve been praying together for a couple of months, ever since Michael suggested it. But our prayers have mostly been for our family and for general wisdom to follow God’s will. Let’s try being really specific Let’s pray for his guidance on your legislative program and on other issues. Maybe we should even ask others to pray for you. And perhaps you should pray in your office. Is there anyone else on the staff who would pray with you?”
“I don’t know, but you’re probably right, Carrie. It’s like Robert Ludwig said the other night in our study. We ask Christ into our home easily enough, but then we leave him standing alone in the entrance hall, not expecting him to get involved in our bedrooms, kitchens, or closets. And we certainly don’t extend the invitation to our offices! Then we suffer the consequences of underestimating his power. You’re right. We should have been doing this already. Here, let’s pray now, and tomorrow I’ll start a list of issues on which I really need his guidance.”
The president and first lady bowed their heads, then William silently slid to the floor on his knees, and Carrie followed him.
When they finished praying, William stood and felt a momentary chill. It occurred to him in a burst of silent understanding that perhaps God was no longer interested in America. How awful that would be! he thought again, a few minutes later, as they walked together to their bedroom. His body shook involuntarily. Could that be possible? Carrie gave him a questioning look. But the possibility that God would leave them to their own divided and godless desires was too awful for him to share. Please, Lord, don’t forsake us, he silently prayed. Please... As they walked, he squeezed Carrie’s hand, but he wasn’t smiling.
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