The President

by Parker Hudson

  ATLANTA—The weather in Atlanta that Sunday changed back quickly to a cold winter rain, meaning that Bruce and Rebecca could not jog, but instead worked out that afternoon in the gym. On returning to her apartment, it was obvious that Bruce was agitated, and finally, as they drank orange juice in her kitchen, he asked, “Well, have you decided, yet? I can’t stand not knowing.”

  Rebecca looked down at her juice glass and pursed her lips. Then she looked back at him. “Bruce, I...if I have to decide right now, then I must say no, at least for now.” He put down his glass and turned away from her toward the window. She continued, “I obviously care for you very much. We’ve been together a long time and helped each other through a lot. But between your problems—you may have to go back to Boston any minute, God forbid—and my own doubts, I’m not ready to commit the rest of my life to our relationship. I may next week, after things calm down a bit, but right now I’m just not sure.”

  “It was that TV program wasn’t it?” he asked bitterly, turning back to her.

  “That...may be some of it. I still don’t understand why you did it. But it’s also, as crazy as this sounds, worldviews, just like my brother said. I just don’t know if I can live with someone who is so hostile to God.”

  “And what are you, now, suddenly a born-again believer?” he asked derisively.

  “No, Bruce, I’m not. Not yet, at least. But I’m thinking. Everything that’s happened this year has made me think. But it’s comments like you just made that make me worry about whether or not we could make it if we got married. You’re...you’re so on the edge all the time.”

  “Oh, give me a break. Now you’re a psychological specialist!”

  It was her turn to look away, a note of sorrow on her face. “Bruce, I just don’t know. I need some time to work through this.”

  “Well, I’ll save you the agony. I think a year is long enough. If you don’t love me now, when will you? And you know what, your brother really if a jerk. He seems real cool at first, but inside he’s a jerk. He didn’t really want to help my mom in the beginning—you’re the one who made him. And now he’s a flipped-out Christian. So I don’t think I could stand being in a family with him, anyway. You keep him, and I’ll keep believing in myself. I can’t seem to find anyone else to trust in! At any rate, I’m out of here.” He finished his juice, walked over, and set the empty glass on the counter.

  “You’re leaving?” she asked. “Now? In the rain?”

  “You got it. Just give me ten minutes to pack and you can pretend you never knew me. Then you can have lots of quiet prayer time without me to bother you. Good luck with William, Mary, and their myths.”

  While Rebecca stayed by the window and looked out at the rainy afternoon, Bruce packed. Her heart was heavy, and she found herself fighting back tears. But she knew they were tears of both loss and relief. Without either of them saying another word, he left.

  22

  The foundations of our society and our government rest so much on the teachings of the Bible that it would be difficult to support them if faith in these teachings would cease to be practically universal in our country.

  CALVIN COOLIDGE

  Saturday, March 30

  A Month Later

  WASHINGTON—Ryan Denning awoke on the Saturday before Easter in Leslie Sloane’s bed and looked over at her while she slept. They had abandoned any attempt at outward propriety, since virtually everyone in the media knew of their relationship, and they now regularly stayed at each other’s apartments in Washington and New York.

  She had continued her pressure for marriage and had given him another ultimatum only a week before. As he looked at her that morning, he considered again that they would, in fact, make a good match. Maybe tonight after the march I’ll propose. That’ll surprise her.

  An hour later they shared a simple breakfast, which he fixed because it took her longer to get ready.

  “We’ll be in position on Pennsylvania Avenue for the parade by ten-thirty,” she reviewed out loud as they sipped their coffee. “Then I’ll join you in the booth near the Capitol for the speeches.”

  “It’s great that all the major networks are giving the march live coverage. Hopefully we’ll derail the president’s plans before they ever really get started,” he said.

  “Yes. I hear the vice president is treating her speech like the kick-off to her campaign for the presidency. With the parties dividing and the possibility of a new president, this certainly is a strange year!”

  Ryan smiled and there was a moment of silence. “Speaking of strange, Leslie, you know there are going to be some ‘strange’ groups in this People’s March on Washington today. I hope your director and crew know not to show them.”

  “I know. We’ve heard that every group from the Gay Paratroopers to Women Who Love Trees will be in attendance, many with floats. It’s a shame these tiny minorities get so much attention. They divert people from the issue of running our nation on rational human values, which is the real purpose for the march.”

  “Well, just use your commercial breaks and background discussions judiciously, and the folks in the rest of the country don’t even have to know that those groups exist. I think the speakers at noon will be great, though. When it’s over, let’s have dinner at a really nice place tonight and celebrate what I hope will be the beginning of the end for Pope William Harrison’s crazy ideas.”

  She rose and put her dishes in the sink. “You’re on. Now I’ve got to run.”

  RALEIGH—At about eleven-thirty that morning Mary and Graham were in their den with Tom and Cynthia Williams, the television turned down low with the People’s March on Washington in the background. Cynthia had called Mary and asked to come over to discuss something with her. She was just making her key point.

  “And so there are at least ten families who want to work together to lobby in Congress against the BioTeam federal education grant for the computer—many of our kids will join us—and we hope that you’ll not only join us, but consider becoming a spokeswoman for us, given your recent notoriety and the president’s challenge to the nation.”

  Mary turned to Graham sitting next to her on the sofa and then back to Cynthia. “I doubt you want my kind of notoriety! The media has painted our whole family as Neanderthals. And I’m not sure I have the time for another battle we’ll probably lose, anyway.”

  “Not so on both counts,” Cynthia countered. “We believe this grant is far from a sure thing, especially when we show the videos in open session and disclose the tie-in with Pet Girl International And we think you’d be a great spokesperson. Not everyone believes what’s being said in the media. And with your brother’s challenge this year—” Cynthia was about to tie the two campaigns together when the front door opened and Sarah, without more than a muffled grunt from the hallway, stormed upstairs to her room and closed the door.

  Graham looked at Mary. “Weren’t she and Matthew supposed to be building a house downtown as a school service project all day?”

  “Yes, I thought so,” Mary replied, frowning. “Give her a few minutes, and I’ll go check.”

  WASHINGTON—The first family had planned to spend Easter weekend in the Orlando area attending several large rallies with Florida congressional and senatatorial candidates. These included two incumbents who had embraced their Twenty Points. They hoped to attend a huge Easter morning service at an Orlando community church. But the march on Washington had forced them to change their plans. Some advisors had suggested that William should go on to Florida, but he had disagreed, arguing that he needed to stay in the kitchen when the heat was turned up and not run from the city just because those who opposed God’s worldview came to march.

  In fact, in conjunction with several local churches, there were prayer teams all along the parade route, silently invoking God’s help. William and his key advisors were in the Oval Office, from where they could not see the parade directly. But they watched the first half of the march on television while they reviewed dr
afts of a colorful thirty-page booklet they hoped Joe Wood’s committee would soon print. It expanded in plain but inspiring detail all the key ideas in William’s State of the Union address. The booklet included important quotes from the Bible and the Founding Fathers; an exposition on the real intent of the First Amendment from the perspective of the debates surrounding its passage; explanations of the two opposing worldviews and the implications of each one for government actions; and finally, the intended benefits of the Twenty Points.

  As the march schedule moved toward noon and the speeches at the Capitol, William, Jerry Richardson, and the others working in the White House stopped their discussion and offered a short prayer, interceding for those who denied his existence and praying for him not to turn his face from their nation, despite the vocal public displays against him.

  RALEIGH—Mary left the others watching television and went upstairs. She knocked on Sarah’s door. When there was no answer the second time, she opened the door and found Sarah sitting on the edge of her bed, her feet resting on the sideboard, her arms around her legs and her chin on her knees. She did not even look up when her mother opened the door.

  “May I come in?” Mary asked. When there was still no response she closed the door behind her, walked over, and sat down next to her daughter. Sarah did not acknowledge her presence.

  After a few minutes of sitting silently together, Mary finally began, “Sarah, if—”

  Without looking toward her mother, Sarah interrupted her, speaking with her head still resting on her knees. “Mother, you might as well know...I’m not a virgin any more. I haven’t been for three months. I slept with Matthew right after New Year’s. It seemed so much more natural than that stupid computer machine, and it was. Then almost immediately, just like you and everyone else told me, sex changed our relationship, then ruined it. I’m home now because I finally put my foot down and refused to go to a hotel with him when we were supposed to be building a house. He kept pressuring me, but I said no. He told me that sharing our love was more mature than building a house for poor people, and I told him he was wrong. I guess he’d made big plans, thinking I’d go along, because he got pretty mad, and here I am. I wish I could cry, but I’m just too mad. Mad at me, mad at him, and mad at that machine. I feel like it blinded me and robbed me of so much. I can’t cry right now, but I want you to know that you were right, and I’m very, very sorry.” Still, she stared at the wall.

  Mary was silent. When Sarah had said she’d slept with Matthew, it was as though a knife pierced Mary’s heart, and she lost her breath at the same instant. But as her daughter continued, although Mary’s anguish didn’t decrease, it was mixed with concern for her daughter’s well being and then with admiration for her decision. As Sarah finished, Mary wanted to hold her for all she’d been through, punish her for being so stupid, and praise her for being so brave.

  As these emotions moved through Mary, Sarah finally turned her head to look at her mother, and their eyes met. They looked at each other for several heartbeats, then finally Sarah’s eyes grew moist. She turned her head away, but Mary slid over close to her and put her arm around her. “Sarah...I...I was so worried about that machine, but then I...I’m sorry...I should have been more forceful in opposing it. I’m so...”

  Sarah sat up and looked at her mother. “Mom, you did all you could. I was just stupid. You told me exactly what would happen. Katherine told me. Our youth advisors at church told me. I heard. I just didn’t want to believe you. And I can’t blame that machine completely. I’m the one who did it. Oh, Mom, I just wish”—and now the tears started in earnest—“I just wish I hadn’t been so dumb. I’ve messed up big time, and I’m so sorry. I wish I could take it back. I’m sorry. I know I did it, but I feel like that machine and Ms. Bowers lied to us—they only told us half the story. Mom, am I right to feel like that?”

  Mary hugged Sarah to her when she started to cry. “Oh, Sarah, I don’t know right now. I’m sorry for you, but proud of you, too, for understanding what has happened and for standing firm, finally, with Matthew. That took a lot of courage, and I’m so glad you found it within you to do it.” She pulled back and looked Sarah in the eye again. “And whether we hate that machine and Ms. Bowers or not, we sure ought to try to keep other kids from going through what you’ve gone through, don’t you think?”

  Sarah wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yes.”

  “Well, maybe some good can come out of this mess,” Mary tried to smile.

  “I hope so, Mom, because I don’t feel very good right now.”

  Twenty minutes later Mary descended the stairs, wiping her eyes with a tissue, and rejoined Graham and the Williamses in the den. Mary walked over to the sofa and sat down. “Cynthia, I think you’ve just found two new recruits for your team.”

  WASHINGTON—Leslie climbed the stairs to the temporary platform from which the U.S. Network planned to cover the speeches that day. She reflected on some of the strange groups she had seen in that morning’s march. They had, for the most part, been edited into television oblivion. But she had seen them, nevertheless, up close and personal. And a small hairline crack appeared in her otherwise solid support of everything “inclusive” and progressive. Do those people represent the world I’d want my children to grow up in? she found herself thinking, and then admitting how bizarre and unlike her that thought was. As she reached the top she saw Ryan smiling at her, so she suppressed the thought and sank into her chair.

  “Good job on the parade,” Ryan said. “Warner Watts is the first speaker from the podium.”

  Senator Watts had been leaning toward opposing the transformed president when the vice president called him and indicated that his name was under strong consideration for a Cabinet post in her new administration, to be formed in November after Harrison resigned. Although he and the vice president had not seen eye to eye on many domestic issues, he felt that he might be able to bring a voice of reason into her camp as the elder statesman. Therefore, he decided that coming out against the lame-duck president was a no-lose proposition for him.

  So Senator Watts was the first speaker at the podium on the day before Easter, and his central theme was that even though he was a fiscal conservative, he believed the president had no right to require that anyone proclaim a Christian worldview in order to be elected to Congress. He never mentioned that William had only suggested it for the voters’ consideration.

  After Watts came a congressman, an actress, a talk show host, and an elder statesman, all restating in one way or another that the government had worked fine, thank you, for a long time, that the nation was not nearly as bad off as William had portrayed, and that the American people should not be fooled by snake-oil Christianity of the type being offered by William Harrison. “True Christians should recoil,” the statesman proclaimed, “at the presumptuousness of this man to try to think for them!”

  Between the speeches, Leslie and Ryan’s commentary was marginally neutral, but they only talked about those who were opposed to the president, and only in glowing terms.

  Forty minutes after Watts began the speeches, Leslie announced on camera, “And now, just before the vice president herself addresses this huge crowd on the Mall, estimated by some to be as many as half a million people, the other guests on the platform will be introduced.”

  The master of ceremonies, a superstar Hollywood actor, introduced the leaders of several organizations opposed to the president’s new course. “And now one final guest. Ladies and gentlemen, here is someone special, someone who saw what happened to the president first-hand. Bruce Tinsley was Rebecca Harrison’s close friend for over a year. In fact, they were considering marriage when he, due to his own conscience, had to end their relationship after the woman he loved seemed to embrace the ideas of her brother, the president. He is with us today at a very difficult time—Bruce buried his mother on Tuesday after a long illness—so please welcome Bruce Tinsley.”

  Bruce stepped forward and acknowledged the applaus
e with a wave to the crowd.

  For William and all the members of his family watching the events in their homes, Bruce’s presence on the stage was unexpected and particularly devastating because it was so personal. The president hardly heard the introduction of his former running mate, Patricia Barton-North, who referred to him throughout her speech as “poor William.”

  The thrust of her speech was that William had created a historic crossroads, and it was time to vote, as William had asked, for a worldview; but one had to vote for a worldview that represented the future, not the distant past.

  Except for her personal references to William, her speech was not so much an attack on him—she didn’t need to after the six preceding speakers—as it was a recounting of all that she was prepared to do in her administration to insure that good things happened to people in need, from welfare grants to mass transportation to disease research to women’s rights. “And we won’t have to wait for miracles,” she concluded. “We’ll roll up our sleeves and tackle these issues in the finest American tradition of cooperation, hard work, and logical, rational thinking. In my administration, human dignity won’t take second place to any ancient myth or superstition. In November, please support women and men who share your needs and goals, not those who think they’re somehow better than you because God supposedly talks to them. While they’re wringing their hands over ancient rituals, we’ll solve your problems. Count on it! Vote for common sense in November. Thank you.”

  No one in the Oval Office had spoken while Patricia gave her speech. As she finished, the president was slumped in his chair like someone who had been dealt a knock-out blow. He knew he had to get up and say something positive to his team, but he felt too stunned to move. How did what we’re doing get so far off track? They twist everything, and they sound right! I’d believe them, if I didn’t know they’re lying. The Father of Lies is winning. Somehow we have to get the real word out, but with most of the media opposed to us, how will we ever do it? If we really are going to win this battle one heart at a time, we’ve got a lot of hearts to go, and I’m not sure we can possibly touch so many in so little time. How will we do it? I don’t think we possibly can.