Hulagu's Web The Presidential Pursuit of Katherine Laforge

by David Hearne

  After she outlined her simple needs, we all sat stone silent. Kat then broke our silence once more.

  “If any of you do decide that this is of interest to you, please understand that our relationship will be a sacred covenant. Breaking it could result in dire consequences for all concerned. You cannot discuss my request with any one, not even your wives.” She smiled at each of us and said, “Okay, let’s have fun again and toast to renewed friendships.”

  With a click of glasses the conversation ended, and we all blended back into the reunion talking about old cars, strange diseases, divorces, kids and how great music used to be.

  My mind was racing. All I wanted to do was to hold Stacie and forget about Kat and our little discussion. Moments like these reminded me of how important Stacie is to my sanity, and how lucky and strange it is that we are together. In the background, Blue Moon by the Marcel’s was playing, and the words just seemed to say it for me.

  Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone

  Without a dream in my heart

  Without a love of my own

  Blue Moon, you knew just what I was there for

  You heard me saying a prayer for

  Someone I really could care for

  And then there suddenly appeared before me

  The only one my arms will ever hold

  I heard somebody whisper, ´Please adore me´

  And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold

  Stacie and I had our last dance and said the compulsory “goodbyes” to everyone. I noticed then that Kat had already left as her limousine and entourage were gone from the parking lot.

  As we headed north on Route 12, we knew we were back to the present as WYRY played Lee Greenwood singing, “God Bless The U.S.A.” I found myself emotionally pumped up from my meeting with Senator Laforge, and found conversation difficult with Stacie. This triggered an automatic fear in her that something was wrong, or that I was melancholy from meeting with all my old classmates. I wanted to tell her what Senator Laforge had discussed with me, but I was not really sure what it all meant, or if she would even call as she had promised. I was not sure if talking to Stacie about this would expose her to danger. I decided to give her a very condensed version. I told her that the Senator wanted to stay in contact, and that she invited me to call her anytime, day or night. Stacie was into the political scene, so she appreciated this future relationship with the Senator. I had just finished giving her a run down on Kat, Vince and Tom, when my cell phone rang. It was Senator Laforge. “Hello, are you surprised, I called you so soon?”

  “Yes, but glad you did.”

  Kat responded back, “Are you interested in talking more about our new friendship?”

  “Yes”, I hesitantly said.

  “Great, well let’s meet at the Miss Bellows Falls Diner tomorrow at 2:00 PM., would that be a convenient time for you?”

  “Hell, I am retired. Anytime is convenient.”

  The Senator chuckled and said, “Good, remember our meeting is private, just between you and I.”

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “It was great seeing you again, and I will be thinking about you and your family tonight. See you tomorrow!”

  The call ended, so I folded my cell phone, and placed it back into my shirt pocket.

  Stacie turned to me and gave me, her what-did-she-say stare. Under her withering look, I told her the truth that we were going to meet the next day at the Miss Bellows Falls Diner. Somehow she knew that she was not invited, and blessed the meeting by telling me that she was happy that I would get to see an old friend again. Astonishingly enough, she dropped the subject and just cuddled up against me as we drove home.

  While driving along Route 12, which wound its way alongside the Connecticut River, I found myself engrossed in a Radio talk show. The host was engaging his listeners in a spirited debate on the problem the UN faced with weapon checks in Iraq. A lady called in and expressed her disgust with Bush because he talked tough on Iraq, but didn’t do anything to back it up. She commented on how Clinton did not allow Saddam to snub us. She said she was glad he bombed the crap out of Iraq in 98, because Saddam would not allow the UN to search for Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD). The next caller wanted to know what world she was from, because he felt it was obvious that Clinton bombed Iraq to divert attention or complicate the vote on impeaching him that day on Dec. 16, 1998, which did not eliminate the problem.

  I was glad the program was lively because I was fighting falling asleep and needed something controversial to listen to as I drove home. Stacie had already fallen asleep in the passenger seat.

  The commentator expanded on Clinton’s attack explaining ‘Operation Desert Fox’ as a way to thwart Saddam’s ability to threaten his neighbors with nuclear, chemical or biological weapons. He paraphrased Clinton as saying he recognized other countries had weapons of mass destruction, but Hussein was in a different category because he had used such weapons against his own people, both Kurds and Iranians. The radio host explained that Clinton’s 100-hour attack on Iraq consisted of firing four hundred fifteen, 1.5 million dollar cruise missiles and 600 laser guided bombs at pre-selected targets associated with Iraq’s WMD programs.

  The show’s host cited President Clinton’s argument that the attack was necessary, because without a strong inspection system in place, Iraq could rebuild its chemical, biological and nuclear programs in months, not years.

  Another person called in stating Clinton was no better than Saddam, because he authorized the slaughter of his own people at Waco, Texas and eighty-two people were killed because of allegations that Koresh had produced illegal weapons, sawed off shotguns or whatever. The talk show host disconnected the caller. I am not sure why because certainly the massacre did happen, and Clinton was President at the time. The Host ignored the caller’s comments and instead interjected a quote from Clinton’s speech regarding the reason he launched the attack on Iraq in Ninety Eight. “If we turn our backs on his defiance (Saddam), the credibility of U.S. power as a check against Saddam will be destroyed.” I wanted to call in myself and bring up the point that ‘Operation Desert Fox’ did not succeed, because now we have a third administration faced with the same old festering Iraq problem.

  Before I could dial my phone, a nervous listener from Boston called in and went into his unique theory for the many problems in the Middle East. He said that 1998 marked the third manifestation of 666, ushering in a new coming of the demonic evil of Sorat, the true Antichrist. The caller claimed he was a priest and wanted all to know that in the next few years’ great evil will happen to test our faith. The announcer chided the caller about being a little extreme, but the Priest pressed on with a dire warning that this demon’s goal is to strip humans of their souls, egos and all goodness. He said, “Sorat’s evil will be spread by his infernal army of soulless followers willing to give their life for his pleasure of subjecting mankind to horror of the ultimate magnitude.” The host thanked him for his views and let out a big sigh of relief as he disconnected the caller.

  The show was entertaining, but I still found myself thinking about my meeting with Senator Laforge the next day. I hoped my excitement over the Sunday afternoon meeting would not bring on one of my dreaded headaches. Kat’s chance of being a major contender for the presidency seemed such a remote possibility to me. I wondered how sincere she was in her expectations of winning the presidency from an incumbent. The truth was I had no idea of what I was about to embark upon. In fact had I known, it all would have been inconceivable to me that night.

  A year and a half has passed since that hot July summer night. I had been standing transfixed in front of the bathroom mirror for a minute or so, watching the moisture on the glass, getting lost deep in my many thoughts of the past. My face slowly took shape again in the mirror, and I leaned forward, resting my arms on the sink, studying my salt and pepper hair stuck in matted clumps to my head. The bathroom door behind me opened and Stacie entered. She put her arms around me
, kissed the back of my neck and silently comforted me. It was obvious to me that she had heard the news, and was not sure of what to say to me about Senator Laforge. Her silence and gentleness were more than enough.

  Part TWO

  Miss Bellows Falls

  I pulled my naked self away from the mirror and Stacie’s encircling arms, and stepped into the shower. My eyes were now moist from the raw emotions raging deep inside of me, and I wanted the water to wash away the evidence. The steaming pulsating shower hit my back and immediately started to relax me. I leaned towards the shower’s back wall and closed my eyes, letting the blanket of cascading hot water sooth my body and mind. The drone of the shower blanked out the bedroom’s radio still blasting out news of the snowy crime scene on Route 12. I felt Stacie kiss my wet shoulder and her soft hands move across my back, as she tried to hurry me up, so we could leave sooner. She closed the shower door and my thoughts jumped back to speculating on the attack of Kat’s campaign bus earlier that January morning. As the stream of warm water calmed me, my memories of my meeting with Katherine back in July of 2001 floated back into my consciousness. I remembered the excitement I felt the day after the class reunion, and how the morning dragged on until 1:10 PM when I finally climbed into my car and drove to Bellows Falls.

  * * * *

  The Miss Bellows Falls Diner stands on the west side of Rockingham Street. The thirty foot long diner was a favorite place that we use to frequent as teenagers. Meeting here was certainly a little nostalgic for Katherine, but you could also find privacy here. The Diner had a distinctive barrel roof and porcelain enameled metal sheathing, the latter having a polychrome color scheme. The Miss Bellows Falls diner retained its original appearance over the last 50 years in spite of adding all types of modern conveniences.

  I arrived about thirty minutes early to make sure I was on time for this meeting. I parked my car on the south side of the Diner and walked to the big chrome door of the entrance vestibule. Fortunately, most people were sitting at the counter leaving three booths open. The booths were oak with a red Formica topped table. They were designed for four people and had a metal clothes post attached to its aisle end. I selected a table in the far corner of the diner, which offered a clear view of everyone coming and going. I indicated that I would have company and ordered a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie. I had not been here for quite some time and the elegance of the polychrome enameled metal panels gracing the walls and the long Formica topped counter still excited my passion for the past.

  As I sat back to wait for Kat, the diner’s old jukebox entertained me with a new country tune by the Jamie Talbert Band. Before the song ended, my waitress was back at my table with my coffee and a hot piece of apple pie topped with a slice of Vermont Cheddar cheese. A coffee stained newspaper that had been left behind on the counter caught my eye, and I confiscated it. The headlines read, “President Mohammad Khatami – tells Bush to stop insulting Iran” and below that was a story about “Four Boston police officers hospitalized after scuffle.” A more cheery story was a review about the movie “Road to Perdition” with Tom Hanks. I started to read the article, just as I noticed a sedan pull up with a man and woman in it. The man was dressed in a nice suit and Kat was in a blouse and jeans, carrying a very elegant briefcase. Katherine was coming in alone.

  She waved to me for a second as she stood in the vestibule and then walked the twenty-five feet or so to my booth. She gracefully slid into it and placed her briefcase on the adjacent seat. Katherine told the waitress who came over that six others were joining us, and she wanted to order their food now, and save the table right behind us for them. The waitress took the large order and agreed to reserve the table behind us for them. Kat told her to just set out everyone’s diet cokes, but hold their food until they arrive. Before I had a chance to embarrass myself by asking about who the others were she winked at me and said, “This buys us a bit more privacy. And the citizens of Texas want to buy you lunch so order whatever you want.” She was good at making things work her way.

  Her ploy was just in time because as the waitress left our table, a couple walked into the diner. The guy was a tall seedy character wearing a black leather vest and worn jeans. His muscular arms displayed a multitude of tattoos. At his side was a sparsely clad lady with a very sexual demeanor. They walked directly towards the tables that Kat had just reserved.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but those seats are taken,” the waitress exclaimed, as the couple prepared to sit in the booth behind Kat.

  “Taken? What do you mean? A joint like this don’t need no reservations,” the man angrily retorted.

  The waitress nervously responded, “Um, sir, those seats are reserved for the rest of this couple’s party, and they have already ordered their food.” The waitress nodded towards the Senator.

  The burly man glared at the waitress and grabbed his lady friend by the arm and swung her around. He did not reply back to the waitress, but shot a piercing look at me as he sauntered over to the counter just a few steps from our booth.

  I watched them as they took seats at the counter. The minor incident for some reason made the hairs on my arm stand up and a shiver ripple through my spine. On the back of his vest was the name of some motorcycle group, which was unreadable to me without my glasses. I reached for them just as Kat snapped her fingers in front of my face. I smiled at her and apologized for being so easily distracted, but those two were peculiar.

  I stayed focused on Katherine now and told her how very honored I felt to be someone she still trusted and would consider as her friend and confidant. She smiled impishly and said “friends are a hard commodity to find anymore.” She said she was even happier than I at having my friendship back in her life. Once Katherine got her burgers and fries, and I had my liver and onions, she started talking quietly about the importance of our friendship. She again stressed that I should realize the seriousness of having an association with her, even a distant one, as she prepared to run for President. She portrayed our relationship as a covenant between two individuals and reminded me that once a part of a covenant; it is often difficult to walk away. If I did become involved, it could interfere in my life immensely and expose me to an invasion of my privacy and possibly place me in danger over some of the information, she might divulge. At this point, whatever she said just enticed me more to get involved. Adventure had eluded me for years and just being associated with a candidate for the presidency was exciting. Once more, I emphatically told her, “Yes, I want to be involved.”

  Katherine smiled and said, “Okay, great, then let’s have one more understanding. You do not discuss what I tell you with anyone, not even Tom or Vince. In fact, it is best for you not to talk about me at all with them, unless I specifically tell you to mention something to them. I will tell them myself that you decided against my offer, okay?”

  Again I nodded an agreement and spat out another, “okay.”

  “Great so let’s get down to business. I need to bring you up to date on my campaign, what I am involved in right now, and how you can help. First, did you catch the news about Iraq today?”

  “No, not really. I was just glancing at the newspaper when you arrived.”

  “The news is reporting that Syria is violating the U.N. embargo and delivering to Saddam, refurbished T-55 tank engines, replacement parts for T-72 tanks, military trucks and even an anti-aircraft cannon.”

  I looked at Katherine and asked her. “And what should that mean

  to me?”

  “Good question. I think it means you can count on seeing another war happening soon.”

  “I take it, you don’t believe the sanctions are going to work?”

  “Absolutely not.” She replied. “Saddam has no problem finding willing countries to supply him with weapons or spare parts for his military equipment. Look at it this way, if Syria, the sitting President of the U.N. Security Council, finds it perfectly ok to provide its old arch enemy with weapons and spare parts, why shouldn’t other coun
tries?”

  “Very good point!”

  “Many countries do it not only for the money, but because they want other nations to fight their grudges against us. It is a crazy world. During the eighties, France, Russia, and our own Reagan administration supplied Iraq with weapons to fight Iran. Israel was also supplying weapons to Iran to fuel the fires even more. We all made money from the arms deals and had our battle with Iran fought for us by Iraqis. Saddam served basically then as our proxy fighting Iran.”

  “I am sure you are right that others would like to see us in a similar situation.”

  “Most certainly, we now have our nemesis that celebrates any problems we may encounter. The Palestinians danced in the street after 9/11, and I feel certain that some officials in European countries privately gloated over the tragedy. We are tolerated, but despised by many governments. As a Senator, I have come to learn that jealousy is as rampant between governments as it is between people. Our military power and money are what insulates us from their hate and ability to destroy us.”

  “So, if you are elected President, will you have a different strategy to end the crisis with Iraq?”

  “The problem won’t wait until I am elected. I am convinced that war with Iraq is a near certainty. However, I do have a plan that I hope will remove some of the reasons we have for war with Iraq, or if all goes well, even prevent it.”

  “What is your plan?”

  “I cannot divulge it all to you, but I will tell you some of it today. Unfortunately, I have to hold back some of the plans. Actually, not all of it is even known by me. Regardless, you will know way before the general public gets wind of it.”

  “Kat, am I going to wish I had never got involved with this?”