Ashes - Fire In The Ashes Part 28

"So help me G.o.d," Ben said.

He removed his hand from the Bible and shook the hand of the Chief Justice. Dawn and Tina kissed him, Cecil and Ike shook his hand.

The Joint Chiefs of Staff grinned at each other.

Senator Carson wiped a tear from one eye. Scenes like this always affected him. Deeply.

"Mr. President," the Chief Justice said. "I'm wondering if I'm going to have a job this time tomorrow?"

"You will as long as you don't interfere with me," Ben told him. They spoke so only they could hear.

"I don't believe I can work under those conditions, Mr. President."

"Speaking for all your colleagues?"

"Yes, sir."

"Perhaps, Justice Morgan, I am not the ogre a lot of liberals have branded me." It was not a question and the Chief Justice did not take it as such.

"Perhaps not, sir," the Justice spoke firmly, but with a slight twinkle in his eyes. "I rather doubt any man could be as terrible as the portrait that has been painted of you-by ... liberals, if you will."

"Work with me, Justice Morgan. Work with me and I'll bring honor and fair play back into this nation."

"At the point of a gun, sir?"

"If that is what it takes to convince some people, yes, sir."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. President. I wanted very badly to refuse officiating at this swearing in. But I simply could not refuse. But I do not have to be a part of martial law."

"Who said anything about martial law?"

The men had walked away from the platform, out of earshot of the press, and the press was beginning to grumble about it.

"The press doesn't like this, Mr. President," the Chief Justice said.

"f.u.c.k the press."

Justice Morgan smiled. "You see, sir, that is what I speak of. Your att.i.tude toward the press."

"Justice Morgan," Ben said. "I used to enjoy watching good news-reporting. My favorite programs on TV were well-produced and reported doc.u.mentaries. That does not include innuendoes, supposition, biased, left-leaning commentators, and non.o.bjective reporting. I don't like doubletalk, dancing around a question, sneering, rudeness, or any of a dozen other repulsive traits that can be hung on any number of reporters, print and broadcast. Are we clear on that subject, sir?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"Now what is this about martial law?"

"The military put you in office, sir. They can remove you just as easily."

"No, sir," Ben replied with a smile. "They sure as h.e.l.l cannot."

"Would you be so kind as to explain that?"

"Gladly. The Joint Chiefs of Staff will be going on nationwide TV within a week. They will publicly divorce themselves from any partic.i.p.ation in the running of the government of the United States of America. The Supreme Court-all of you-will be present as witnesses. The next night I will be on TV, explaining as many of my policies as I have worked up by that time.

"I will be in office for four years, sir. Andonly four years. During that time, my people will be reclaiming the area known as Tri-States. You do remember that area, don't you, sir?"

"How could I forget it, Mr. President?" the Chief Justice's reply was thick with sarcasm.

"Just so we know where the other stands, sir," Ben said with a smile. "After four years, I shall step down-sooner, if at all possible, and I will return to the Tri-States. There I shall live out the remainder of my years."

The Chief Justice's look was both wary and full of admiration. "All well and good, sir. But I wonder how many citizens of the United States will die during your four-year reign?"

"Just as many as choosenot to respect the basic rights guaranteed anylaw-abiding citizen of this nation.

That's how many, sir."

"Should be an interesting four years, Mr. President. And a totally unconst.i.tutional period."

"Depending entirely upon your interpretation of the const.i.tution, sir. But then, I've always felt any literate, law-abiding, tax-paying citizen had as much right to bend the const.i.tution as you people on the high bench."

That stung the Justice. "I resent the charge that we of the courtever 'bent the const.i.tution'!"

"I guess the sadness in that is you really don't believe you ever did."

Ben walked away, to hold his first press conference as president of the United States.

Taking into consideration how he felt about the press, and how the press felt about him, it was a lively one.

Only the first of many.

The people of America, on a whole, could not have cared if Big Bird occupied the Oval Office, as long as he did something to pull the ailing nation back together. Or, perhaps, that should have been: Most of the people of America. For no matter how hard one person, or a group of people try to attain what they not only felt, butknew , from years of observing the world around them, from years of laborious study of the history of civilization, or from just having the good sense to know one does not attempt to pet a rabid dog (one shoots it), there will be those who will proclaim, as loudly as possible, that they are not getting their due; that they are being discriminated against (and race has nothing to do with it); that they are being denied due process; that they are not being paid what they think they are worth. Et cetera. Ad nauseam.

Puke.

One week after Ben was sworn in as president, the groups began surfacing.

And as is so often the case, they were not made up of those who fought and bled and were tortured by Lowry's agents; nor those who made up the underground train supporting Ben's Rebels. These people are usually made up of those men and women who "just know" they are going to be a success someday; it's a little vague just how that is going to happen, since these people never seem to do much of anything toward achieving that goal-except b.i.t.c.h about how the world owes them something.

But they are loud-Lord have mercy, are they loud!

"Have you seen the headlines?" Cecil asked.

"Yes! Where in the h.e.l.l is Ike?" Ben asked, more than a note of exasperation in his tone.

"Gone off to find Captain Gray. And then they will attempt to find Jerre. They..."

"G.o.dd.a.m.nit, Cecil! I need as many of the old bunch around me as possible at this time. Where in the h.e.l.l does Ike get off..."

"Whoa!" Cecil yelled. "Jesus Christ, Ben-calm yourself. You know Ike wouldn't be happy sitting around Richmond, no matter what position you placed him in. Ben, all Ike has ever been is a farmer or a warrior-that's all he'll ever be happy at. Now, I ask again: have you seen the headlines in today's paper?"

"Which ones?" Ben asked sarcastically. "The ones that accuse me of being a racist because I told the president of the NAACP to get the h.e.l.l out of this office because I was tired of listening to him b.i.t.c.h? Or maybe the one where the AFL-CIO has accused me of being anti-labor because I ordered that pack of a.s.sholes down in Florida to either get back to work or get off the job and I'll put someone in there who would work? Or maybe it's the G.o.dd.a.m.n teachers this go-around? Eh? Oh, and let us not forget that blazing headline in theRichmond Post about me being a baby-killer because I made the statement that whatever a woman wishes to do with her body is her business and n.o.body else's. Huh? Which one is it this time around?"

Cecil sat calmly and sipped his coffee, letting Ben get it all out of his system. He knew Ben had not wanted the job; and felt pangs of guilt because he had been one of those who pressured him into taking it. But he had to smile at that, recalling just a few hours after Ben had been sworn in.

"Well, Cec," Ben had said, walking up to him at the reception. Cecil had thought the smile on Ben's face sort of resembled a tiger's smile. "What plans do you have for your immediate future?"

"Going to go back to Tri-States and get the schools and colleges open again," Cecil said, not quite comfortable with that odd smile grinning at him.

"Oh, no, you're not," Ben's smile had broadened.

"I beg your pardon, Ben?"

"You folks been complaining for years you don't have enough people in elected positions of power; that you don't have enough blacks in high government positions. Well, guess what, old buddy, old pal?"

"I don't like the way you're smiling at me, Ben."

"Don't want to play guessing games, Cec?"

"No! Why are you smiling like that? You're grinning like Lady Macbeth after a hard night with the knife."

Ben leaned close and whispered in Cecil's ear.

Cecil recoiled like he'd been touched with a cattle prod. "Not this n.i.g.g.e.r, you ain't!"

"Cec! Shame on you. I've never heard such language from a Ph.D. in all my days. The Reverend James Watson would be ashamed of you."

"f.u.c.k the Reverend James Watson, and f.u.c.k his brother, too. You're not putting me in that hotseat. I know what you plan to do with it."

"That's right," Ben said soothingly, but still with that smile. "We discussed it, didn't we?"

"Ben-I'm warning you."

But Ben had already turned around and was calling for silence in the reception hall.

"All right, people! Could I have just a moment of your time? Thank you. Now you all know what I plan to do with the vice presidency-the president and the VP will share equal power over an equal number of departments. One will not interfere with the other. And you know I have been giving considerable thought to the man or woman who would fill that slot. I have made my decision. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the new vice president of the United States: Doctor Cecil Jefferys."

While the applause was still thundering in the hall, Cecil leaned to Ben and whispered, "You honky motherf.u.c.ker."

But he was smiling, and his smile was full of love and admiration for the man who stood by him.

"No, Ben," Cecil said. "Those aren't the headlines I was referring to."

"Well, for G.o.d's sake, Cec, what else could it be?"

"The doctors. They don't like this plan of yours for a national health care program."

"Cecil," Ben said, drumming his fingertips on the top of his desk, "that is your baby. You asked for it, you got it. What we had in the Tri-States will work anywhere if the people will just give it a chance. Not all of what we had there," Ben amended. "But a great deal of the programs will. You enforce that program in any manner you choose. But make it work."

"If I have to, Ben, I'm going to get nasty with it," the first black VP in the history of America told Ben.

There was a grim look on his face.

Ben noticed the age in the man's face-for the first time he really noticed the gray in Cecil's hair, the deepening lines in the man's face.

"What are you holding back, Cec?"

"Still read me like a good book, can't you, Ben?"

Ben smiled. "What are you thinking about, Cec?"

"That time back in Indiana-about a thousand years ago."

After visiting his brother in the suburbs of Chicago, and having bitter words with the man-a man Ben felt he no longer knew-he drove fast and angry, crossing into Indiana, finding a motel. He prowled the empty rooms, finding the east wing free of stinking, rotting bodies. He gathered up sheets and pillowcases and was returning to his chosen room when he saw the dark shapes standing in the parking lot.

About a half dozen black men and women. No, he looked closer, one of the women was white-he thought.

Ben made no move to lift his SMG, but the click of his putting it off safety was very audible in the dusky stillness.

"Deserting your friends in the suburbs?" a tall black man asked. Ben could detect no hostility in his voice.

"I might ask the same of you," Ben replied.

The man laughed. "A point well taken. So ... it appears we have both chosen this motel to spend the night. But ... we were here first-quite some time. We were watching you. Which one of us leaves?"

"None of us," Ben said. "If you don't trust me, lock your doors."

The man once again laughed. "My name is Cecil Jefferys."

"Ben Raines."

"Ben Raines? Where have I heard that name? The writer?"

"Ah ... what price fame?" Ben smiled. "Yes. Sorry, I didn't mean to be flip."

"I didn't take it that way. We're in the same wing, just above you. My wife is preparing dinner now-in the motel kitchen. Would you care to join us?"

"I'd like that very much. Tired of my own cooking."

"Well, then-if you'll sling that Thompson, I'll help you with your linens."