The President awoke in a chair, bound and gagged. Oh shit…
It was dark. The room was small, and the only light came from beneath the door. Was he still in the White House? He doubted it, but then again, was he even awake? He was just about to dig his index fingernail into the cuticle of his thumb to check, when the doorknob turned. A man entered and stood silhouetted in the low light. The President could barely see his face, but once his eyes adjusted, he recognized him from somewhere.
“Why have you been communicating with our enemies?” asked the man in the doorway.
The President focused on his face. How did he know him? His memory was phenomenal, and he never forgot a face…so what was going on?
“Why have you been communicating with our enemies?” the man asked again.
“What do you mean?” he responded. “I don’t know who you are, so I wouldn’t know who ‘our’ refers to, therefore I have no context of what ‘enemies’ means to you.”
“I’ll ask once more, and if I don’t get the truth, I will help you remember.” The man stayed in the doorway. “Why have you been communicating with our enemies?”
The President closed his eyes and prayed: God, I don’t know what’s going on, but I trust you. I trust you implicitly, and I trust you will see me through this illusion.
The man stepped forward and slapped the President. That snapped him out of his prayers, but he remained calm. I can do nothing on my own, but I trust you God. He began to recite the 23rd Psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
The man sighed and left the room.
“He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.” The President’s mind raced, his thoughts kept trying to rationalize the situation or remember who the man was, but he stayed the course: “He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.”
The man walked back into the room carrying a syringe.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”
The man rolled up the President’s sleeve and injected him.
“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.”
The man stepped back into the doorway, tucking the needle away.
“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” The President took a big breath and exhaled it slowly. Ahhh, that’s much better. “Now, what did you want?”
“Why have you been communicating with our enemies?”
The President looked directly into the man’s eyes and said, “because Jesus said, ‘love thine enemies,’ and the more I practice that philosophy, the more I realize, I have no enemies, only misguided brothers and sisters who need help.”
The man radiated disgust. “Does that mean you are no longer abiding by our agreement?”
Agreement? thought the President. How do I know this man, and what was our agreement? “As long as we agreed to a harmonious nation and an evolving planet, I don’t see why I wouldn’t abide.”
The man looked slightly perplexed, “You really don’t remember…” He disappeared around the corner. The president heard the sound of rubber wheels rolling closer. The man pushed a metal cart into the doorway, arranged a small flat screen tv and turned on the power.
A video played…the President watched himself walk into a room similar to the one he was in now and sit down in front of a big screen. Other men he didn’t recognize sat around him. On the big screen played the Zapruder film of JFK’s assassination. After a quick transition, Martin Luther King came next, and then the killing of Bobby Kennedy filled the screen.
“All of these men were threats to ‘national security’,” said the man in the doorway. “If you want to remain president, you must protect our national security. If you choose to go against us, we will protect our interests and make sure you do not succeed. This is the way it always has been: your job is to protect the reputation of the government you represent. You must keep the People trusting us, so we may keep order. Without order, there is chaos. If at any time, you find yourself questioning the official narrative, remember your job…remember your family…remember your life and how lucky you are to be alive.”
The 23rd Psalm keep replaying through the President’s mind over and over: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me…
Monday, December 23, 2013
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