How much of this was a first-rate acting job?
The President's intense blue eyes circled the room, stopping for a moment on each face. He seemed to be judging us, but more important, communicating with us individually. 'I've been thinking a great deal about this current, unfortunate situation.
Sally and I have talked about it upstairs, late into the night, several nights in a row. I've been thinking about Jack and Jill too much, in fact. For the past few days, this miserable three-ring circus has been the focus, and a major distraction to the executive branch of our government. It's already disrupted cabinet meetings and played havoc with everyone's schedule. This situation simply can't be allowed to continue. It's bad for the country, for our people, for everybody's mental health, including my own and Sally's. It makes us look weak and unstable to the rest of the world. A threat by a couple of kooks can't be permitted to disrupt the government of the United States. We can't allow that to happen.
“As a consequence, I've made a tough decision, which ultimately has to be mine to make. I'm sharing it with you this morning, because the decision will affect all of you as well as Sally and me.”
President Byrnes let his eyes quickly roam around the room again. I didn't know where this was going yet, but the process was fascinating to me. The President led us a step, then he checked to make sure we were still with him. He was clearly issuing an order, but he made it seem as if he were still seeking some consensus in the room.
“We simply have to return to business-as-usual at the White House. We have to do that. The United States can't be held hostage to real or imagined dangers or threats. That's the decision I'm making, and it goes into effect at the end of today We have to move on, to move ahead with our programs.”
As the President told us his decision, there was uneasy movement in the room. Ann Roper groaned out loud. Don Ham-erman dropped his head down low, close to his knees. I kept my eyes pinned on the President.
'I fully understand that this makes your jobs more difficult, to say the very least. How in hell can you protect me if I won't cooperate, won't follow your recommendations? Well, I can't cooperate anymore. Not if it means sending a message to the world that a couple of psychopaths can completely alter our government.
Which is exactly what is happening. It's happened, folks.
“Starting tomorrow, I'm back on my regular schedule. There will be no further debate on that subject. Sorry, Don.” He looked at his chief of staff as he officially rejected his advice.
“I've also decided to make my scheduled visit to New York City on Tuesday Sorry again, Don, Jay I wish the best to all of us on our appointed tasks. You do your jobs, please. I'll try to do mine. We will have absolutely no regrets, no matter what happens from this point on. Is that understood?”
“Understood, sir.” Everyone in the room nodded yes. Every eye was intensely focused on the President, mine included.
President Byrnes had been both impassioned and impressive.
Absolutely no regrets, I repeated the phrase inside my head.
I was sure I'd remember it for the rest of my life, no matter what happened, no matter what Jack and Jill had planned from here on.
Thomas Byrnes had just put his life on the line, really on the line.
The President had just put his life in our hands.
“By the way, Don,” President Byrnes said to Hamerman as the meeting was starting to break up. “Have somebody run out and get me a goddamn dog. I think I need a friend.”
We all laughed, even if we didn't quite feel up to it.
THAT NIGHT it snowed about an inch in Washington. The temperature dropped way down into the teens. The Truth School killer woke up feeling scared. Feeling very alone. Feeling trapped.
Feeling quite sad, actually.
No happy, happy. No joy, joy.
He was in a cold, greasy sweat that grossed him out completely In a dream that he remembered now, he had been murdering people, then burying them under a fieldstone fireplace at his grandparents' country home in Leesburg. He'd been having that same dream for years, ever since he could remember, ever since he was a kid.
But was it a dream, or had I committed the grisly murders?
he wondered as he opened his eyes. He tried to focus on the surroundings. Where the hell am I?
Then he remembered where he was, where he had come to sleep for the night. What a mindblower! What a cool idea he'd had.
The song, his song, blared inside his head:
I'm a loser, baby So why don't you kill me?
This hiding place was cool as shit. Or maybe he was just being too stupid and careless. Cool as shit? Or dumb and dumber?
You be the judge.
He was in his own house, up on the third floor.
He wrapped his mind around the idea that he was “safe and sound” for now. Man, he loved the power of that thought.
He was in total control. He was mission control. He could be as big and important as Jack and Jill. Hell, he could be bigger and better than those trippy assholes. He knew that he could. He could stomp Jack and Jill's asses.
He felt around on the floor for his trusty backpack. Where the hell is his stuff?... Okay. There it is. Everything
