“I resent that. I made a controlled landing,” Jake replied. “A hard landing, yes, but it was controlled.”
Karin threw her arms around him. “Oh,” she said. “When I heard you had been brought in I was scared to death.”
“It’s nice to be worried about,” Jake said. “But really, it was no big thing.”
“Hah, no big thing, my foot. I heard some of the other aviators talking about it. You lost your tail rotor but were able to land. Everyone is calling you a hero.”
“A hero?” Jake said. He smiled. “Yeah, I’ll accept that.”
“Well, now, don’t let it go to your head,” Karin teased. “You are hard enough to be around as it is.”
“Really? How do you manage to be around me so much?”
“Because I’m a saint. Didn’t you know that?” Karin asked. She kissed him.
“Careful. What if one of the other nurses came in now and caught you cavorting with a patient?”
“I’d tell them to get their own patient,” Karin replied with a broad smile.
“I’m off tomorrow,” Jake said. “Because of the aircraft incident, I’m supposed to take a forty-eight-hour stand-down. What about you?”
“I’m not off until next Tuesday, but I can trade with one of the other nurses.”
“Come over to the house, we’ll watch our new president be sworn in.”
Friday, January 20
The pictures on the TV screen, taken from cameras stationed all through the nation’s capitol, showed throngs of people ecstatically cheering as the car bearing President-elect Mehdi Ohmshidi drove by, headed for the capitol steps.
It is estimated that the crowd gathered in Washington for the inauguration of our nation’s first ever foreign-born president numbers well over two million people.
The television reporter was speaking in breathless excitement.
The excitement is contagious and the atmosphere electric—enough to send a tingle running up this reporter’s leg. History is being made here today. President-elect Ohmshidi is the first person ever to take advantage of the twenty-eighth amendment to the Constitution repealing Article Two, Section One and making any naturalized citizen eligible to be president of the United States. Think of it. America is now the world and the world is now America.
Jake was in his living room, eating popcorn and drinking a root beer as he watched the inaugural proceedings.
Jake had not voted for Ohmshidi, but then he had not really been enthusiastic about the other candidate either. His vote, as he had explained it to Karin, had been more against Ohmshidi, than it had been for Admiral Benjamin Boutwell, the former chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Jake had often declared that if he had omnipotent power he would replace everyone in government, regardless of their party, with someone new.
Ohmshidi had risen to national prominence as the federal prosecutor who tried the case against Masud Izz Udeen. Izz Udeen was an Islamic terrorist who released sarin gas into the ventilation system of Madison Square Garden, killing over seven hundred Americans.
As Izz Udeen received his sentence of death, he pronounced a fatwa against Ohmshidi and implored Muslims of the world to martyr themselves if need be in order to kill Ohmshidi. The fatwa against him, along with his successful prosecution of Izz Udeen, propelled Ohmshidi to national prominence, resulting in his election to President of the United States.
Jake watched as Ohmshidi stood on the steps of the nation’s capitol building with his right hand raised, and his left hand very pointedly not on the Bible, but hanging by his side. The chief justice of the United States administered the oath of office, then concluded with, So help me, God.
Ohmshidi responded with, And this I, Mehdi Ohmshidi, affirm.
“Damn,” Jake said aloud, speaking to himself. “What was that about?”
Ohmshidi moved to the microphone to present his inaugural address.
My fellow Americans. As your new president I make you this promise. It is not a campaign promise; it is not a mere statement of ambition. It is a promise that will be fulfilled. On this day we are embarking upon a world-altering journey that will bring about a new paradigm in American culture. This fundamental change will enable the poorest among us to share in the bounty of this, the wealthiest nation in the world. I will accomplish this goal by requiring more from those who have greatly profited by the opportunities offered them.
That means that the wealthiest among us will have to do their fair share in order to make all our citizens truly equal. But from their sacrifice will emerge a new order. Think of it. No more will there be people with no place to lay their heads, with no food upon their tables, without adequate health care, and with none of the finer things that make life worthwhile.
Such a thing has long been the goal of compassionate people, and in the past we have introduced welfare programs, food stamps, aid to dependent children, Medicaid, Medicare, and yes, even Social Security, to move in that direction. But any economist will tell you that all those programs have failed. I will not fail. We will have, before I complete my first four years, a universal program of shared wealth.
There was a light tap on the door, and when it was pushed open Captain Karin Dawes stuck her head in.
“It’s me,” she called.
“Come on in, Karin,” Jake invited. “You’re late. I’ve eaten almost all the popcorn already.”
Karin walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door. “Don’t you ever buy any kind of soft drink except root beer?”
“There is no soft drink except root beer.”
“What a deprived life you have lived,” Karin said as she grabbed one. “What have I missed?” She settled on the sofa beside him, pulling her legs up and leaning against him.
“Not much. Ohmshidi just admitted that he was a communist.”
Karin popped the tab, and the root beer can spewed a fine mist. “You’re kidding me!”
“Well, he as much as did. He’s talking about sharing the wealth.”
“Oh, that’s all. Now, tell me the truth, Jake. Wouldn’t you like to have some of Bill Gates’s money?” Karin asked as she took a swallow of her drink.
“Not unless I did something to earn it. I believe in a fair wage for honest work, but I certainly don’t believe in taking money from the successful to give to the losers who voted for this bozo.”
“Come on, give him a chance. He hasn’t been president for more than an hour, and you are already picking on him.”
“It took him less than fifteen minutes to show his true colors,” Jake said. “And forget the people who were calling him a pinko during the election. He isn’t pink; he is red through and through.”
Karin laughed. “Jake, I can’t believe you are such a troglodyte. Just calling you a right-wing wacko doesn’t quite get it. You are to the right of Attila the Hun. Are all Amish that way?”
“If you mean do they want to do for themselves, the answer is yes. And I agree with them. I didn’t abandon everything the Amish believe in when I left the Life,” Jake said. “I’m still a strong believer in the idea of individual self-reliance, rather than depending on the government for everything.”
“He can’t be all that bad,” Karin said as she turned her attention to the TV screen. Ohmshidi was still talking.
“I thought you told me you didn’t vote for him.”
“I didn’t vote for him, but millions of Americans did.”
“I know. That’s what frightens me.”
“You will share the wealth tonight though, won’t you?”