“Is Cat Diaz still working there in the press corps?” Jimmie asked.
“She was your boss at the Daily Blabber, wasn’t she? Fired you, right? If it’s going to be a problem for you to work together, we can revoke her credentials.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he said. “Do you know if she’s still seeing that reporter from the Times? Lester Dorset. Always flashing that Pulitzer of his around like he won the Super Bowl.”
“I don’t keep up with the latest gossip,” Emma said. “Isn’t that your specialty?”
Jimmie didn’t say anything.
Emma looked at her phone. “Time’s up. What’ll it be? Ready to return home?”
Jimmie grunted.
“So is that disgusting noise a yes? I really need to be on my way.”
“What’s the alternative, again?”
“I think you know that.”
“Because you’ve told me before?”
“Because you’re not as stupid as you pretend to be. If I leave you here, you’ll be thrown back into San Miguel after you’re healed. Imagine what will happen to you after a month. After a year.” She paused. “After ten years.”
In another decade, Jimmie would be in his forties. A decade after that, his fifties. Was there anything after that? He thought back to the old man coughing in the tunnel, the old man who was going to die in San Miguel. How many of the migrants would kill for the opportunity Jimmie was being handed?
He would accept the job. For that old man and for every migrant who had ever dreamed of a better life and fallen short.
He’d accept it primarily to avoid returning to jail, of course.
Secondly, for a chance to show up his ex.
Thirdly, for the steady paycheck.
But fourthly, for those poor souls who hadn’t been blessed with the talent to turn prose into paychecks. He’d pour out a little liquor for them when he returned to the States-not much, because Trump Whiskey was expensive. But enough to say he’d done it, and that was all that mattered.
Excerpt From the Trump/Dorset Sessions
May 23, 2018, 6:58 PM
President Trump: You’re very lucky to be talking to me. I’m very busy now, you know. I have hundreds of very important meetings every week. You can’t imagine how important these meetings are. High-pressure negotiations, which I am very good at. I’m amazing at negotiating. I’m going to bring you to some meetings so you can see. You’re going to love these meetings. I have the best meetings. Are you going to ask me any questions?
Lester Dorset: Ah, yes… During your administration, the lawmaking process seems to have come to a standstill. You’ve vetoed nearly ninety percent of the bills that have crossed your desk.
Trump: You always reject the first offer.
Dorset: Both the House and Senate are controlled by Republicans. You would think they would be on common ground with you.
Trump: Listen, I may have campaigned as a Republican, but I’m no more a Republican than that crazy-haired garden gnome Bernie was a Democrat. That stuff’s just letters after your name on the ballot; it doesn’t mean anything. The GOP totally disrespected me.
Dorset: And now you’re disrespecting them?
Trump: I don’t forget. I don’t forget, okay? So, yeah, there’s a little bit of that. Bottom line, though, is that they’re grandstanding. They’re playing politics. I’m issuing executive orders.
Dorset: One of your signature projects, the Even Greater Wall, is only halfway complete because Congress refuses to fund your executive orders. Your critics have characterized it as the “Wall to Nowhere.”
Trump: It has nothing to do with Congress. As you know, Mexico agreed to pay for the damned thing-just like I said they would. Unfortunately, their check bounced. Not a great way to convince the world your country’s not full of rapists. Just saying. So construction has been halted for the time being. There’s that saying, “Trump Tower wasn’t built in a day.” Nobody’s ever undertaken a project of this magnitude before. Except for maybe the Chinese, who had a much smaller border to defend.
Dorset: The Great Wall of China is four thousand miles long; the US-Mexico border is just about half that.
Trump: US-Mexico is just the first phase. Phase two is the Canadian border. Five thousand more miles, baby. And let’s not forget our borders with the oceans. Once Congress opens the purse for me, China can suck it.
Dorset: I wasn’t aware there were any troubles with Canadians entering our country illegally. Or… fish.
Trump: Securing our borders is about more than immigration. What if some Kardashian sneaks across with a dirty bomb? Somebody had to do something about the Kardashian problem. Nobody wanted to talk about it but me. So that’s why you’ve seen me take other steps, like revoking Kim and Kanye’s passports.
Dorset: This supposed connection between Kardashians and terrorism has been refuted many times over. The facts-
Trump: The fact is, there are terrorists everywhere over there-Iran, Kazakhstan, and Kardashia. You can’t refute that.
Monday, August 27, 2018
Chapter Five
Hammer Time
Jimmie searched for glimpses of the new golden exterior of the White House through the buildings as his car drove up Connecticut Avenue. “Traffic on Sixteenth is restricted due to the glare issue,” his driver said.
They inched through traffic, and-there it was. The gleaming columns, the burnished eaves. The word “TRUMP” spanning the facade.
It was all too beautiful to be real. People actually lived here?
Not people, he thought. The Trumps.
The first family, like others before them, had moved into the White House’s Executive Residence, which was sandwiched between the East and West Wings. From what Jimmie had read, there had been some chatter about building an entirely new residence on the grounds. A Trump Wing, financed entirely by Trump himself. However, Trump had ultimately decided against a new structure. The return on his investment would be nil-he couldn’t take it with him when he left office. Donating it to the federal government was a ridiculous proposition even for the most altruistic philanthropist. Instead, the real estate mogul had overhauled the existing residence. Trump had even gone so far as to move the bedrooms to the third floor so that he could turn the second floor into one giant State Dining Room.
“We’ll do a lap before we pull in,” his driver said. The car circled the grounds, giving Jimmie a firsthand look at the new features he’d only seen on TV.
Turning down Constitution Avenue gave Jimmie a great view of the fountain. The Haupt Fountains may have been nice, but they were nothing compared to the Bellagio Fountains that Trump had shipped in from Vegas.
Through the cascades of water, Jimmie could see the new White House golf course on the South Lawn. Eisenhower had a putting green; Trump had an entire eighteen-hole course designed by Jack Nicklaus. From what he could see, the ninth green had almost recovered from its trampling during the 2018 Easter Egg Roll. President Trump had asked all the children to wear golf spikes, but it turned out most kids didn’t have them. A week later, Trump launched his public-private initiative to provide golf shoes to underprivileged youth. It would have gone over better had he not slashed funding for science education a month earlier.