32

Monday, February 1, 2021, 12:00 PM Pacific Standard Time

The applause came in waves toward the end of the Women’s Empowerment Event at the downtown San Francisco hotel, in response to a question from one of the audience members.

The recipient of the applause, however, was shaking her head.

“No, not gonna happen, sorry,” she said, shaking her head firmly, if a little sadly, in her seat on the stage next to the ultra-famous television star.

The audience responded with disappointment, a smattering of mock masked boos. “Nope, nope, nope,” she said.

“We have discussed this before,” said her interlocutor, seated next to her on the stage. “It’s not fair to expect her to save the world.”

***

The question session had come after a morning devoted to the theme of the gathering, Turning Inward, and an afternoon of meditation exercises and panel discussions with a series of special guests. Women, mostly of middle age, mostly but by no means all liberal, had come to get encouragement from two of their idols as they faced the inevitable disappointments and tribulations of their lives.

“You can’t get fulfillment from outside,” the global television star had assured them, as she held the stage alone earlier in the morning. “You can’t get it from wealth, from other people, from being admired. You can’t even get it from achievement.”

The women, all wearing pink and black masks embossed with the arty Women’s Empowerment logo, all nodded at the richest, most admired, most successful woman in the world; it was so obvious that you couldn’t get fulfillment from wealth or public esteem or success.

“You can only get fulfillment from within.”

Murmurs of agreement.

One woman broke the silence. “Then can I have your house?”

Laughter all around.

“I don’t think you’d want it!” the television star said, laughing herself. “I need it for fund-raisers and the like. It’s a giant pain in the… well, you know. I don’t spend too much time there.”

“I’ll take care of it for you!” the same woman said. More laughter. Even from the television star.

It was time to change the subject. “Now, ladies, I’d like to introduce someone whom I know you all know. Her new book Creating Yourself has been at the top of the New York Record bestseller list for almost a year. She used to live in a certain house in downtown Washington, DC; now she lives with her husband, who she says mostly hangs around the house when he’s not doing charity work, in the D.C. suburbs. She is a lawyer and an executive in a number of charities, and she previously worked in the health care field. She had to do a book tour anyway, so I told her, ‘Hey girlfriend, let’s go on a road trip together, maybe help some people while you’re flogging these books. ‘Thelma and Louise’-style, but with a happier ending, I hope.’”

The audience laughed.

“And she graciously agreed. So, without further ado, ladies, and the few gentlemen here, most of whom work for me,” [laughs and light applause], “Marilyn Okomo!”

Thunderous applause greeted the former First Lady as she walked slowly across the stage to the waiting armchair that was angled to face both her friend and interlocutor, and the rapturous audience. She approached the television star, and, once within about eight feet, they both mimed a hug from a distance, and half-collapsed in laughter. Then they came to each other and hugged in earnest. They released each other as the applause began to attenuate. The former First Lady went over to her seat and sat down.

“We can do that, we can hug,” she said to the audience. “You all should be careful, even the President and his wife got this, but we two” – here she gestured to the other woman – “we’re kind of a unit after 50 cities of this. Anything she’s got, I’ve got, and vice-versa.”

“Well, you’ve probably got whatever he’s got, by now.” She seemed to realize what that sounded like, and widened her eyes and covered her mouth while looking at the audience.

“Well… maybe not EVERYTHING.”

“Well, he’s a very healthy man.”

“Yes, he is. It’s kind of disgusting. Blood pressure’s nothing over nothing. Surprised he’s still alive.”

They had played this act dozens of times now, with virtually the same lines. The audience was the thing that made it possible to repeat these rehearsed lines as though they had just arisen in the moment, she decided. They were eating it up. They clearly thought they were part of her private inner circle now. Is that dangerous? she thought. I hope it doesn’t somehow come back to bite us.

“So, tell us all about this book,” the television star said.

“Well, it’s been out a while now. I felt I needed to do something to force myself to prepare for the rest of my life, after we were released from prison – I mean the White House.”

The audience laughed.

“Of course, it turns out that once you’ve been in there, you’re never really released. We have the Secret Service around all the time. It’s probably worse for the kids. They have had this all around them, inescapable, their whole lives.”

“It’s got to be hard for them. I mean, you and I more or less chose this for ourselves.”

“Well, YOU did.”

The audience laughed at this.

“So, you feel…”

“I… well, as you know, I was not happy with the prospect of a presidential run back in 2008. I did accept it, and go along with it, knowing it was going to be over after four or eight years. Certainly, I was more a part of the decision process, and more aware of what we might be getting into, than the kids were. But obviously it was not my idea.”

“Okay. So, you did not enjoy that experience at all?”

“Well, life is what you make of it. I did my best to use my position for good. Certainly, there was some fulfillment from that. And we had a wonderful group of people there, committed, caring, dedicated people. I actually miss them now. I didn’t have time to really appreciate that back then.”

“So, what do you think about what’s going on now?”

The FFLOTUS shivered.

“I am very happy not to think about it at all.”

“You have no opinions about it?”

“Well, everyone has opinions. But politics spoils everything these days. It’s so divisive. That’s why in this book I concentrate on the future and on women’s internal struggles and triumphs. That’s where we all really live, anyway. The external stuff, that, to me, seems kind of fake.”

And it wouldn’t help your book sales to get into it, her husband had told her before the tour began. She still wondered whether he was simply giving her advice, or being sarcastic. He was so smooth and amiable that sometimes when he was expressing anything darker it just went right over everyone’s head.

“You don’t think there’s a place to get political?”

“Oh, I think everyone should feel free to express their political opinions and work for whatever world they want. I’ve certainly done that. I just don’t think we should do it ALL the time.”

You know, you could win, he had said to her one night, two years ago.

Win what? she had said.

He had just looked at her.

The presidency? she said. Are you crazy?

Maybe. But he could never beat you. He could never attack you the way he attacks me, or the other candidates. I think you would befuddle him.

I’m not a politician! she had almost yelled.

I know, he said. That’s another reason he would have trouble with you.

Just shut up, she told him. To think of getting back into that insanity, just when we’ve escaped.

Have we escaped, though? he said.

Yes, we have, she said. We’re not under that microscope anymore.

But we still have the Secret Service. We still can’t go outside and walk the dog. We can’t go to the grocery.

And whose fault is that?

I’m just saying, it would be less of a change for us than for almost anyone else out there.

Oh, it would be a big change, she said. A huge change. Whose idea was this? One of the Dans?

No. No one’s said a thing to me. I just felt that I could not let this time pass without telling you that this is something that you really could do.

Well, now you’ve told me, she said. It’s not fair of you to lay that on me. There are 300 million people in this country, and it’s all on me?

You’re right, he said. It’s not fair.

Well, I’m glad we agree.

Life’s not fair.

Don’t you lay this on me.

I guess I did, and I apologize.

Good.

But I want you to know, you could do this. Certainly better than it is being done now. I would say you are the only lock I can see to beat this guy.

She had turned away from him angrily in the bed.

You would not be alone. I did not do it alone. I needed help, and I had help. You would have the same help. And you have a better connection to individual people than I ever did.

She remained silently furious.

I’ll shut up about it.

GOOD, she said.

But just think about this. Life really is not fair. It’s not fair to ask you even to consider this. You’re right, we just got out. Things are far more peaceful, less stressful. And that job is not just difficult. It’s even dangerous. Maybe more dangerous now than ever before.

She remained silent, fuming.

But sometimes life makes you choose between well-earned comfort and something higher. Sometimes you have to do something simply because you can do something, and it is needed.

Nice speech, Mr. President. But I can’t do that.

I promise, I won’t bring this up again. If you decide not to pursue it, well, okay. God knows it is too much to ask of anyone, most of all you, after what you have already sacrificed. I just did not want you to look back later and think, “I could have done something.”

So you’ll be telling me “I told you so?”

He rolled over and put his hand on her shoulder.

You know me, he said. I promise those words will never come out of my mouth. Not as long as I live. Never.

He kissed the back of her head and rolled on to his back on his side of the bed.

I know I look cool and content to everyone, he said to the ceiling. But I see it. He’s destroying it, piece by piece. It’s not your job to stop that. It was my job to make sure what we accomplished was solid enough to survive whatever anyone tried to do to it. I failed. If he’s re-elected, he’ll finish the job. It will be as though we were never there. That’s what the people who elected him, and the people around him, want. To erase us. And to go further, to do whatever they can to make this a country where what we believe in can never be achieved. I’d be lying if I said that has no effect on me.

She remained silent, but her anger dissipated.

But you’re right. It’s not your job to compensate for what I failed to do. I don’t know how I could have done better. If I had been louder, they would have said “Look at that scary black man, look at his rage.” If I had been softer, they would have rolled me even worse than they did. I did the best I knew how. I just never expected this reactive rage, this nihilism, this mindless vandalism.

She stared away at the far side of the room.

Let’s get some sleep, he said, yawning. Tomorrow’s another big day of doin’ nothin’.

She rolled partway back, and said to him, I’m not a politician. I’m not like you.

I know, he said. I know. Let’s go back to sleep.

***

“I just want to create a space where we can leave all that divisive political stuff behind, and just be ourselves, talk about what’s really important.”

The audience applauded respectfully.

“Well you don’t have to tell me about people wanting you to get political,” the television star said. “People are always trying to get me to run.” She turned to the audience. “And that’s why I am here today to announce…”

The audience, dumbstruck, stared at her.

“…That I am running as fast as I can away from that idea, and so is my sister here.”

There was a collective sucking of air in the auditorium, and then loud laughter and clapping.

“So let’s bring out our expert on meditation, Dr. Ranee Chaudhury! Come on out, Dr. Chaudhury, and teach us how to breathe!”

An Indian woman dressed in a sari came onto the stage and stood up in front of the two women, who were standing and applauding.

“All right, who wants serenity?” she said. Loud cheers.

“Okay,” Dr. Chaudhury said, sitting down on the stage in a cross-legged position. “Let’s all clear our minds. I want you to be aware of your breathing, don’t try to control it, just be aware of it, and try to let go of your thoughts.”

Let go of your thoughts, Marilyn told herself. Don’t think about it. Let it go.

This was her favorite part of the tour. Let it go.

© 2020 Nolan O’Brian