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Friday, March 12, 2021, 8PM Eastern Standard Time

Former President Okomo was reaching the end of his prepared remarks at Douglass College. He looked at the crowd above his black N-95 mask.

“Some terrible things are happening right now, there can be no doubt. Swing state voters have had their votes negated by their supposed representatives. Legitimate state elections are being overturned by armed mobs. Judges, the ultimate bulwark of our rule of law, are being targeted and even killed. Our federal government, the only thing the Founders founded, has been vandalized and left unable to accomplish the most basic tasks expected of any government. International allies are dismayed and disheartened, and our global rivals and enemies see us unilaterally yielding our once nearly universally accepted dominant position in the world, and are gleefully stepping in to our role.

“In the face of all that, our party, the only plausible antidote to this political virus afflicting our nation, seems to be fragmenting in front of our eyes. The progressives have already left the party and formed their own. African-Americans, the most stalwart part of our coalition, are barely hanging in there. Hispanic people seem to be thinking about creating their own party. Women are losing hope that the Democrats are the vehicle through which they can achieve their goals. The Supreme Court is about to be packed for decades to come with ultraconservatives. The stunning loss of all branches of government, at a time when we seemed to be in a position to take back the reins of power, and reverse so much of the damage caused in the past four years by the almost nihilistic approach of the Republicans, certainly was cause for all of us to stop and take stock, and to question almost everything.

“But there are some things that cannot be questioned. Not anymore. It can no longer be questioned by any serious, honest, moral person that this government, and the man who heads it, and those who enable and aid and abet him, are determined to make this a one-party state. They want to annihilate all opposition. They have determined that free and fair elections are a threat to them. They see that demographics are relentlessly moving against them. If we are able to run against them on a level playing field, with a minimal level of unity and cooperation, they cannot win.

“To get those free and fair elections, we must resist. To resist, we need organizations like SNRM, registering folks and arranging rides to the polls and getting mail-in ballots to the people, doing the nuts-and-bolts stuff. A lot of you are down right now, I can tell. But I tell you now, this is a time for heroes, and SNRM is one of the places heroes gather to give each other strength. It’s just as Congresswoman Jamie Evans said a few weeks ago. Right now, we need heroes. A lot of people in my generation grew up without any great cause to get behind. No great quest. When we came of age, there was no Vietnam War, no Great Depression, no fight for basic Civil Rights. Our generation looked around and we were told, ‘It’s all over. You really should have been here a few weeks ago. The protests were more meaningful. The tyranny was real. The war was killing us. Heck, even the music was better. Might as well go to business school. It’s all over.’

“Well, that was never the case. There is always injustice to fight. There are always noble causes. But now we don’t need to squint to see them, do we? We have tyranny and dictatorship and injustice staring us in the face. Look at Vaneida here, and Jenna, and Janice. They faced down the forces of anti-Americanism and autocracy on the National Mall a few weeks ago. And they have the scars to prove it. Well, Jenna has one, anyway.”

The crowd chuckled.

“So, the Congresswoman, Congresswoman Evans, hit the nail on the head: Heroes Wanted. Maybe the 1980s were a time to go make money on Wall Street. Maybe the 2000s were the time to go invent a new app in Silicon Valley. But the 2020s? They are about standing up to rescue this nation from true evil. So, do not feel down, people. To reverse a famous quote, the arc of history may bend toward justice, but it does not do so in a steady line. And there are people pulling on that arc in both directions. We need you pulling in the direction of justice, and charity toward all, and equality, and the essential unity of all people. Because there are a lot of forces right now pulling in the direction of injustice, and selfishness, and inequality, and disunity. Keep pulling, brothers and sisters. Keep pulling. Keep the faith. God bless you and God bless the United States of America.”

The socially distanced crowd, also masked, stood up and cheered and applauded the former President for a long time.

Vaneida leaned over to Jenna as both were clapping off to the side of the dais. “Hey Nature Girl,” Vaneida said. “The President knows your na-ame.”

Jenna simply smiled.

Eventually the applause faded and people got up and began to mill around. Several Secret Service agents quickly surrounded the ex-President, enforcing a strict social distance around him. Okomo beckoned Vaneida over to him. She approached tentatively.

“Sister here is okay,” Okomo said to the agents. They allowed her to approach him.

“Very nice crowd, nice setup,” the ex-President said to Vaneida.

“Thank you,” she said. “Really, thank you for coming. The crowd came to see you. It helps our organization a great deal.”

“My pleasure,” the ex-President replied. “As you can imagine, being an ex-President in this particular time period can be a bit trying. You start writing memoirs, and setting up a library, and then you put your head up and look around, and every proud accomplishment you’re documenting is being shredded. It makes you want to get up and say something after a while. I tried to make the case last fall, but it wasn’t enough.”

“Well, if you’d been on the ballot yourself…” Vaneida began.

The ex-President waved that thought away.

“I think the two-term limit was a very good precedent for Washington to set,” he said. “If the continuation of everything decent in this country depends on the same person sticking around indefinitely, then something’s wrong. We’re supposed to be a country of laws, not men.”

“Well, so far it’s been all men.”

“I hope someday I get to vote for someone like you to end that streak,” the ex-President said.

“Not gonna happen,” Vaneida said. “I’m an academic.”

“Well, so was I,” the ex-President said. “I actually hope I get to do that again someday.”

“Well you can co-teach my course on Presidential Politics in the Digital Age. It meets Thursdays at 1PM.”

“Don’t joke,” he said. “I might just show up for that. Also, I remember you were quite the basketball player. Might have to invite you over for our regular pickup game.”

“Well, I hear you are not bad, and I also have a bad back.”

“Sandbagging already,” the ex-President said, grinning. “You sure you aren’t a politician? Well, we’ll have to have you over for dinner, at least. I’m sure Marilyn would love to talk to you about Third Wave Feminism. Or are we on the fourth wave now? I can’t keep track.”

“We might be back on the first wave pretty soon if we don’t watch it,” Vaneida said. “Can I bring Janice and Jenna over for a picture? They earned it on Inauguration Day.”

“Absolutely,” the ex-President said.

Vaneida gestured to the other two, and they came over sheepishly.

“Well, you know who they are, obviously,” Vaneida said, “since you called them out by name. But this is Janice Isley.”

Janice reached out to shake hands and got an elbow extended by the ex-President. She quickly adjusted, withdrawing her hand and extending her elbow.

“Sorry!” she said.

“No worries,” he said. “I just thought someone should model what a leader should be doing during a pandemic, instead of just making everyone else do it. Also, one president getting this virus is enough.”

“Right,” Janice said. “I’ll never dry-clean this sleeve again.”

“And this is Jenna Jones,” Vaneida said. “Used to be a student of mine.”

Elbows were extended as per public health guidelines this time.

“The eye looks pretty good now,” the ex-President said.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll live,” Jenna said.

“Well, let’s do this,” the ex-President said. Vaneida handed her phone to another person and asked her to take the photo. The women gathered around him, smiling.

“Cheese,” he said. The other woman took several shots on Vaneida’s phone and then passed it back to her.

Okomo turned to Vaneida and said to her, “I’m glad to come here and speak to the group. But if there’s anything else you can think of that I could do, anything that will advance the cause, fundraising you want me to put my name on, write a letter, even legal help – I am still a lawyer last time I checked – let me know. If someone gets in a jam, call me. Let me give you my number for that.”

The ex-President reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a business card that contained only a phone number.

“No name or anything, in case it gets lost. Nifty, huh?” Vaneida laughed, and put the card in her jacket.

“Actually, Ice here – that’s what we call Janice – is the organizational counsel. But you can be of counsel if she’s not available.”

“Perfect,” the ex-President said. “Keep up the good work.”

Then he turned to his Secret Service people. “Okay. I guess we can get this show on the road.”

He began to head for the exits, head pointed to the floor in front of him, right hand waving to the side as he did. The remnants of the crowd clapped as he passed.

“God, I wish he was still President,” Jenna said.

“Me too,” Vaneida said.

“He touched my elbow,” Janice said.

“I know he did, Ice.”

“He invited you to play basketball, Cobra,” Janice said. “If you don’t go, I will break every bone in your body.”

They all laughed.

“Here, Ice,” Vaneida said. “You can hold onto his card. You’re the lawyer.”

Janice accepted the card as if it were a holy relic.

This was a good night, Vaneida thought. The first in a long while.

© 2020 Nolan O’Brian