Presidential Inheritance [FICTION]

“At last, a president I can stand behind,” my husband says as he pulls the zipper of my dress up for me.

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you stand at my side, honey.” I grin.

He steps around to face me and a plants a kiss on my cheek. “Whatever you say, Madame President.”

“Lead me into our future?” I ask as I offer him my arm.

He links his elbow with mine and we leave our apartment. As soon as we enter the hall, secret service men surround us. They match our steps and lead us through the blur of inauguration day. I don’t think I take a breath or process anything until I finally step into the Oval Office. I take a deep breath to hide the gasp of wonder at where I am and why I am there.

“Will that be all, ma’am?” The lead agent asks.

“Not right now.” I smile absently as I notice a card on the desk.

I pick it up, admiring my name carefully scripted on the front of the heavy envelope embossed with the seal of the office I now hold. I slide out a single card on which the outgoing president has written “Good Luck.”

“Alright.” I shake my head bemusedly and set the card down on the desk.

“Let’s give the first lady a moment alone, shall we?” He makes a gesture with his hand and everyone files out, including my husband.

As the door closes behind them, I glance back at the notecard. The carefully printed words fade before my eyes to be replaced by more words.

“How extraordinary.” I pick it up to read the new message.

“You think you know what it takes to be president and you have the necessary skills? Then open the bottom drawer and push the button you find in a hidden compartment there. More instructions will follow.”

I hesitate only a moment before following the directions. It takes me a few tries to figure out the hidden compartment, but once I do, I can see the button I am supposed to push.

“I don’t know about this.” I tell myself or perhaps the card because I find myself looking at it in hopes of receiving encouragement or guidance.

The original two word message has returned, so I push the button. An odd sound causes me to look down at my feet. The floor under the desk has disappeared, revealing a narrow opening. As I push my chair back, the opening widens enough for me to step down into a slender recess in the floor. As soon as my weight is fully inside the hole I feel the floor slowly sinking. After about six feet, the opening widens and I breath a little easier. A glow rises up to meet me as I sink deeper under the nation’s capital.

I finally come to rest at one end of what looks a natural cave. In the center of the room, a large oval table sits surrounded by comfortable-looking leather chairs. In one of these chairs, sits a wizened old man. He stands up as my platform comes to a rest and comes forward to meet me. As he offers me a thin, bony hand with dry, papery skin, I take it tentatively, half expecting him to disappear into mist before our hands meet.

‘Where am I?”

“You are in the most important place in the United States, Madame President, the heart of the country.”

I ponder this a moment, “So I am still in Washington, DC?”

“No one ever understands at first,” he says patiently. “You think you were elected as the president of our fine country for your merits, but you were elected to be given guidance by all those who came before. Our country can’t move forward if we don’t respect our past as we look to the future.”

“Isn’t that what Congress is supposed to do, keep me from exerting my own will on our country?” I ask wryly.

“But the country runs so much more smoothly if the President can be bolstered by the love and reverence of all their predecessors for this great nation. Please, sit down.” He takes my hand and guides me toward the table. 

As I sit down in the chair at the shorter curve nearest me, ghostly images appear in the other seats around the table. I gasp as I recognize Washington and Lincoln and FDR and JFK. I open my mouth to speak, but the old man holds a finger to his lips and I fall silent, listening as holographic images or ghosts, I am still unclear, begin to share their stories and political philosophies with me. I am mesmerized by their words as much as the feelings that come over me. Am I ready for this? How have the last ten presidents dealt with this revelation? Will they even admit to witnessing such a strange second inauguration into the presidency if I call to ask them?

~~At the time I began writing this, we still didn’t know who our next president would be. This is not meant as a political statement about the ensuing events. We now who our next president is and I hope we have all stepped up to support their presidency even if we have differing philosophies, since I planned this piece for this week to coincide with inauguration. I also hope that we are all pleasantly surprised by this president and his term regardless of who we voted for. An election of this magnitude should offer us hope and a chance to reboot our thinking and work together for the greater good of our country now and into the future not dissolve into the threats of violence, dissolution of friendships over differences of opinions, and outright hatred that has permeated this last foray into designing the future of these United States.~~