The
day dawned bright and clear (as, of course, it was supposed to for
such a momentous event), and it appeared that the weather was going
to fully cooperate with the plans that had been made for the day.
The sky had attained that perfect shade of blue that you know had to
cost somebody in the special effects department something extra.
Colored pennants waved gently in the breeze all around the Manor
House like a picture post card, and fought unsuccessfully to carry
the day from the wild variety of colors displayed in the flowers of
the gardens. The breeze, as always, carried an indescribable scent
from these many flowers that was at once both refreshing and
intoxicating. (In
other words, it was one of those situations in life that in which
under normal circumstances would have made everyone violently ill if
they didn't have so many reasons to be so happy.)
They
had set up a tent-like pavilion in the grass behind the manor near
those perfect gardens that makes this place so special. The fact
that it also just happened to be one hell of a perfect place to set
up a tent went almost unnoticed. (Careful
of that gag reflex now.)
I had been wandering the grounds for some time now, just enjoying
the party atmosphere. Growing curious, I finally wandered into the
tent to see how the arrangements had been handled for the ceremony.
There was a platform at one end of the open enclosure with a single
chair. You could almost call it a throne, but if you did you would
be wrong.
The
throne was, in fact, in the throne room of the Manor House, where it
and any other thing like it belonged. It was also there because it
was made of solid stone and was too damn heavy to carry anywhere.
303
The
chair in the pavilion was a truly beautiful one though, and perfect
for the job that it was to perform. Not one of those chairs that can
be pushed up against a dining room table for someone to who has come
late to dinner to sit at, and not one of those ridiculous art chairs
that you are afraid to sit on because you know that it will either
ride right up your butt crack or will break as soon as you touch the
damn thing; embarrassing the heck out of you. It was more like one
of those chairs that sit in libraries of the great manor houses of
most European nations (like this one normally did), and dominate an
entire room (which this one always did). Come to think of it, maybe
that’s why they used it for the coming ceremony.
People
had begun to gather in scattered groups in the gardens, mostly near
the tent. You know, it’s funny. Any time you put up a tent in a
field people seem to gather. It doesn’t really seem to matter why
the tent is there, a wedding, a party, even a revival meeting. It
just seems that people are naturally attracted to tents. Maybe
that’s why circuses have been so successful over the years, but I
can’t say for certain.
Perhaps
we should pour thousands of man-hours and millions of dollars into a
government study on the subject. Then we could produce hundreds of
copies of the thousands of pages of such a report which could then be
distributed to a number of undisclosed locations, then buried in
obscure files on shelves so high that no would notice them, let alone
read them. We could then call for a series of government
investigative hearings, calling hundreds of people to testify about
why all of this money was wasted on a study that no one had ever
seen, about a subject that nobody cared about in the first place.
Finally, documentary film makers could take full advantage of the
resultant scandal, claiming it to be the result of a full blown
government conspiracy. Tabloid headlines could be cast in the
largest type available and faked pictures of the report, the file,
and the shelves could be printed in all their glory, creating a
mystery nearly as great as that of the alien autopsies. After all, I
hear that the woman’s shoe study is all but complete and we will
need something to spend our hard earned tax dollars on. Nah, it’s
probably already been done anyway.
Inside
the Manor House no one was gathering, though the day was to be a big
one. For the most part in fact, it seemed to be business as usual.
After all, the country doesn’t close just because they are crowning
a new king. (Oops
sorry, I was wrong. The country does in fact close for the day when
they crown a new king ...
national
holiday and all of that, you know.)
While there was every reason to be celebrating, and one heck of a
celebration brewing in the tent, those most closely involved with the
campaign were in a more subdued mood.
304
Maybe
that is the nature of momentous events. While those who were not
directly involved with the event seem to have every reason and desire
to celebrate its successful conclusion in spite of the fact that they
had little or nothing do with that conclusion, those who were
directly involved with the issue are usually suffering from the
inevitable adrenaline let down that follows the huge effort required
to gain the result that everyone is already celebrating.
Everyone
had a reason to be happy of course, and was grateful for the
successful conclusion of the personal attacks, the campaign, and the
election. That happiness however, was tempered with something akin
to a feeling of loss or sorrow. It struck me then as a feeling that
might be compared to the gratitude that a person feels when a fever
breaks, along with the weakness that is felt from battling it. How
could anyone help but remember the trials and tribulations that all
of us as Phillip’s followers had faced both on a personal and
professional level. That we had been triumphant in this trial by
fire and brought this situation to a successful conclusion was
something akin to a miracle.
If
the truth were to be told, the entire day gave me the feeling of an
Irish wake. The people gathered here were glad to be together once
more, and dearly loved one another. The reason for the gathering was
nevertheless a cause for both happiness and sadness, full of
remembrance and expectation. As for me, my part was now over. I
guess I was quietly proud of the insignificant part I had played in
bringing things to this successful conclusion, but I also felt that I
might have, could have, and should have done better. There should
have been a way to reach this place without all of the suffering of
so many people (even Christy and Randal, though heaven knows they
deserved the rewards they were now receiving if anyone did). As they
had been since the debate, my emotions started back on the roller
coaster ride to nowhere that seemed to be my lot in life, and I felt
my mood begin to swing into a dark place. Just as I was falling into
that pit of self-doubt and anger, I felt an arm slide around my
waist.
“You’re
doing it again,” Angela said.
“What
am I doing again?”
305
“You’re
trying to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, and though
I think that they are nice enough shoulders, they’re not nearly big
enough to take such a weight. You’re trying to take responsibility
for the way that the world turned out, as if you could actually
control it,” she said, chiding me now.
“But
wasn’t that why I was put here?” I heard myself say for the
hundredth time. “Wasn’t I chosen to come here to make this
right? Why couldn’t I have done it better? Why did so many have
to pay so much?”
“Do
you really think that it was so much, what we all went through? Do
you think that we didn’t understand what we might be up against
when we signed up to work on Phillip’s campaign? Didn’t it all
turn out all right in the end? What do you think you are some kind
of mythic hero? Oh, don’t we think we’re so special,” she
replied, almost laughing at me.
“The
real question that you should be asking is why things turned out as
well as they did, considering how little you knew about what you were
getting into. Maybe the question that we should all be asking is did
everything turn out all right because of what we did or in spite of
it? If you ask me, the way that things turned out is continuing
proof that it is far better to be lucky than good. As for who had to
pay and how much they did, don’t you think that you’re paying
now? Do you expect this feeling to go away anytime soon? Isn’t
that enough, or would you like a couple of physical scars to help you
feel better about yourself and everything else? Maybe you even think
that physical or emotional scars would make you the tragic hero
instead and more attractive to the ladies, as if anything could? And
by the way, if that’s your plan, I can arrange for those scars
anytime your schedule is open,” she smiled, showing her nails.
“Hey!”
I retorted, rising to the occasion. “If I am, in fact the mythic
hero of the day, you will have to face the fact that heroes are
intrinsically handsome. It is part of the nature and definition of
the beast. I resent your implications and insinuations regarding my
charm, good looks, and wit; while freely admitting that they might be
limited by the dull, ugly lump that they're contained in.”
306
She
sighed and hugged me a little tighter while mumbling what I thought
was “My hero” under her breath. Maybe she was right though.
Maybe in the end winning was enough and needed to be. Maybe all of
the after the fact analyzing in the world was nothing more than
pretension on our part. No matter what happens in the world, we each
play our part, and we usually don’t get to choose it. We do get to
choose how we are going to feel about it though, and far too many of
us have trouble getting ourselves to understand that the glass is
half full, not half empty. Sometimes winning is just as hard as
losing. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and I had a
beautiful woman standing next to me who thought that I had nice
shoulders. Besides that, if I had learned anything from all of this,
it was that I could never win an argument with Angela.
I
was beginning to feel so much better that I was about to commit the
cardinal sin of telling her that she was right and I was wrong, when
I was saved by the bell. Quite literally saved in fact, as the bell
in the tower began to sound, calling everyone out to the ceremony.
This
was a great relief to me on a number of levels, not the least of
which was the fact that that I was saved from having to admit that I
was wrong and someone else was right. I have never been any damn
good at doing this, and was not sure that I could learn to be.
Besides, who knows what cataclysmic cosmic events might transpire
should I actually complete such a learning process and truly accept
the possibility of error, let alone voice it to another person.
Thus
having saved this universe (and myself) from a fate worse than death,
I simply took the lady’s arm and guided her outside to the
gathering crowd.
Angela
and I had walked back to the Manor House, exchanging greetings with
people that we knew from the campaign, and seeing who else might be
around. This was the big event and along with the cream of Macundan
society, many of our local campaign workers had been invited to the
ceremony. By the time that the bell had sounded its last peel, quite
a crowd had gathered for the day. We reached the door to the Manor
House just as it was opening. It was Phillip, answering the same
call that we had just all heard.
307
Prince
Phillip looked truly regal in robes of midnight blue and dove gray,
with white piping on the sleeves and collar. Even the ruffles on the
white shirt that he wore beneath looked as though they had been
starched twice for effect. As for Lorelei, she clothed in a gown of
soft gray, in a perfect compliment to her prince. I will not try to
describe the perfection of the lady in that moment. I don’t have
the words for such things, and if I did, I am sure that I they would
only get me into more trouble than I want to be in with the lovely
lady at my side. The two of them stood at the main entrance of the
manor, looking every bit the royal couple, and gazed with smiling
eyes at the slowly assembling group. Arturo made his way to their
side as they waited, and his tail seemed to be marking time to music
that only he heard.
There
was no impatience or hurry in them, just a look of benign humility
and satisfaction. When the crowd had finally stilled, the three of
them made their way slowly towards the tent. There were no trumpets
or martial music being played. In fact, there was no sound at all
but a quiet hum of subdued conversation and that of the birds quietly
singing nearby. That too seemed to be as it should be. No blaring
trumpets or banging drums, just the sounds of ordinary life.
The
crowd parted almost imperceptibly as they made their way forward.
They paused seemingly at random for a word with one, a clasped hand
or shoulder with another. It reminded me of the way a politician
enters a room in an election year in the same way that a parade
resembles a train wreck. There was nothing phony about this. There
was no posing for pictures, or making sure to speak to the ‘right’
people. There was no posturing or cheer-leading going on. It was
more like a man walking down a sidewalk in a quiet friendly
neighborhood and greeting the friends that he met along the way. A
warm glow seemed to gather around them as they passed. There was
anticipation, but not excitement, as they moved slowly ahead.
Finally they reached the chair in front, and turned to face us all.
“My
friends,” Phillip began. “How long have we labored to reach this
time and place? How many and great were the sacrifices made that
allow to come together as we have today? I will not embarrass any of
you with the list of those deeds and sacrifices, both great and
small, which bring us to this happy time. Nor (and now that half
smile lit his face), will I repeat to anyone living or dead, some of
the mistakes that we made along the way.”
308
I
know that my face turned bright red at this point, but I was
surprised to find that I was not alone. As I looked around guiltily,
I noticed more than a few had colored to match my own embarrassment.
I let this go and chose instead to face my own demons, keeping the
promise that he sent us as he looked at us all.
“The
time now, is for all that was past to be left there, as we seek a
brighter future. Let no heart be sad now. Let everyone be glad in
the promise that the future now holds for us. Let all hold true to
the faith that we carried and the vows that we have fulfilled this
day. Though much was sacrificed, and much was lost; we stand
together today in a hope and belief of the better days to come.”
OK,
I know that I have made crummy remarks about politicians and in my
opinion most them deserve much worse than they get. I know that the
citizens of the world are no bargain, but no one deserves the mass of
treacherous thieves that usually constitute the world of politics. I
feel the same way about most of the members of the legal profession.
It should therefore be no surprise to anyone that so many lawyers go
into politics. The combination of the two always made me look at
most governments as a dog infested with both fleas and tics, with the
two groups only really worried about how much blood they could drain
from the poor, dumb animal before they got kicked off or simply chose
to move on.
The
only things that kept any hope alive in my heart for us is that there
is no chance that I could ever be elected to anything on the planet
(even if it was a miserable job), and that occasionally the genetic
mutation of an honest, decent person holding political office occurs.
This does not happen often enough to really change our world for the
better, but does happen enough to let us plod on in our miserable
conformity in the hope that it will eventually.
Prince
Phillip was one of those genetic mutations, but I would never insult
him by calling him out. My feelings for those who govern aside, I
was always a sucker for a great speech. You have to be more and
worse than a cynic not to be stirred by the great speeches of
history. From Caesar to Churchill to Kennedy and Reagan, they all
knew how to lift us to our feet when we thought that we were still on
our knees, if not flat on our back. There is something about them
that makes us feel good about the person giving the speech, and about
ourselves. All I knew at this moment was that there was something in
my heart, and in my throat, that fought now for release.
I fought vainly to hold the emotion behind misty eyes, and suddenly I
heard my voiced raised as it had been by so many others, in so many
other times and places. (Besides,
it was part of the plan.)
309
“God
save the King!”
The
chant was taken up as one voice, and I heard it repeated again and
again. Angela squeezed my arm all the tighter now. I had let her in
on what was going on when I arrived at the room that night. (As if I
was stupid enough to keep such a thing a secret from her.) This
morning at breakfast, the rest of our inner circle had been informed
to nature of our little surprise. We discussed about how best to
accomplish this final goal, and after the initial shock had settled,
we got to work on making it happen. The plan that we ended up with
may not have been a great one, having the dual shortcomings of being
planned on short notice, and being my idea; but it was all that we
had.
On
queue, Phillip now smiled and raised his hand to still the shouting.
It was only then that he, along with Lorelei, stepped aside by a pace
or two, to take up a position to the right of the chair. Now from
the front of the crowd, Katie came forward, and after bowing to
Phillip and Lorelei, took a place just to the left of that same
chair. Dressed in a gown similar to Lorelei’s, but distinguished
by being a compliment to the midnight blue that Phillip wore. The
crowd was murmuring in confusion, not understanding what was
happening before them, but the show was far from over. Arturo now
moved to stand just in front of the chair. He turned first to Katie,
then to Phillip and Lorelei, acknowledging each in turn with a bow of
his head. When the tension had reached almost a fever pitch, he
suddenly leaped up into the chair and turned, seating himself before
the stunned assemblage. He nodded again to Phillip.
“Here
is my brother Arturo,” he said. “Elder son of my father, our
late king Simon, and heir to the throne of Macundo. God save the
king!”
“God
save the King!” Angela and I cried, taking up the chant, soon
joined by the rest of those we had coached and scattered in
apparently random places throughout the crowd. I had turned to be
watching the crowd; and as I watched, could see it happen. Shock
turned into amazement, then realization. It started softly, but
built like a wave crashing on the shore. The crowd was completely
caught up in surprise first, and then caught in the mystery and the
joy of the moment. The cheer carried over the fields around us.
“God
save the King!”
310
As
I turned from the crowd behind me to the throne ahead, I couldn’t
help but notice a certain blue pinstripe suit in off to one side and
almost out of view. Of course it had to figure that he would be
here, and I was surprised that I hadn’t considered that possibility
before. He had taken up the cheer as well, but turned towards me as
I stood gazing in his direction and gave me a little wink and a small
salute before turning back to a certain blue dog, quietly receiving
his accolades.
As
for Arturo, his only facial expression was that of a quiet smile as
he sat surveying his subjects, but the tail of the new king was going
a mile a minute now, as well it should be.
Man’s
best friend indeed!
311
Epilogue
“Well
that’s about it,” I said to Tom as I wound down and signaled to
Michael to bring us both another beer. We had finished a couple
during the telling of the tale, but the telling was after all,
thirsty work.
“What
do you mean, that’s it? What happened with Arturo and Phillip?
Did the rest of people accept Arturo as the King? Did he ever become
human again? What about you and the little guy? How and when did
you get back? What happened about your relationship with Angela? ”
“Then
you believe me,” I sighed.
“Well,
I must say that what you’ve told me is a bit of a tale and then
some,” he replied, eying me as if I had just offered to sell him an
insurance policy or a used car, instead of the telling of a story
that he had asked me for and the gift of another beer. “I can’t
say that I believe you, and I won’t say that I don’t. I mean you
have to admit that what you’ve told me is a lot to take in at one
time. In spite of my better judgment however, I am inclined to grant
you the benefit of the doubt, assuming of course, that you tell me
what the hell happened.”
“Well
as to Arturo accepting the throne, there was a good deal of shock and
more than a touch of resentment when the whole thing was revealed.
People don’t like it when they think that politicians are trying to
put one over on them, and they certainly did in this case. They
might have even had some grounds for it if Phillip had known about
the situation before he started his campaign, but he didn’t. If
you really think about it, anyone ready to take Christy and his old
man as the leaders of a government might find a talking dog a step in
the right direction. Things settled down quickly enough when they
saw that his government, like most other good ones, had little to do
with their day-to-day happiness.
312
As to whether he became human again, looking back on it, I never thought that he was anything but. In fact, he may have been the most human of anyone I have ever met. As for me, I am learning to abandon my prejudices; and to hold neither size, color, nor species against anyone.
As
for my diminutive friend, well you know that he was at the coronation
already, and in spite of contributing absolutely nothing to the
situation, he seemed awfully pleased with himself about its
successful conclusion. Where he is now, is beyond me. When will I
see him again? I dare say that for my part, I am certainly in no
hurry to be seeing him any time soon. I’m also sure that I can
expect him any time that he's damned good and ready.
When
and how I came back is today, and how I got back is I don’t know.
When I woke up this morning, it was about two weeks after the
coronation. Things had begun to settle back down into what would be
considered a routine at the Manor House, and as I told you, most of
the furor over the change in sovereign had begun to settle down.
While I had no official duties with the campaign any longer, and not
even honorary title with the new government, I was allowed to stay on
in the rooms that I had been provided in the Manor House. Arturo had
offered to give me ceremonial rank in their military so that I could
continue to serve the throne; but I was just chauvinistic enough not
to want to be a lieutenant, and take orders from my girlfriend. (As
if I wasn’t taking them as a civilian anyway.)
As
had become my habit every morning, I decided to go for a walk after
breakfast in the morning, being mostly by myself at that time of the
day anyway. The front door of the Manor House opened for me as it
always did, but when I stepped through, I was just outside of the
lower room entrance here at Gibby’s. Taking this as a sign, I
simply decided to step in. Since I never understood how I got to
Macundo in the first place, how I returned and why it was to this
place simply didn't occur to me.
313
Where Angela fits into the picture now is simple. She's the woman that I love, and I may never see her again. I never even got a chance to say goodbye to her. We knew that it could happen any time of course, but I can’t say that knowing that makes it feel any better. I suppose that after the last couple of weeks, with no hint that it was imminent, we had begun to almost take the situation for granted. I love her, and I can’t have her; which will probably make me a pathetic, miserable, self-absorbed son of a bitch for most the foreseeable future. As for that future, when I can look at it again, I shall choose to remain a hopeful romantic where she is concerned. If I am racking up any frequent traveler points for all of the places that I have been and my work with the little guy, then maybe I will get to go back. If not ... well I choose not to think about that.
In
the meantime, being with people and self-medicating with alcohol
prevents me from getting too morose about my coming loneliness. The
beer is good, the company exceptional, and I appreciate you giving me
a chance to unburden myself. I don’t know why I'm back, any more
than I know why he sent me. Hell, I don’t even know what day it
is!”
“It’s
Wednesday, the seventh of June Sean, in case you really needed to
know,” he said, grasping my shoulder. “Sean, if there is
anything true in life; it's that we eventually learn to make our
lives go on without those we must leave behind. For my part however, I
think that you will make it back to her in the end.”
“Thanks
for the vote of confidence, I'd rather that I never have to wait for the eventually part, but if I do then I hope that you are
right.”
“But
this story of yours is all so fantastic, even if it’s a delusion,”
he said. “Have you ever thought about writing this all down?”
The End
