SHELTER ISLAND

coastal NEW YORK

Tuesday—November 8, 2016

“It is now four P.M. in  the east—and while the voting places are all still open throughout the country, we are now able to project with  certainty a winner in the presidential contest…

“Our exit polling everywhere is confirming  to us in a huge way what everybody was anticipating—that President Paige Piper will be defeated in her bid for a second term.  And, it is likely for the first time in history that a presidential candidate will not capture one single electoral vote…

“So at this hour, the breaking news is that the Hispanic governor from California—Quin Cortez—will become the next president of the United States...

 “For Paige Piper, mostly no chance to win.  Still, we wonder—what are the thoughts of the president?  What will she say? Wherever she is.”

             Wearing a half-zipped eagle patch navy windbreaker and black capri pants, Paige Piper continued to stare across at the television on the wall—watching the rogue internet broadcast.  She was standing in the middle of the elegantly decorated living room, her back to the wall of windows that looked out upon the sand and sea.  From a corner, brother Price was mostly watching her rather than the political coverage and commentary.  Though the two were alone in the room—elsewhere inside and around the luxuriously large beach house, secret service agents were close by.

            “What will she say?  I say—mostly no chance to win, you got that part right,”  Paige Piper responded to the digital voice. The president tapped the remote and the picture went dark.  She limped over to a wall of  bookcases. 

She brought her hand to her neck and poked her fingers in sequence at the muscles.  “And, I say how classless all of you are—you misfits can’t even wait until after dark to start your celebration.”

The president settled her elbows on a shelf.  “Price, how is it that all those who loved me four years ago now hate me?”

It wasn’t a serious question, and she quickly laughed.  She was never in denial, always realistic about how this day was going play out—and she had already come to terms with losing. It hurt not to win, but she was able to be a good sport about it.  “Although, you still love me—don’t you, Baby Bro?” she added jokingly.

She didn’t need for him to reply, and he knew that she wasn’t expecting it.  So, Price Piper simply stood up.  He took a couple of steps towards her. “Paige, they don’t hate you.  The thing is—we can’t take it personally.  Anybody would’ve gotten the boot—it’s happening everywhere.  People—voters—are demanding satisfactory answers, but they are getting none.”  

            Madame President continued to massage her sore neck, moving her head in slow circles—her ashen hair swaying. “Ugly moods are popular, but why is that supposedly our fault?”

Price crossed his arms over the front of his sweater.  “At least we’re being sent to the sidelines comparatively gently.  Unlike, say, Mugo over in Osaze—overthrown in the morning, an afternoon trial, bullets by firing squad under the moonlight.”

            Paige Piper withdrew a handkerchief from her jacket.  “The economy is perfect.  But do they give us credit?” She unfolded the cloth and dabbed her face.

Price stuck his hands in the front pockets of his cargo pants.  “For what was ultimately responsible for our undoing, there was no way we could control it—nobody can.”

             From across the room, Paige Piper suddenly swore—striking her palms against a tall pile of travel magazines.  “Maybe not.  But it startles me to tally the number of times that I flip-flopped my core values during these last four years. And for whose benefit?  Certainly not mine—because I’ve just been fired from my job!” 

Paige Piper started wandering across the shelves.  “You want an excellent example?  Let’s recall my much publicized enthusiasm for the Human Life Amendment. That thing!  There was never any need whatsoever for it—and I should have lobbied vigorously against it.  The assumed crime that the amendment addressed—an abortion— in more rational times, such behavior never warranted even a slap on the wrist.”  She tugged out one of the books and held it out towards Price. “They would sooner lock you up for the crime of not returning an overdue library item!”

Surprising him—instead of her tossing the book at something—his  sister rather calmly returned it to its spot on the shelf.

“But it’s outrageous,” she complained. “It’s illogical to judge the legality and morality of abortion based strictly on society’s degree of fertility.  No, the answer must be anchored singularly on the concept—not the circumstances.  Either abortion is morally right or abortion is morally wrong—it can’t logically be both… 

“Either abortion is the killing of another human being, or it’s not.  It’s not a subjective issue—there’s no gray area.  And since abortion was previously defined by the courts as legal and moral—why the difference now?  Unless you believe that all the courts were all wrong all along the way…

“The procedure itself hasn’t changed—an abortion is still an abortion.   If I was convinced that life begins at conception, I would agree that abortion is wrong.  But I am not convinced.”   Paige Piper was quiet for several seconds.  “Am I making any sense whatsoever, Price?”

From across the room, Price Piper gazed in absolute sorrow at his sister—the president of the United States.  In a major way, he was glad the whole thing was coming to an end.  For him, there was now no further worry about the potential exposure of their uncommon relationship. Yes, America was a tolerant society that encouraged diversity—and although he and she were actually only half-siblings—still, the idea of the president sharing intimacies on occasion with her brother…However, none of it had ever interfered with their job performances.  Each of them possessed a disciplined ability to compartmentalize—to stoically separate work from non-work… 

            “But, I’m not in any way bitter,” she confessed.  “Paige Piper has  lost an election only for the first time in her political life—listen, nobody’s perfect…But oddly—I am optimistic…

“Now this is exactly what we are going to do,” she said brightly, all her gloom gone. “They loved us once, they will love us again.  I’m not too terribly ancient—and you, Baby Bro, are better every day…So, let the new campaign begin—and, four years from today, we will be back in business.  To return in triumph!…

“And once I complete my second term—the Oval Office can be yours, Baby Bro.  Work with me, Price—and  I will do anything and everything to make it happen for you.  We will stake out a political dynasty—a co-presidency—the two of us!”

Price quietly just continued to let her think aloud.  When he arrived in Europe and found himself a place to live for the rest of his life, Price would contact his sister.

 “So,” Paige Piper said, “I refuse to hide out on the island any longer.  What do I have to be ashamed of?  So, tell the boys to fire up the chopper, we’re returning to D.C. tonight—graciously.  Today we cry—tomorrow we will again try!”