Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Solution Washington part 6

Agent Johnson motioned for Samantha to follow him and they walked down a hallway and turned down some stairs. They passed through several security checkpoints. Sam noticed that he always said some nonsense with a series of numbers and a reference to cooking or animals just before they got to a checkpoint. She figured that Agent Johnson was notifying his colleagues that he was approaching the next area. Samantha memorised the numbers and tried to figure out the pattern for the Secret Service code. She was slightly giddy at the prospect of acting like a spy but maybe that was just the pain pills clouding her judgement.
They reached an infirmary room and Special Agent Johnson asked her to be seated on an examination table covered in crinkly butcher's paper. She had trouble climbing up onto the table, even with the help of a step-stool. She struggled for a while before Agent Johnson asked if she needed help. She struggled a bit more then finally accepted his help to swing herself onto the table. Her legs dangled over the edge and she swung them nervously. Johnson stood at attention with his hands clasped in front.
Johnson asked, "How did you hurt your arm?"
"I was on flight 300," Sam said.
"Oh?" said Johnson raising his eyebrows so they were visible above his dark sunglasses.
"Yes, I survived somehow. It's a miracle," she said.
"I don't believe in miracles," said Johnson. "But that is a very big stroke of luck."
"A miracle is just a very lucky hit. Let's say a million to one shot. A royal flush is only 650,000 to one, so something like that would be a miracle." She paused then continued, "Why don't you believe in miracles?"
"That's classified," said Johnson.
They sat and stood, respectively, in silence together for a long time.
Finally, Samantha spoke up. She said, "You know, I grew up with the show _Bewitched_ and a lot of my friends used to tease me because of my name. They thought that I could wiggle my nose. You know, the tinkle tinkle tinkle twitch from the show?" Samantha tried to twitch her nose with very little success. She ended up moving her chin and upper lip more than anything else and went cross-eyed trying to look at her nose. "Well anyway," she continued, "The kids made fun of me. They said I could do magic to clean up my room. They said that I liked this boy called Darren. I never liked any Darrens. The boy or the TV show, I mean. The first Darren on the show had a ridiculously long nose. The second Darren didn't look anything like the Darren I used to know, so I rejected him as the Darren.
"It was sort of like the way I thought of my father. I'm adopted, by the way. But I mean that I used to think that my birth father was like the first Darren and then my adoptive father was this fake Darren who was supposed to take over as if nothing had happened. I mean, look at the two actors. They don't look anything alike. Nobody's fooled by that. They didn't even try to hide it. They just figured that if they didn't say anything, people would just get over it. Like my adoptive family. I was just supposed to pretend they were my new parents and get over it.
"One time I had two friends over. What were their names? Mia was one. The other one was an 'M' name as well. Hmm. I can't remember. Anyway, they were over at my house and we were playing with dolls. I was sick of them calling me Bewitched. They kept asking me to twitch my nose. 'Samantha, twinkle twinkle twinkle!' they sang. So I got angry and threw my dolls down. I stood up and put my hands on my hips, then I twitched my nose, really hard and really fast, just like the show. I even said, 'Twinkle twinkle twinkle!'"
Sam stopped, lost in thought.
"What happened then?" asked Johnson.
"I don't remember. Nothing, I suppose," she said.
A man in a white lab entered the room just then and flipped through a chart he was carrying. He said, "One X-ray for the arm and one body scan for the torso and legs." He seemed satisfied with the statement and pulled a white swivel arm with a round cylinder on the end. He put a flat tray attached to some wires on the table and had Sam lie down with her cast on the tray. He proceeded to X-ray her arm, leaving her alone in the room with Johnson when the machine beeped. They came back into the room and she had to clamber down off the table with some help. They took her to a room next door and put her into a large cylinder tube that looked like a space age transporter.
After X-raying her very thoroughly, she sat on a chair outside the examination rooms. She saw the doctor and a nurse looking at her X-ray on a video screen on a wall. She knew it was her X-ray because she could see the cloudy white cast surrounding the two contrasting bones of her forearm. The doctor and nurse were pointing and circling some area with their fingers. They talked and nodded with interest while examining the picture. Sam couldn't be sure what they were looking at.
Eventually, everything was approved and reviewed. Johnson told Samantha that she could go upstairs with him to see the president. Mark would meet them in the conference room along with some other experts to discuss the strange events. Johnson led her upstairs and they entered a large conference room with fancy leather chairs. Sam took a seat next to Mark who was already there. She rested her cast on the edge of the table uncomfortably. There were several other men and women already seated in important-looking seats around the table.
More people arrived, and finally Potus strode in followed by Chief of Staff and two women, one much older and one younger. Everyone stood while Potus walked in and sat only after Potus had walked to his seat and sat down. He folded his hands and said, "Welcome, everyone. Thanks for your time. I know we're all riled up about this preposterous magic show with the, the, you know."
"Moon," said Chief of Staff.
"Moons!" said Potus. "Yes, we're all aware of that. Now, I've gathered the best and brightest minds to discuss this problem and come up with some answers so that the every-person out there knows what's going on. The common every-person wants to know what their president is going to do, and when. So let's get started.  Let's go around and introduce ourselves. I'll start. I'm Potus, the man who abides in the greatest Office in the land. But you knew that. Next?"
"Hello," said the younger woman who walked in with the president earlier. "I'm Ambassador to the United Nations, permanent representative. I'm glad to meet all of you and share our feelings about this horrific turn of events. Grief is a long and slow process and I want to be sure that everyone is able to share their feelings in a safe and non-judgemental environment."
"Yes, yes, next," said Potus.
"Ahem," said Chief of Staff, clearing his throat politely into his fist. "I'm Chief of Staff, lieutenant to the great presidential Office, and offering all kinds of support for the decision making process that goes on in these hallowed walls."
More experts introduced themselves  as the so and so of the such and such, until it reached Mark. "Hello," he said. He seemed nervous he put up the hood on his sweater. "I'm Mark Thorne and I'm just some homeless guy who was waiting for the bus when they told me to show up here..."
Samantha burst out laughing and many people started giggling around the table. Chief of Staff hid his smile behind his hand. Potus waved his hand angrily. "What? What? Who's this guy?"
Mark raised his hand. "I'm just kidding." He took down his hood. "I'm kidding. I'm sorry Mr. President. I'm Mark Thorne, of Thorne Industries."
Potus grimaced and then nodded to Samantha. He said, "You, cripple lady. You're not here to ask for money or help for your medical bills are you?"
Samantha was taken aback. "No, sir. No, I was on Flight 300 that crashed less than two weeks ago. I survived. I work at the theoretical physics lab at Micron University. I do tests and product engineering for Thorne Industries' solid state division."
Potus nodded. "I'm sorry to be blunt about the cripple part. You're a hero obviously. A brave hero who survived the fight with a brush with death. You've got some heft about you obviously. A lot of people think that Americans are too fat. It's a survival advantage. We have extra armour to survive the knocks and blows of life's tribulations. People make fun of us for our weight but skinny people don't live as long. When there's a real problem in the world, like famine, pestilence, wars and rumours of wars, the fat American will be protected. The proud fat American hero survivalist will survive after everyone else has wasted away."
Potus stood and clapped. He urged the others to stand as well. "A real American hero, folks!" he cried. Everyone in the room stood and clapped thunderously. Even Mark stood and clapped. Samantha was embarrassed and tried to stand, but couldn't get up with her cast and discomfort at trying to stand.
When the clapping stopped and Potus sat, he said conspiratorially, "Did you know you're supposed to call people by the polite words, 'American with disabilities?' That's quite a mouthful. And what if they're an illegal person from abroad? One of our dangerous neighbours? It's difficult to know where people stand when most every common person is trying to beg for assistance for this, that, and the other. You know," he said.
Samantha nodded. "No problem at all, Mr. President," she said.
"Please, call me Potus," he said. Samantha nodded.

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