“So
what’s the motion?”
“I’m
glad to see you’re finally warming to the challenge, because that’s our next
problem.” Jimmy removed a leaflet from an inside pocket.
“Resolved: America should withdraw from the Vietnam
War.”
“I
don’t see any problem with that,” said Fletcher, “I’d be quite happy to oppose
such a motion.”
“That’s
the problem,” said Jimmy, “because anyone who opposes is history, even if they
look like Kennedy and speak like Churchill.”
“But
if I present a good case, they might feel I was the right person to represent
them on the council.
“However
persuasive you are, Fletcher, it would still be suicide, because almost
everyone on campus is against the war. So why not leave that to some madman who
never wanted to be elected in the first place?”
“That
sounds like me,” said Fletcher, “and in any case, perhaps I believe...”
“I
don’t care what you believe,” interrupted Jimmy. “My only interest is getting
you elected.”
“Jimmy,
do you have any morals at all?”
“How
could I?” Jimmy replied. “My father’s a politician and my mother sells real
estate.”
“Despite
your pragmatism, I still couldn’t get myself to speak in favor of such a
motion.”
“Then
you’re doomed to a life of endless study and holding hands with my sister.”
“Sounds
pretty good to me,” said Fletcher, “especially as you seem quite incapable of
having a serious relationship with any woman for more than twenty-four hours.”
“That
isn’t Joanna Palmer’s opinion,” said Jimmy.
Fletcher
laughed, “And what about your other friend, Audrey Hepburn? I haven’t seen her
on campus lately.”
“Neither
have I,” said Jimmy, “but it will only be a matter of time before I capture
Miss Palmer’s heart.”
“In your dreams, Jimmy.”
“You
will in time, apologize, O ye of little faith, and I predict that it will be
before your disastrous contribution to the freshman debate.”
“You
won’t change my mind, Jimmy, because if I take part in the debate, it will be
to oppose the motion.”
“You do like to make life difficult for me, don’t
you, Fletcher.
Well, one thing’s for certain,
the organizers will welcome your participation.”
“Why’s
that?” asked Fletcher.
“Because
they haven’t been able to find anyone half electable who is willing to put the
case against withdrawal.”
“Are
you sure,” asked Nat quietly.
“Yes,
I am,” replied Rebecca.
“Then
we must get married as soon as possible,” said Nat. “Why?” asked Rebecca. “We
live in the sixties, the age of the Beatles, pot, and free love, so why
shouldn’t I have an abortion?”
“Is
that what you want?” asked Nat in disbelief “I don’t know what I want,” said
Rebecca.
“I
only found out this morning. I need some more time to think about it.”
Nat
took her hand. “I’d marry you today if you’d have me.” “I know you would,” said
Rebecca, squeezing his hand, “but we have to face the fact that this decision
will affect the rest of our lives. We shouldn’t rush into it.”
“But
I have a moral responsibility to you and our child.” “And I have my future to
consider,” said Rebecca. “Perhaps we should tell our parents, and see how they
react?” “That’s the last thing I want to do,” said Rebecca. “Your mother will
expect us to get married this afternoon, and my father will turn up on campus
with a shotgun under his arm. No, I want you to promise you won’t mention that
I’m pregnant to anyone, especially our parents.”
“But
why?” pressed Nat.
“Because
here’s another problem
. .”
“How’s
the speech coming on?”
“Just finished the third draft,” said Fletcher
cheerfully, “and you’ll be happy to learn that it’s likely to make me the most
unpopular student on campus.”
“You
do like making my task more difficult
..”
“Impossible
is my ultimate aim,” admitted Fletcher. “By the way, who are we up against?”
“Some
guy called Tom Russell.”
“What
have you found out about him?”
“Went to Tail.”
“Which
means that we have a head start,” said Fletcher with a grin.
“No,
I’m afraid not,” said Jimmy. “I met him at
Mory’s
last night, and I can tell you he’s bright and popular. I can’t find anyone who
doesn’t like him.”
“Have
we got anything going for us?”
“Yes,
he admitted that he’s not looking forward to the debate. He’d rather support
another candidate, if the right one came forward.
Sees
himself as more of a campaign organizer than a leader.”
“Then
perhaps we could ask Tom to join our team,” said Fletcher. “I’m still looking
for a campaign organizer.”
“Funnily
enough, he offered me that job,” said Jimmy.
Fletcher
stared at his friend. “Did he really?”
“Yes,”
replied Jimmy.
“Then
I’ll have to take him seriously, won’t I?” Fletcher paused, “Perhaps we should
start by going over my speech tonight, then you can tell me if
..”
“Not
possible tonight,” said Jimmy. “Joanna’s invited me over to her place for
supper.”
“Ah
yes, that reminds me, I can’t make it either. Jackie Kennedy has asked me to
accompany her to the Met.”
“Now
you mention it, Joanna did wonder if you and Annie would like to join us for a
drink next Thursday. I told her that my sister was coming over to New Haven for
the debate.”
“Are
you serious?” said Fletcher.
“And
if you do decide to join us, please tell Annie not to hang around for too long,
because Joanna and I like to be tucked up in bed by ten.”
When
Nat found Rebecca’s hand-written note slipped under his door, he ran all the
way across campus, wondering what could possibly be that urgent.
When
he walked into her room she turned away as he tried to kiss her, and without
explanation locked the door. Nat sat by the window, while Rebecca perched
herself on the edge of the bed. “Nat, I have to tell you something that I’ve
been avoiding for the past few days.” Nat just nodded, as he could see that
Rebecca was finding it difficult to get the words out.
There
followed what seemed to him to be an interminable silence.
“Nat,
I know you’ll hate me for this...”
“I’m
incapable of hating you,” said Nat, now looking directly at her.
She
met his gaze but then lowered her head. “I’m not sure you’re the father.”
Nat
gripped the sides of his chair. “How’s that possible?” he eventually asked.
“That
weekend you went over to Penn for the cross-country meet, I ended up at a party
and I’m afraid I drank a little too much.” She paused again. “Ralph Elliot
joined us and I don’t remember a great deal after that, except waking up in the
morning, and finding him sleeping next to me.”
It
was Nat’s turn not to speak for some time. “Have you told him that you’re
pregnant?”
“No,”
said Rebecca. “What’s the point?
He’s
hardly spoken to me since.”
“I’ll
kill the bastard,” said Nat, rising from his chair.
“I
don’t think that will help,” said Rebecca quietly.
“It
doesn’t change anything,” said Nat, walking across to take her in his arms,
“because I still want to marry you. In any case, the odds are far more likely
that it’s my child.”
“But
you could never be sure,” said Rebecca.
“That’s
not a problem for me,” said Nat.
“But
it’s a problem for me,” said Rebecca, “because there’s something else I haven’t
told you...”
The
moment Fletcher entered the packed Woolsey Hall he regretted not heeding
Jimmy’s advice. He took his place on the bench opposite Tom Russell, who
greeted him with a warm smile, as a thousand students began to chant, “Hey, hey
LBJ, how many kids have you killed today?”
Fletcher
looked up at his opponent as he rose from his place to open the debate. Tom was
welcomed by the assembled throng with acclamation even before he’d opened his
mouth. To Fletcher’s surprise he appeared to be just as nervous as he was,
beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.
The
crowd
fell
silent the moment Tom began to speak, but
he had only delivered two words when it turned to boos. “Lyndon Johnson,” he
waited. “Lyndon Johnson has told us that it is America’s duty to defeat the
North Vietnamese and save the world from creeping communism. I say it’s the
president’s duty not to sacrifice one American life on the altar of a doctrine
that, given time, will defeat itself.”
Once
again the throng erupted, this time into cheers, and it was nearly a minute
before Tom could continue. In fact the
remainder of his words
were
punctuated with so many interruptions of approval, that he’d barely
delivered half his speech before he came to the end of his allotted time.
The
cheers turned to
boos
the moment Fletcher rose from
his place. He had already decided that this was the last public speech he would
ever make.
He
waited for a silence that never came, and when someone shouted, “Get on with
it,” he delivered his first faltering words.
“The
Greeks, the Romans and the British have all, in their time, taken on the mantle
of world leadership,” Fletcher began.
“That’s
no reason why we should!” hollered someone from the back of the hall.
“And
after the breakup of the British Empire following the Second World War,”
continued Fletcher, “that responsibility has been passed on to the United
States.
The greatest nation on the earth.”
A
smattering of applause broke out in the hall. “We can of course sit back and
admit that we are unworthy of that responsibility, or we can offer leadership
to millions around the world, who admire our concept of freedom and wish to
emulate our way of life. We could also walk away, allowing those same millions
to suffer the yoke of communism as it engulfs the free world, or we could
support them as they too try to embrace democracy. Only history will be left to
record the decision we make, and history must not find us wanting.”
Jimmy
was amazed that they had thus far listened with only the occasional
interruption, and surprised by the respectful applause Fletcher received when
he resumed his place some twenty minutes later. At the end of the debate
everyone in the hall recognized that Fletcher had won the argument, even if it
was Tom who won the motion by over two hundred votes.
Jimmy
somehow managed to look cheerful after the result had been read out to the
cheering mob. “It’s nothing less than a miracle,” said Jimmy.
“Some
miracle,” said Fletcher. “Didn’t you notice that we lost by two hundred and
twenty-eight votes?”
“But
I was expecting to be beaten by a landslide, so I consider two hundred and
twenty-eight to be nothing less than a miracle. We’ve got five days to change
the minds of a hundred and fourteen voters, because most frosh accept that
you’re the obvious choice to represent them on the student council,” said Jimmy
as they walked out of Woolsey Hall, with several people whispering to Fletcher,
“Well done” and “Good luck.”
“I
thought Tom Russell spoke well,” said Fletcher, “and more important, he
represents their views.”
“No,
he won’t do
anymore
than keep the seat warm for you.”
“Don’t
be too sure of that,” said Fletcher.
“Tom
might quite like the idea of becoming president.”
“Not
a chance with what I have planned for him.”
“Dare
I ask what you have in mind?” said Fletcher.
“I
had a member of our team present whenever he gave a speech. During the campaign
he made forty-three pledges, most of which he will not be able to keep. After
he’s been reminded of that fact twenty times a day, I don’t think his name will
be appearing on the ballot paper for president.”
“Timmy
have
you ever read Machiavelli’s The Prince?” asked
Fletcher.
“No,
should I?”
“No
don’t
bother,
he has nothing to teach you.
What
are you doing for dinner tonight?” he added, as Annie came across to join them.
She gave Fletcher a big hug. “Well done,” she said, “your speech was
brilliant.”
“Too
bad a couple of hundred others didn’t agree with you,” said Fletcher.
“They
did, but most of them had decided how they were going to vote long before they
entered the hall.”
“That’s
exactly what I’ve been trying to tell him.” Jimmy turned to Fletcher. “My kid
sister’s right, and what’s more
. .”