missives to answer this week before preparing for the holiday.”
“I did. And that’s what I’m here to talk to you about.” She shifted her bag under her arm. “Can you spare a moment?”
“No, he can’t.” It was Kowalczyk. Taft suddenly hated his new friend with a passion. “Get your autograph or move along, please.”
“I just wanted to ask you, Mr. Taft, why you refuse to appear on my show. Your reply didn’t give much of an explanation.”
Taft bristled. “Look here, madam. I used to get in far too much trouble by accepting invitations from every muckraker who happened along. I do sincerely appreciate your invitation, and perhaps in the future—”
“Mr. Taft,” she said, taking off her glasses. Her icy blue eyes lanced him to the quick. “It
is
the future. And the future needs you. You can’t dodge your destiny, sir.”
“And what destiny would that be?”
“Politics, of course. You’re advising your great-granddaughter,aren’t you? What are you planning? Is there a new dynasty in the making here? Taft 2012, perhaps? The public has a right to know, Mr. Taft!”
At that point, Kowalczyk had had enough. “Okay, lady, you’ve had your chat, and we have a plane to catch.”
The agent’s coterie fell into phalanx formation and pointed Taft on down the walkway. Pauline Craig was swept away in a swarm of bodies and chaos, but not before yelling, “Taft 2012! Is that what this is all about? Mr. Taft! Congresswoman! The nation is waiting for answers!”
Her voice trailed off as the Secret Service herded them in opposite directions. Again, the void in Taft’s gut felt as though it threatened to consume him. Again, his life was quickly spiraling out of his control.
CLASSIFIED
Secret Service Incidence Report
BBO20111124.015
Agent Ira Kowalczyk
At 1059, touched down at Cincinnati. Advance team confirms Grand Girl’s residence and Big Boy’s requested detour to Patterson both secure. No crowds in the airport on this end; possibly it’s just the D.C. populace that’s grown inured to the incognito approach.
cincinnati craigslist > personals > missed connections
Re: DID WM HOWARD TAFT TRIM HIS STACHE? (Airport)
Date: 2011-11-24 11:36 AM EST
Because I think I just saw him in Concourse B.
I didn’t want to bother the guy, though—it’s a holiday.
• Location: Airport
NINE
C incinnati wasn’t anything like he remembered. And it was exactly like he remembered.
What differed was the skyline. The buildings—so many more of them!—seemed like sad hulks pitted against the cosmos, crumbling guardians infested from within and taken for granted by their wards. In his day, Cincinnati was a city on its way up. New architecture, new commerce, new industry. It was clear, without having to consult any history book, that things had changed.
At the same time, the encroaching winter smelled and felt the same in his lungs and on his skin as it ever did. Rolling down the window of the automobile that carried them from the airport, he savored that familiar bouquet of frost and steam and industry, although, he had to admit, the air seemed cleaner than it had in his day. It stung his nose, but, more than that, it stung his memory.
“Rachel!” he said suddenly, rummaging around in one of his bags. “I’d completely forgotten. I know you must be in a rush to get home to your husband, as I am to meet him. But is there a chance we might make a stop along the way?” He produced an openedenvelope from his luggage and handed it to her. “Can you please pass this up to the driver? The address is on it.”
“What is this?” she said, turning it over.
“Just an almost acquaintance, one whose actual making is long overdue.”
Rachel, thankfully, didn’t pester or question him the way Susan would have. She nodded and spoke to the driver, who pulled the car off the busy thoroughfare and was soon cutting through a series of slushy side streets. It had started snowing, and a light dusting of tiny
“I did. And that’s what I’m here to talk to you about.” She shifted her bag under her arm. “Can you spare a moment?”
“No, he can’t.” It was Kowalczyk. Taft suddenly hated his new friend with a passion. “Get your autograph or move along, please.”
“I just wanted to ask you, Mr. Taft, why you refuse to appear on my show. Your reply didn’t give much of an explanation.”
Taft bristled. “Look here, madam. I used to get in far too much trouble by accepting invitations from every muckraker who happened along. I do sincerely appreciate your invitation, and perhaps in the future—”
“Mr. Taft,” she said, taking off her glasses. Her icy blue eyes lanced him to the quick. “It
is
the future. And the future needs you. You can’t dodge your destiny, sir.”
“And what destiny would that be?”
“Politics, of course. You’re advising your great-granddaughter,aren’t you? What are you planning? Is there a new dynasty in the making here? Taft 2012, perhaps? The public has a right to know, Mr. Taft!”
At that point, Kowalczyk had had enough. “Okay, lady, you’ve had your chat, and we have a plane to catch.”
The agent’s coterie fell into phalanx formation and pointed Taft on down the walkway. Pauline Craig was swept away in a swarm of bodies and chaos, but not before yelling, “Taft 2012! Is that what this is all about? Mr. Taft! Congresswoman! The nation is waiting for answers!”
Her voice trailed off as the Secret Service herded them in opposite directions. Again, the void in Taft’s gut felt as though it threatened to consume him. Again, his life was quickly spiraling out of his control.
CLASSIFIED
Secret Service Incidence Report
BBO20111124.015
Agent Ira Kowalczyk
At 1059, touched down at Cincinnati. Advance team confirms Grand Girl’s residence and Big Boy’s requested detour to Patterson both secure. No crowds in the airport on this end; possibly it’s just the D.C. populace that’s grown inured to the incognito approach.
cincinnati craigslist > personals > missed connections
Re: DID WM HOWARD TAFT TRIM HIS STACHE? (Airport)
Date: 2011-11-24 11:36 AM EST
Because I think I just saw him in Concourse B.
I didn’t want to bother the guy, though—it’s a holiday.
• Location: Airport
NINE
C incinnati wasn’t anything like he remembered. And it was exactly like he remembered.
What differed was the skyline. The buildings—so many more of them!—seemed like sad hulks pitted against the cosmos, crumbling guardians infested from within and taken for granted by their wards. In his day, Cincinnati was a city on its way up. New architecture, new commerce, new industry. It was clear, without having to consult any history book, that things had changed.
At the same time, the encroaching winter smelled and felt the same in his lungs and on his skin as it ever did. Rolling down the window of the automobile that carried them from the airport, he savored that familiar bouquet of frost and steam and industry, although, he had to admit, the air seemed cleaner than it had in his day. It stung his nose, but, more than that, it stung his memory.
“Rachel!” he said suddenly, rummaging around in one of his bags. “I’d completely forgotten. I know you must be in a rush to get home to your husband, as I am to meet him. But is there a chance we might make a stop along the way?” He produced an openedenvelope from his luggage and handed it to her. “Can you please pass this up to the driver? The address is on it.”
“What is this?” she said, turning it over.
“Just an almost acquaintance, one whose actual making is long overdue.”
Rachel, thankfully, didn’t pester or question him the way Susan would have. She nodded and spoke to the driver, who pulled the car off the busy thoroughfare and was soon cutting through a series of slushy side streets. It had started snowing, and a light dusting of tiny
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