The Man Who Represented Himself (Part II)

John Q. “Johnny” Private, Jr. felt a bit strange on the morning of January 20th. He was now the governor of this great state, but he had awakened in his parents’ house! Well… it was complicated.

You see, John Sr., his  father, preceded him as governor, and they had all lived in this very governor’s mansion since he was 14 years old. So, even though the house was now his, technically, it felt no different than before he was elected. The old family home. He had even moved his wife in a few years back. Shoot, the wedding had been held in the mansion, too!

In any case, Johnny thought he had better grab himself a cup of coffee and head into the big office—his office. All the big meetings were scheduled for tomorrow, Tuesday, so he had all day to get acclimated to the secure phone and computer systems, he reckoned.

But no sooner had his hindquarters landed in daddy’s—his—big leather chair than Mona the secretary’s voice came blaring out of the intercom speaker on the desk.

“Good morning, Mr. Governor. You have a call on the private line, sir.”

“Uh… yes, thank you, Mona” said Johnny, hastily patting the coffee he had spat instinctively onto the desk from the intercom fright.

He wiped his mouth and chin with his handkerchief, and stuffed it back into his shirt pocket. Okay, let’s see now… private line… which one is the private—ah, Line 1.

“Hello?” said Johnny.

“Little Johnny Private!” said the deep-voiced woman on the line.

“Yes, Governor Private speaking. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

“Why, you have the pleasure of speaking to Wanda Watkins, my dear boy.”

“Oh, yes, hello Wanda. How are you?”

“I’d be much better if the governor found it in his heart to join me for lunch today.”

Honestly, Johnny hadn’t even thought about lunch today. He hadn’t gotten to that part yet.

“Um. I dunno. Is it… uh, something urgent?”

“It’s lunch. What could possibly be urgent about steak and martinis?”

“Yes, I see…”

“I’ll have my driver pick you up at quarter to 12 , yes?”

“Uh… yes, I guess that’ll be fine.”

“See you then, dahling” said Wanda Watkins.

Wanda had been a friend of the family as far back as he can remember. She went to school with his younger sister. Guest at the wedding. Her gift to Johnny and Jennifer (his wife) had been a wall clock modeled to look like a giant pocket watch. “Tacky,” Jennifer had said and told Mona to take it out to the dumpster right away.

The limo driver pulled up to the front door of the governor’s mansion at 11:43. Johnny grabbed his suit jacket on the way out. When the driver opened the door, the governor was startled for the second time today. A leaning-forward Wanda Watkins, somewhere between a half and a third dressed, smiled with open arms like “Ta-DAH!” “Don’t worry, silly. I have a coat in the trunk,” she said.

TO BE CONTINUED

My brand new novel, ULTIMATE ERROR, is about the consequences of corruption at all levels.