A Short Story Based In Fiction: A Phone Call In The Middle Of The Night (or: A Political Nightmare For America)
11:59 PM EDT November 8, 2016
Somewhere in Washington D.C. a phone rings. The ring tone is a familiar one, and brings to mind a high ranking person of authority in our nation's government. After a pair of rings, the phone is answered.
"Hello" a gravelly female voice answers the phone.
"Well, you got what you wanted, delivered on a silver platter. I told you I could deliver it to you. All you had to do was trust me. So, I'm saying it: I told you so. Congratulations."
A woman's shrill laugh ensues, and then the female answers back "Yes, you sure did! I had my doubts about your methods, especially these last six months. But you did deliver! I never really believed you could but you did. Thank you; from the bottom of my heart, thank you."
The caller laughs gruffly, a male voice acting as a counterpart to the female on the other end of the line. "So, how's your husband holding up? Think he will be acceptable in his new role? God, I am going to laugh my ass off the first time the press calls him..."
"Don't say it! Don't you dare! I'll make sure that term never gets uttered in the press and if it does I will take care of those that do behind the scenes,"
"Yeah, that behind the scenes stuff you do is good, I gotta admit. Hell, the press still hasn't found out about that last escapade you two took care of. By the way, how did you accomplish that one?"
"Never you mind. If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Another shrill laugh takes place and last several minutes, finally coming to an end only when the woman begins to cough and gasp for air. Then she continues.
"Really, I would."
The man on the other end who placed the call originally began to feel uncomfortable. He wondered: had he made a deal with the devil? Here he was, a Wall Street tycoon, multi-billionaire, real estate wheeler dealer, power broker deluxe and he suddenly had the feeling that this deal, which he himself had brokered, had turned on him. Maybe he wasn't so smart after all.
He thought back to other stories he had heard about this woman, stories he had put off as fabrication. But what if they weren't? What if they were true? He began to feel somewhat uneasy.
"Never mind, I was just curious; I don't need to know and frankly I don't give a damn if anything really happened. All I know is that you are now the single most powerful person in America and I had one hell of a lot to do with that. I hope you won't forget about me in the future and follow through on that promise you made me last year. After all, a promise is a promise."
The woman sat very still for a moment, allowing the tension to build through the silence. She well knew the power of a forced silence in a conversation having used that very power multiple times in dealing with powerful men from other countries, men used to seeing women cower before them. She did not cower; never had never would. Her husband knew this and after a few short years of trying to intimidate her had given it up for Lent. Both he and she knew who wore the pants in this family.
Finally she answered "No, I won't forget. And you need to not forget that if what you've done ever came out it would be the biggest scandal in this nation's history. Watergate would be forgotten; the Black Sox scandal would pale by comparison and everything you've ever done would fall apart, would cease to exist. Remember that." The man on the other end of the phone swallowed hard against the sudden fear that was developing in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly it became crystal clear: she owned him. When he thought this mad scheme up and pitched it to her, it was with an eye towards personal gain for him. He thought that by helping her to the highest post in the land he would be setting himself up like a king on a throne; he never imagined that in doing so that throne would be so fragile. She had played him even as he had thought he was playing her. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt that everything he had heard about her was true; everything. For the first time in his life he knew real fear.
"Look, I gotta go. I just wanted to say congratulations, no hard feelings on you winning and me losing and I look forward to working together at some point in the future. You take care, okay Hillary?"
Hillary, setting in a darkened room in her posh Washington home glanced at her husband who was sitting in a chair next to hers, thumbing through a magazine and smiling there in the dark. He looked up and caught her eyes as they shared a feral look that would make a strong man wince, maybe even turn and run.
"Oh, I will. You take care as well Donald. We'll be in touch, don't you worry. By the way, I heard you had picked up a new book to read; can you share the title with me? I'm always on the lookout for a good book."
Ron looked down at the book on the table beside him and suddenly it wasn't quite as funny as it was before. "N-no, Hillary I don't mind. It's by an anonymous author and is called Primary Colors. I thought it looked like a good work of fiction but now I'm not so sure."
Hillary's eyes narrowed and as she drew a breath it hissed through clenched teeth "No, I don't believe I would like that particular book and Donald, I don't believe you will either. in fact, why don't you just not even waste your time with that one. I'll keep my eyes open for something for you and when I find it I'll have it brought right over to you. Will you be in New York this weekend? Maybe we can drop by for a dinner at your house. Will you be home?"
Donald couldn't get off the phone quick enough. "No, unfortunately we won't be there, we'll be abroad for the foreseeable future, recovering from our defeat in the Presidential Election today. When we get back I'll call you. Bye." With that he hung up the phone and dropped it as if it were burning hot before staring at it, wondering at what he had gotten himself into.
Hillary slowly hung up the phone and looked at her spouse. "Well, I think he will be a good boy, don't you Hon? And now let's talk about our return to the White House, shall we? I think this time we'll do our bedroom in a pale pink; I've always loved pink, you know. What do you think dear?"
Her husband, well versed in how she played the game simply smiled and said "Yes Hillary, I do. Pink will be just fine with me."
It hit me today: what if the American People had been victims of a power play unlike anything our country had ever seen? What if Trump and Clinton had gotten together years ago and hatched a scheme where he accomplished the unthinkable and attained the Republican nomination for President and then became so disdained and unlikable that the voting public then voted for Hillary Clinton? What if the two of them (three including her husband) had developed a plan to take advantage of the fact that there was no truly strong Republican candidate, knew the American people were fed up with business as usual in Washington and used that anger to fuel Trump's fire, thereby leading a non-politician to attain the Candidacy before then attacking her on such a scale that the American People would feel sorry for her, and wound up electing her President of the united States.
But it is just a story, a work of fiction.
Isn't it? Well, isn't it?