Double Twist
Chapter 156
“The besom of reform hath swept him out of office, and a worthier successor wears his dignity and pockets his emoluments.”
—Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter
THE FIRST TWO WEEKS of August went by in too much of a hurry, partly because I was running and working out either with Nanette or with the team about five or six hours a day. Don’t think that was all running. With the new facilities at the school, we had weight machines we all had to work out on. And cycling close to two hundred runners through any kind of sensible training routine meant some had to be outside running and working on strategy while others were inside working on weight training and agility. We had hot tubs and ice baths in the new training rooms as well. If I was really nice at night and offered to exchange services, I could often get a massage before bed from Nanette. That was enjoyable for both of us. Emily and Donna both decided they needed to learn and we had massage round robins on a nightly basis.
The full pod—those of us in town—gathered on Wednesdays and Saturdays and we always had a few extra bodies to rub down. It was a delight to have my girlfriends stretched out naked in front of me while I oiled my hands and let them walk across the girls’ naked flesh. I used a lot of oil on Desi’s boobs Wednesday night. On Friday, though, Desi, Brittany, Sophie, and Cindy left for Kentucky. I passed on working the Ren Faire this year because I had cross country practice every day. So, once again, we were spread out. They’d spend ten days down there and be back in time for school to start on the sixteenth.
That left just Donna, Beca, Emily, Nanette, and me in town. Beca moved in with us. Her mom had decided not to return to Thailand for the summer session this year but was talking about moving there long-term when Beca started her service.
It seemed like if I wasn’t running, I was practicing. I had a lesson each week with Vinnie, two lessons with Herr Richter, and a lesson with Sarah Stonebraker, a sweet older woman who taught mandolin. She was in her mid-fifties, a little plump, and performed in Renaissance ensembles around the area, especially for the winter madrigals and revels. Learning the different fingering for the three instruments I was working on required hours of practice.
“What are you writing, love?” Donna asked as she placed a hand on my shoulder Sunday night. I leaned back against her caress. She let it deepen and leaned in to give me a kiss. I could feel her soft breasts pressed into my shoulder. As was usually the case in the evening, we were all naked and I loved the feel of her caressing me.
“A short story about making love to you,” I sighed. “Only I can’t make it short. It seems to go on forever.”
“Liar,” she giggled. “Though maybe I should take you to bed for some more primary research.”
“Mmm. I could stop work on this essay for now.”
“Essay?”
“Yeah. It seems really unfair that we have an assignment due the first day of school. Of course, Beca has hers all wrapped up and Britt and Desi promised they’d work on theirs this week. We have a list of topics to choose from and need to hand the essay in for Senior English on day one,” I explained.
“I don’t envy the teachers for that class. Do you know who you’ll have?”
“Ms. Pixler. I’ve met her a couple of times and she seems nice. After I met with her, I decided not to take the advanced composition class. I love the writing but too much is too much. I can’t imagine how she manages to read all the essays that are on the syllabus.”
“I found her to be very knowledgeable and a good presenter when I sat in on one of her classes. She even gave me some helpful teaching hints when I first started. She’s been at Mad Anthony for years,” Donna said.
“I think she might still be struggling to adjust to the new world order,” I said. “The instructions for this essay are focused on college applications. I suppose a few years ago, that was the right place to focus. Now, when pretty much no one goes to college right out of high school, it seems that the essay could be a little more focused on the National Service or on life lessons or something.”
“I know she intended to have options for that but I can see how difficult it would be to judge an essay’s appropriateness in that context when we don’t or didn’t know anything about what was expected,” Donna said.
“Well, I have a first draft, though it still needs a stronger conclusion. I just used the idea that there were things the National School of the Arts needed to know about me before I show up next summer. That was pretty close to the topic for admission to Rutgers. I think I’m ready to quit for the evening and focus on my research for the short story on making love to you.” I twisted in my seat and caught Donna’s right nipple between my lips, bathing it with my tongue. She sighed and pressed forward.
“I think my bed is available for exploratory research,” she said. “Let’s start with a shower.”
I lay with Donna in the afterglow of fantastic sex, my cock still lightly pulsing in her welcoming pussy. We each sprinkled kisses on the other’s face, occasionally touching lips, perhaps the tips of our tongues as we did our best to tell the other how much in love we were. Two years ago, making love to Donna Levy was a schoolboy’s dream—an infatuation with his teacher. But we had long since abandoned the roles of teacher and student. We were lovers. We were mates.
“Donna, my love, I’ve lived with you for four months,” I began.
“Beautiful months,” she sighed. “There’s never been a time in my life when I had so much welcome loving. Not just from you, but from all our girlfriends, too.”
“I feel the same way. But I’m also concerned that I don’t contribute enough. I realized as I was running this morning that I didn’t pay you rent. I’m sure I don’t contribute enough for food. And with Em living here, too, I feel like we’re freeloading.”
“What a sweet and considerate lover you are. But it’s not something you need to worry about yet.”
“Why not?”
“You are still a dependent of your parents and they are providing your housing, just like they would be if you were living in the same house. The insurance has to cover housing costs while your home is being rebuilt and they’ve been dragging their feet to approve plans. So, the process is behind,” Donna said. “They’ve been paying me a monthly stipend for housing you, just as they are paying Nanette rent on her house. Nanette is, in turn, also contributing a monthly amount, equal to yours. Emily agreed to the rate before you even moved her here from Kansas. And, by the way, when Beca and any of the other girlfriends stay here, I don’t charge them anything because they aren’t living here. But each of our loving girlfriends always brings plenty to help with groceries and everyone chips in with cleaning and maintenance. It’s all good.”
“Whew! I’m glad to hear that. But I’ll be eighteen in two months and will need to make my own contribution. And I’m worried about Em not having a job.”
“As far as you are concerned, your parents are supporting you through high school. You can talk to Emily, but she doesn’t seem to be worried and already has a feeler out for driving locally. She just wants to take a little time off after her two years of service.”
“I love you, Donna. I never want to become a financial burden on you or anyone in our pod. I understand you and Nanette and Sophie are ahead of the rest of us in terms of income and stability, but you aren’t responsible for supporting our whole family. We should have a pod meeting so that we’re all on the same page. It’s like we’ve taken over your home.”
“Yes, we should all meet, but it’s our home, Jacob. I’ve never been so happy here in my life. I’d be even happier, though, if you moved a little and hardened so we can do this again.”
“You guys, we need to tune in the TV,” Beca said as she came into the kitchen Wednesday evening. “Joan just called and said they are putting up notices of a special presidential address tonight. It comes on at nine Eastern so everyone can tune in no earlier than six across the country.”
“What’s the president got to say tonight?” I asked. “She’s been pretty quiet since the inauguration. Six months and everyone is wondering what the heck she’s been up to.”
“Well, we know she renewed diplomatic relations with Mexico and the border is now open to limited traffic. She’s still working on trade relations. China and Europe jumped all over Mexico’s sudden surplus of food for trade and now there isn’t much left to trade with the US,” Em said. “Did Joan say what the topic of the speech was tonight?”
“Duh! If you’d give me a chance to finish… She’s talking about the National Service. There were three things she emphasized during her inaugural address: normalize relations with Mexico, renew leases and our military presence worldwide, and straighten out the National Service laws so we don’t have another fiasco like the so-called national emergency. She talked about opening the border on Memorial Day,” Beca said.
“She can’t just, like, unilaterally end it, can she?” I suggested wistfully. That would ease so much of our concerns about next year that we could start planning our lives effectively.
“It’s in the constitution. Even executive orders can’t countermand the constitution—though some presidents have tried.”
“My fellow Americans, we are living in times of great change. Seven years ago, our nation launched the great endeavor of enlisting every young person in the country in National Service based on an amendment to the constitution ratified ten years before by the people of the United States of America. We discovered what a huge task it was to coordinate four million new volunteers a year and live up to the promises made when the amendment was proposed. Not every step has been smooth sailing. But in my inaugural address seven months ago, I promised a complete review of the laws, rules, regulations, and procedures for the National Service.
“I intended at the time that congress should undertake this review. Congress wrote the current law in a haphazard manner and it was more a product of disagreement and compromise than of strategic operations. Sadly, our United States Senate and House of Representatives is still mired in red tape that has prevented it from dealing with the National Service. The red tape includes six cabinet positions in which the nominees have yet to be approved and over one hundred federal judgeships that require congressional approval and are still ‘in review.’
“We can no longer be held hostage by a progress prevention congress. Therefore, I have established, by executive order, a commission charged with reviewing and rewriting the National Service legislation, rules, and regulations. The National Service Review Commission will be chaired by Governor Aaron Adamson of Vermont and will include men and women representing all walks of life and levels of experience. Yes, that means we will be seeking out representatives from those currently serving and those who are to begin service in the next two years. For too long, we have left these vital decisions in the hands of the old men of congress. It is time for the youth to have a voice in how their lives will be run.
“The task facing this commission is immense. The current legislation is many pages in length. The current rules, regulations, and procedures manual is over 1,275 pages, including rules on whether or not a National Service corps member can marry, how many hours a standard workweek will be, and how long a woman’s fingernails may be. The National Service is a civilian corps. Its operating procedures will no longer be based on military structure.
“I want every person in America to know, I’ve read the manual. And I find it atrocious.”
As we watched in the living room, we all gasped as we saw an image cut from our video in the background of the press room. Sophie defiantly stood in front of the statue of Thomas Jefferson with her scroll unfurled, proudly declaring, ‘I’ve read the manual.’
“The National Service Review Commission is charged with preparing a comprehensive reform bill which we will present to congress before the winter recess. The American people deserve no less and we are through waiting. If we cannot reform the National Service legislation, then we need to repeal the twenty-eighth amendment. This president is raising the bar.”
“Holy fuck!” I breathed when the president had concluded. “Did she just quote me? Intentionally?”
“Twice,” Emily said. “Clarifying each of the memes.”
“She just essentially declared war on congress,” Nanette said. “We’ll soon see how strong her support base is. We need to write to our representatives and senators immediately. This could go either way.”
“She clearly painted a picture of congress being obstructionist and preventing the reforms that were called for in the last election,” Donna said. “There will definitely be a backlash. We should…” My phone rang. I looked at the screen and swore softly.
“This is Jacob Hopkins,” I said formally.
“Jacob, it’s Dr. Donahue, assuming you didn’t already know that. Did you listen to the president’s address this evening?”
“Yes ma’am. It was… surprising.”
“I was unable to give you more specific information when you visited us, but I hope you were pleased.”
“I’m not sure if that’s the right word. Hopeful, certainly.”
“Well, we want you to be a part of it,” she said. I nearly dropped the phone.
“We?”
“Yes. I will be serving on the commission and identified you as a person in the pre-service category we would like input from—possibly with Miss Marvel if she will agree to participate.”
“I don’t know that I have the expertise to be drafting legislation,” I said. I left unspoken the words, ‘do you?’
“Let’s say you’d participate as an expert witness. We’ll have legal professionals draft the actual legislation. It’s unlikely you would even meet with the entire commission, which we’re trying to keep smaller than the 535 members of congress. Of course, now that the president has made her declaration, all the members of the House and Senate want to be involved.”
“Of course. I’d be happy to participate if you consider my contribution of value. School starts Monday but I’m sure we can get some accommodations.”
“We’ll work with your school. What I’d like you to start working on right away is your next video.”
“What would you like us to present?” I figured this was where the conversations were going to go. If the president was using our video and memes in her address, she was going to want us out there singing her song, so to speak. I heard Dr. Donahue sigh.
“Be creative. I told you when you were here that we don’t want to control your art. Use it? Yes. But we want the message to come from the heart, not from the government.”
“We’ll start working on something right away, ma’am. Thank you for your confidence.”
“Plan on premiering it here at the school with a small audience in mid-September. Have your producer contact me and we’ll work out the details. You stay focused on the music and the message. Have a good evening, Jacob.”
“Thank you, Dr. Donahue. Good evening.”
I disconnected and dropped the phone on the sofa. My girlfriends had a million questions. I couldn’t answer them. I couldn’t talk. I walked into Donna’s bathroom and started the shower. I remembered to take off my clothes before I stepped in.
All five of us piled into Donna’s bed that night. I’d come to my senses enough to realize I needed to call Cindy, Desi, Sophie, and Brittany. Then Donna brought me to my senses about what time it was and I decided to wait until morning. Em and Donna bracketed me with Nanette and Beca on the side, cuddling each other.
“I might have changed all our lives for the worse,” I sighed. Even with four beautiful naked women in bed with me, showering with me, petting and rubbing me, I hadn’t been up for any loving play. I thought of the implications of being singled out by the president and having our videos linked to her speech. It seemed like we had no choice now. We were going to be thrust into the limelight as partisans regarding the National Service for better or worse. I wondered if I’d betrayed Cindy with my smart off-the-cuff responses and the promotion of our memes. Yes, we had gained some popularity and made some money off our merchandise, but had we sold out our art—made it less that she could be?
“Or for the better,” Beca said from behind Donna. “Dr. Donahue gave you artistic control. No, didn’t give it to you. You already had it and she confirmed she wasn’t going to infringe. You need to dig inside you, Jacob—inside the real you—and decide what kind of an impact you should have on this world we live in. Then we—all of us together—set out to make it happen.”
“That makes it sound like I have all the answers. I’m seventeen and hardly know our history. I still get confused about what congress does. Can the president even create a commission without some kind of congressional oversight? I wish they’d let me take the constitutional government class last year instead of having to wait until this year. I might have some idea of what I can and can’t do.”
“And it might have stifled your creativity at a time when you needed it most,” Donna said. “I’ll call and talk to Dr. Donahue tomorrow and find out what the parameters are and why she wants us to do this in Washington. What you’ll have to do is focus on getting music, getting it arranged, and getting Cindy on board. Or more. I could see this one using the whole troupe like we did in GBU.”
“I can see already how much we need that arranger Dr. Donahue mentioned. I think I’ll call Ms. Devine tomorrow and see if she has some suggestions.”
“For that matter, call Remas and see if she wants to audition sooner than later,” Emily giggled.
“Em! Do we really want another woman in our pod? Let’s keep the audition to musical arrangements and not musical beds,” I said. On the other hand, there was something about Remas that I liked. She smelled a little like honey. I wondered if the sweet smell had influenced my willingness to talk to her about working with us.
“Sleep now, darling,” Nanette said, reaching across Beca and Donna to touch my arm. “We’re running ten miles in the morning. You’ll sort things out during the run.”
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