Double Twist
Chapter 184
“Numquam praestantibus in re publica gubernanda viris laudata est in un sententia perpetua permansio.”
(Sticking with what they think has never helped political leaders.)
Cicero, Epistulae ad Familiares, I, 9, 21
I DIDN’T HAVE TIME to mope about when Desi and her parents pulled out Thursday for Washington, DC. It was the first day of second semester and I had a mandolin lesson at seven-thirty. Sarah complimented our broadcast on New Year’s Eve and said it must have been a great honor to work so closely with the president. I just thanked her. That set the tone for my day.
Physics was its usual boring class. My teacher was so dull I couldn’t even remember his name most of the time. On the other hand, Ms. Pixler was in top form, giving her introduction to Hamlet as a forum for discussing how we deal with the pressures in life. Near the end of the period, she handed back our term papers from last semester. I’d been worried about this one. I compared the National Service to Frankenstein’s Monster. A red ‘A’ was written at the top of the paper. I looked through it and she hadn’t written a single comment. I sighed. Another sign of presidential influence.
Miss Lustig had us start right in reading Cicero and translating aloud. She corrected pronunciation and challenged the meaning of words we mistranslated. There were only twelve of us left in the class. Next year, I guessed there would be eight who hadn’t graduated and wondered if she would stick around to finish year four of Latin or just take her long-delayed retirement.
LeBlanc asked Cindy and me to meet him during our lunchtime on Friday. I was surprised he didn’t just hold us in class to talk about whatever was on his mind.
Business math was just a review of where we left off first semester and an introduction to trends and projections. That could be interesting. I’d completely lost track of where we were professionally and was thinking I needed to look at our books, our market share, and projections for the next six months.
Then there was Mr. Richards and constitutional government.
“I scarcely know where to begin,” he said. “We did a lot of discussion about National Service and how government functions last semester. We had a unique opportunity and I juggled some of our topics that would normally be covered first semester so we could make use of resources. Now, I want to delve back into the constitution, specifically Articles one to three that describe the function of the branches of government. During the course of this first term, I want to focus on whether we continue to have an effective system of checks and balances, or if we are moving toward a more executive-centric government with supporting branches. Who is, and who is not, functioning within the purview of their constitutional authority?”
It should be an interesting year.
After school, Cindy and I practiced for the first time this week. We were still working to finalize the program for our spring break concert and had not yet figured out if we needed more arrangements from Remas. I wanted to talk to each of our east coast girlfriends and begin to get a feel for what we were getting into.
I got home to find Sophie was with us for dinner. During the week—except Wednesdays—it was usually, just Donna, Em, Nanette, and me.
“I was just holding these when they started coming in, but as of today we have a dozen requests for endorsements and public appearances in support of legislative candidates around the country,” Sophie said. “I really didn’t expect anything like this until late spring, if at all. Do we have a list of candidates we are supporting for the fall elections?”
“No!” I realized I’d spoken louder than normal and my girlfriends all stared at me. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to shout.”
“Nonetheless, you were quite definite about it,” Donna said. “You’ve become highly recognized. Are you sure you don’t want to throw your support behind some select candidates?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.” I took a deep breath. Of all my girlfriends, Nanette probably knew better than anyone that something was bothering me. She ran with me in the mornings and I hadn’t been going easy, even though I’d never run another high school footrace again. “Um… It seems it isn’t as obvious to anyone else as it is to me, but the president fucked us up.”
“Jacob?” Em said. “We got exactly what we wanted, didn’t we?”
“Yeah. The problem is that having quoted our memes and then making her announcement the day after our broadcast—and quoting me again—she made it appear that we are an extension of her plans, not that we influenced her. If we’d been contacted and asked by her to provide propaganda to reinforce her position, I’d have considered it. We seem to be well aligned. At least on the National Service. But by doing it the way she did, she made it sound like we’d been preparing people for her announcement all along. We’re accessories before the fact, as Mr. Richards pointed out to me after class today.”
“What does that have to do with endorsing a candidate?” Sophie asked.
“As tightly as we’re now identified with the president, endorsing a candidate would appear to be the president endorsing him or her. I don’t think we should play that game. If we have an election purpose, I’d like it to stay ‘Vote anyone out of office who doesn’t support reform.’ That keeps our target specific and we don’t have to deal with vetting candidates.”
“I see,” Donna said. Nan and Em were nodding their heads as well. It seemed this was a night for me to sit with the elders of our pod. I loved each of them to the ends of the earth. But Donna wasn’t finished. “This being co-opted by the president has been bothering you ever since the announcement, hasn’t it?” I could only sigh and nod my head. “First, you need to let everyone in on your thinking. We should try to have a Skype call Saturday so Joan, Rachel, Remas, Livy, and Desi can participate and understand what’s bothering you.” I nodded again. “Second, there’s another aspect to what you are saying—and I’m not disagreeing with you at all. That other aspect is that the president has taken a huge risk. We still have no indication that she is or will pressure you in one way or another. I don’t think we can track down any influence or pressure on our pod in preparing the concert tour. Not regarding content. Dr. D even excused herself from reviewing the content so she wouldn’t influence us. If that continues, the president is vulnerable to anything you happen to say. Certainly, that will be important in your concerts and chats with patrons. But I dare say, any one of your classmates could be recording you in class discussions. If you happened to make a disparaging remark about a teacher—not that you ever would—it could go viral in a day. Comments about candidates or political figures are likely to become hashtags at least and possibly memes with your picture attached. They would immediately be associated with the president.”
“Oh, crap!” I said. “I was so wrapped up thinking about how she destroyed our credibility that I didn’t think of the risk she was taking.”
“I think I’d zip my lip and never say anything,” Nanette said. “That puts a lot of responsibility on your shoulders.”
“I’m going to have to start thinking before I spout off. Nobody thinks of me as just a smartass kid now. Now I’m an administration spokesperson. Fuck! I mean, excuse me. Doggone it.”
“This is really critical for the whole pod to be in on,” Em said. “Believe me, we are all still solidly behind our message and the way you expressed it. If anything, having Celia and Leslie stay with us for a night cemented that. But we all need to understand what’s at risk when we open our mouths.”
We managed to get the whole pod together and Skype Joan, Rachel, Livy, Remas, and Desi Saturday morning. The three DC girls and Livy were easy as they were all together for the weekend to get Desi settled in. Joan joined us with a yawn, claiming she’d been up late. It looked like Beca had been up late, too.
“It sounds scary,” Rachel said, “but I’m not worried about it.”
“Why not, sweetheart?”
“The transition from a review commission to the Office of Civilian Service has been smooth, even though it was rushed. I’ve never heard of politicians keeping something so secret without a national security order. The orders for new housing went through a month ago and no one knew. The OCS is going to do exactly what we wanted and they aren’t suddenly going to try to control you or your message.”
“Congress, on the other hand, might try to influence you,” Remas said. “I agree with not backing any specific candidate. There is a long history of campaigning for an issue instead of a person. We should stick to it.”
“We’ve always tried to be polite and not talk smack to our elders,” Beca said. “Granted, you got carried away once or twice, but I think it is like the test instructions Ray gave us. Go into every situation with the right attitude and let aptitude take care of itself. In this case, let’s keep to established and well-known positions and then not worry about how we defend them.”
“I think you are right, Rebeca,” Donna said. “And Jacob, I fully agree with your stance on not backing specific candidates but making sure the message is loud and clear regarding voting out those opposed to reform. Honey, I know this is really a tough time for you and you are feeling a little betrayed. No matter that we had twenty million viewers Friday night, the president had eighty million on Saturday. That’s a lot more than normally watch the president’s State of the Union address to congress. That means that most people don’t know or recognize that you put the words in the president’s mouth. We should follow our normal conversation until and unless someone in authority tells you to shut up.”
“And don’t contradict anyone who believes you represent the president. Ignore them,” Remas said. “The burden is on her, not you.”
“Well, I’m just glad our next live stream concert is small and intimate,” I said. “I’m guessing we’ll be performing for the commission—or the OCS now, I guess. They couldn’t tell us that before now. If you are all in agreement, we’ll just pretend a link to the president never occurred. Okay?”
“I think that’s fine,” Em said. “Now let’s talk about getting married.” There were audible gasps, both in the sunroom and on Skype. “I would like to ask each of you, the thirteen members of our pod, to be my spouse. I want us to invite our parents and anyone else you think will come, to join me in Boston to be officially registered as a Plural Domestic Partnership.”
That took us all by surprise and there was a chorus of ‘yes’ heard all the way around.
“Jacob, there are two of us who can’t just run off and marry everyone,” Brittany said, pulling Cindy close to her. “If you want us, you need to convince our parents to sign a consent form. And you need to do it soon.”
“Just me?”
“I think it will work best if you approach the Adamses and Marvels on behalf of the entire pod,” Nanette said. “We can be a little overwhelming when we approach people as a whole pod. And we want to get things done,” Nanette said. “Donna, Emily, and I have looked at the entire process and we sent inquiries to the Massachusetts Secretary of State. We have confirmed that we need—and thanks to Donna, we have—a single domicile. We are not required to show any statement or proof that we are all sexually involved with each other. Families don’t all need to be sexually intimate. The main thing we don’t have is a common name. We need to choose what we will be called. I think that is the single biggest decision we need to make.”
“Wow!” I said. Eloquent. “When do we want to get married?”
There was a lot of discussion about that. We all agreed we wanted to have our ceremony attended by our parents, if possible. Some states—well, most states at the moment—didn’t recognize plural domestic partnerships, but the new policy and procedure manual of the National Service—which arrived this week—had a clause that officially recognized the plural relationships as equal in effect to marriage. We didn’t reach agreement on the date because we expected some push-back from Cindy’s and Brittany’s parents. The rest of us would all be eighteen before we formalized our relationship.
I went to the Adams family home for Sunday dancing with the same trepidation as any beau about to ask his girlfriend’s parents for her hand in marriage. I think Sophie and Brittany had done some prep work. John and Lupe knew, of course, that Brittany was sexually active within our group and turned a blind eye to it. They had been good to us, allowing Brittany to spend Wednesday nights and weekends at the farm with our pod. I think they still told themselves Brittany was safe because her aunt was with her. They hadn’t acknowledged any relationship between Sophie and Brittany, even though the two shared a room when they were home.
I was sure to join with all the family when we danced. It was nice that Luke was there and had really picked up on the dances with Joyce and Lisa. That was good, because John (Gomez) and I only had to deal with Brittany, Lupe, Sophie, and Grandma. We’d even started to adapt some of the dance steps for three people.
Grandma wanted to dance with me, and the old doll was just as facile with salsa as her daughters and granddaughters.
“Do you know why I’m here today, Grandma?” I asked as we danced and gyrated in the living room.
“I suppose you want my daughter and granddaughter to be part of your official harem,” she said. “Do you love them?”
“With all my heart.”
“The Catholic Church has always maintained marriage to be between one man and one woman,” she said. “That is your biggest obstacle—not whether or not I approve.”
“That may be true, Abuela,” I said. “But I could never approach John and Lupe without your approval.”
“Oh, I knew it would come to this when Brittany chose you as her quinceañera partner. I’m not as old as you might think. Not in my head. I follow the news. I watch you interact. I could see it in your eyes all the way back when you played your guitar in this room and the two girls danced. John and Lupe have chosen to be blind. It is time to open their eyes. You have my blessing, Nieto.”
Well that was a huge hurdle to cross. I felt more confident when I danced with Lupe.
“Do you know I love your daughter?” I asked as we spun across the floor.
“It is hard to miss,” she sighed. “Any more than I can miss the look in my sister’s eye when she sees you. Will you always be good to her?”
“Always, Madre.”
“She won’t graduate a virgin, will she?” she asked. What could I do but be honest.
“No, Madre.”
“You know I only want what is best for her. Are you the best hope she has?”
“I… We are the only hope she desires.”
“We. Ah. You will have them all. Do you know how hard this is on a mother? Still, I see my other two daughters developing such a relationship with one young man. They are both besotted. Of course, they have time to grow out of it. Brittany’s course is set. Yes. Now you must only convince her father.”
Shit. I couldn’t exactly dance with Gomez. Lupe kept my hand and led me to the kitchen. There, she laid out the ingredients for a mojito and had me mix two of them.
“You will need to share one of these before you ask him,” she said. Yes, John had a fondness for rum and I wouldn’t be surprised if I discovered Lupe had used the same technique to get him to propose. I took the drinks with me and waved at John. Seeing the drink in my hand, he left his daughter and came to join me. Brittany, Sophie, Lupe, and Grandma slipped away into a corner to talk. John and I went out the back door to their patio with our drinks. He stopped at his humidor and chose two cigars.
Oh, shit. I hadn’t had a cigar since before V1 entered the home. My mouth was watering. He cut his own cigar and handed me mine and the cutter. I sliced the V in the end of the cigar and held it between my teeth. He handed me his lighter and I held it to the tip of the cigar. Then I took a long pull.
And choked. Even without inhaling, smoke gets in your lungs.
V1 smoked cigars for forty years, but V3 had never had smoke in his mouth. Christ! Had it been this bad the first time V1 lit up? Gomez started laughing.
“Not so much of a man as you think?” he said.
“It’s an acquired taste,” I said. I took a little swig of my drink and wondered if I was going to be conscious long enough to ask him for his daughter’s hand.
“Jacob, do you have any idea what it is like to have a daughter? And I have not one, but three. I’m a man. I might not be Cuban, but I’m still protective of my women. And you have come here to take my daughter away from me.”
“I… Well…”
“Do you think I don’t know why you have danced with the women before you brought me my favorite drink? Mixed by my wife, no doubt.”
“She showed me how.”
“Well, she knows better than anyone. This is perfect. You have convinced the women that you should have Brittany in your harem. Convince me.”
“Mr. Adams—John, I don’t have a harem. I am part of a pod. When I ask for your daughter’s hand, it is not only for myself. It is on behalf of the entire pod, who have sent me to ask,” I said. He cocked an eyebrow and took a long drag on his cigar. I copied him. The second hit wasn’t so harsh. I’d need to decide if V3 was going to regularly smoke cigars. I had a feeling my girlfriends would have something to say about that.
“She… my daughter… is… involved with the women of your pod?”
“You must know that, sir.”
John sighed and gazed out at the early stars. The sun set at five-thirty and we stood on the patio silently as we watched the sky.
“I’m not Catholic,” he said. “Oh, I go to the church. I raised my family in the church. My wife is Catholic, as is her mother and sister. I go through all the motions, but in my heart, I never accepted all the doctrine. You are my punishment for being a hypocrite.” We both had sips from our glasses again and stood in silence puffing on the cigars. “Well, ask.”
“Mr. Adams, on behalf of our pod, I’m asking for Brittany’s hand as a member of our plural domestic partnership. I understand it is not the way of traditional marriage, but we love her and will always care for her, protect her, and provide for her. We will support her dreams and see that she thrives in this crazy world we find ourselves in. Please give your consent so that we can formalize what is already present in our hearts.”
“And she consents?”
“She has told me so.”
“When?”
“We haven’t set a date. It will definitely be before we graduate. We’ve all been invited to move to Washington DC in July. We want our family stable and together before then.”
“And you’ll take Sophie, too?”
“Yes.”
“Leave your cigar and go mix me another drink, please,” he said. I placed my cigar in the tray and took his glass in the house. Lupe met me in the kitchen to supervise the mixing. When she was satisfied I had it right, I went back outside. Lupe followed me. Grandma, Brittany, and Sophie were already out there. The three kids were still inside dancing and I thought I saw a couple of kisses as I walked by.
I gave John his drink and pulled Sophie and Brittany to me in a hug. They both lifted their faces for a kiss.
“She’s so young!” Lupe moaned.
“You were married at sixteen and pregnant at seventeen,” Grandma said. “She’s outlasted you.”
“Brittany, you want to join with this man and the other members of this pod?” John asked.
“Yes, Papa. I have found true love and want to pledge myself to them forever,” Brittany responded.
“Forever is a very long time. And you, Sophie? You are also a member of this pod?”
“Yes, John. And, so you have no doubts, I love Brittany as much more than my niece. We both want this.”
“What can a father and brother do when faced with a choice like this. I must give you my consent. I assume this will require a formal signature when you have the ceremony. From both of us, Lupe.” Brittany’s mother was crying and John folded his arms around her as she nodded her head. “You have our blessing,” he said.
“And mine,” Grandma added. “Sophie can sign for herself, but I give you my blessing, children.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Sophie and Brittany quickly packed an overnight bag and left with me spend the night at the farm.
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