THE VOICE OF CHICAGO'S GAY, LESBIAN, BI, TRANS AND QUEER COMMUNITY SINCE 1985

From the journal of John 'Jack' Quincy Adams, Chief Secret Service Special Agent in Charge, The White House. Code Name: One.

Part 38. The Real Story ( cont'd. )

Jack Adams, the Secret Service agent charged with assassinating President George W. Bush and being held for psychiatric evaluation, has told the psychiatrist the 'public' story. In a self-deleting computer file secretly delivered to his children by his former boss, he now reveals the 'real story.'

Once Barbara was gone Laura said, 'Do you know I never loved you? Did you know that? Go back to Washington, George, and leave me alone. I mean it. Leave me alone.'

'Do you know what the term First Family means, Laura? Well, like it or not, that's us, and the entire country looks to us for leadership and example. People want to be like us, Laura and we owe it to them….'

Laura burst out laughing. 'Be like you? You actually believe people want to be like us? We're like a family in an old black and white movie. We're gray. Gray, George. We have no color, no definition, no life. I used to, but then I married you. Correction. I married your fucking family.'

'Laura, watch your language. There are people around. One's probably right outside the door.'

'That's perfect. You sound just like her. I say I want a divorce and that's okay for people to hear, but the word 'fuck' is crossing the line. One might hear me. You are so pathetic I can't even talk to you.' As she said this, her voice faded somewhat, so I assume she was turning toward the door to leave.

'Laura, get hold of yourself. What are you talking about, divorce? You can't divorce me.'

'And that says it all, doesn't it?' Her voice was modulated again, but this time it sounded tired, weary.

'You can't, Laura, and you know it. It won't be tolerated. And I don't just mean by my mother. This is bigger than both of us. You must know that by now. Surely you understand….'

Then everything went quiet. I tapped my earpiece to make sure it was working. It seemed about a minute went by before Laura spoke again.

'I understand perfectly. Don't worry about me, Bushie. I'll take care of everything.' Her tone was flat. It was almost her Stepford voice. Was she cracking up finally? 'Everything will be fine. I'm just a little menopausal today. Don't worry, darling. I think I'll go take an aspirin and lie down for a while. By this time tomorrow everything will be fine. You'll see.'

She came to the dinner table next evening not all that different from her usual self if you didn't know her, but something was slightly off kilter. As though she might have taken a Valium. While they ate, she talked about wanting to re-do the closets in their bedroom and told Trailblazer that he needed to look at some new drawings for his presidential library that arrived by courier that afternoon. She also mentioned getting back to work organizing the books in the study, that is, his office. She seemed almost normal, except for 'the look' in her eyes. The look right behind the look she was giving everyone else. I had seen that look once before. That evening so long ago back in Midland when I was attending to her after her car accident, the one in which her boyfriend was killed.

I decided she was thinking of leaving. I fully expected to wake up the next morning and find her gone. She'd make up some excuse to tell the staff. Maybe she would say she was going to Midland to visit a friend and then she would disappear in the night.

I had this fantasy that one day I'd get a telephone call from her saying that she had thought it all over and realized she should have married me to begin with and that she thought we should spend our old age together. While I was waiting to fall asleep that night, I even fantasized that she came into my room and asked me to go with her, and I abandoned Project Intervention altogether.

I was torn about everything. Everything except the two of you. I knew I had to go through with my plan because if I didn't then your lives would never be the same. I had to protect you the way I protect presidents. I had to secure your lives so you could live them fully. So my grandchildren could grow up happy. Or at least with parents who loved them. I knew I had to kill him.