March 2019
Another month and a half of this! Senator Wilber stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He had been trying to pound out his frustration through the heels of his shoes, but to no avail. They only echoed aimlessly down the hall. It was the entrance to a series of tunnels that linked four of the government buildings together. It saved them from having to pass through the multiple opinions shouting at them from the lawn. Senator Wilbur knew it was only a temporary solution. He seethed, staring off with the hallway walls. There’s no pleasing anybody! No matter which way I choose, someone’s going to hate me!
Same old song, yet he found himself raving it every year he pulled himself back into this madhouse. Constituents lined up to rant about their problems to him, he tried his best to follow through for the good of his district… only to have them get angry for, apparently, not doing what he had heard them ask him to do! Not that Senator Wilber made a habit of this complaining. There would be no pleasing everyone, no matter what profession one entered in life. A politician simply bore the brunt of it. The construction bill though, it was a good idea. It would work towards creating hundreds of new jobs in his district and the surrounding counties. People moving in to fill those jobs would boost revenues in the other industries.
However, the workers who had been breaking their backs for twelve or twenty years weren’t willing to take those new jobs without higher pensions and full benefits for themselves. They argued it on the basis of seniority. Only, no one was willing to provide the money to cover said benefits.
Wasn’t there a parable about this?Senator Wilber’s memory pulled at a sermon he had heard last month. A story about an owner who paid the same amount to workers he’d hired at different times of the day. He remembered it because his wife had accompanied him to the service. He’d been able to go home last weekend. Little had been said, but as he was headed out the door Sunday morning, his wife had appeared on the stairs; dressed and groomed.
‘I- I don’t want to be alone today’ had been her words.
‘I wouldn’t want you to be.’ Senator Wilber had answered her.
She’d revealed a former shade of the woman he’d loved for twenty-seven years. She hadn’t come back completely; but then, neither had he. Likely, neither of them would ever be ‘back’. But it was enough. He’d surprise her by coming back this weekend. I’ll make her St. Patrick pancakes, with the mint chocolate chips…
Senator Wilber’s phone pinged after an unusual 15 second lapse. It wasn’t a call, but an email. All emails had to go through Mrs. Chapman, but on the occasion one slipped through. Even though his cell number was supposed to be private. Like the word ‘private’ meant anything in this century. Senator Wilbur opened the email.
You think you can just run our lives! The text screamed out. Why don’t you end it, like your daughter did!
Senator Wilber deleted the words immediately, skin going cold, though heat gathered up the back of his neck. How dare that-
“Senator Wilber.”
He turned his head, angry at the interruption. Until he saw who it was. Seated on the bench in the whitewashed, underground hallway was Jung Pang. As always, her timing proved to be perfect. Balming, even. It was in an ivy green turtleneck and skirt today, her hair smoothed into a ponytail. It was one of those high ones that Rebecca had always favored. His daughter’s hair had been so unruly, she’d spend hours fussing with it… Senator Wilber put his phone out of sight and walked up to Jung, ejecting a smile. He had come to expect Jung giving one to anyone that came in her proximity. Today, she didn’t disappoint- only it didn’t seem her usual genuine.
Senator Wilber gave this his concern, pushing the burn of the email’s words back. “Miss Pang… are you well?”
She let out a groan; an odd sound from her. “That is a trifold question, Senator Wilber. Mentally and spiritually, I’m fit as fiddle. Physically however…”
Jung lifted her right foot then. The heeled shoe had been discarded to show the torn stocking over her heel and knee. The ankle was beginning to swell!
“Good grief, Jung!” Senator Wilber took the bench beside her. “What happened?”
She lifted her ankle higher with a chuckle. “I tried to save time by taking the stairs three at a time. It backfired.”
“I’ll call the house physician.” Senator Wilber pulled his phone back out.
“You really call him that?” Jung laughed. She tapped her knee. “His office is on the second floor, you know. And we’re not allowed to use the elevators during the lunch hour…”
A swollen ankle and she still talks.Senator Wilber waited for someone to pick up Dr. Lane’s line. Suddenly the talking was replaced with a sharp whistle shooting down the cavernous hall. He looked at Jung, who was eyeing the little concession stand at the far end. It was an accommodation that had been put under the statehouse in the nineties, so the officials could avoid the public when need be. Several of Jung’s fellow interns, lined up innocently for their snacks, had turned their heads.
“Trevor!” Jung waved at them. “You have big arms. Can you give me a lift?”
She held out her ankle at full length to do the self-explaining. They stared at it, then back at her face. Because her face did something very odd; it frowned. Senator Wilber skulked back an inch, spooked.
“You watched me tumble down and limp like a war hero onto this bench.” Jung yelled to her line of co-workers. Her fingers were tapping on her knee again, like an impatient schoolteacher. Not one of the interns moved.
They’re not going to risk losing face for her. Senator Wilber realized sadly. Most of the interns that came through their program were pursuing political careers themselves. And so much of that had to do with public image… one that didn’t involve lugging injured women up three flights of marble stairs. Course, Senator Wilber was willing to get her access to the elevator-
“Senator Keith from District 11, he doesn’t abide a male butt to rest when a woman’s present.” Jung continued to let her voice travel to the concession stand. “Nor for a man to walk through a doorway ahead of a lady, even if she’s half a mile behind him! So why don’t you hike up your balls, get over here, and show some chivalry!”
All this was spoken an octave higher then casual conversation, the frown still burning on Jung’s face. Senator Wilber turned his own face away to conceal the laughter rising up through his chest. So much like Rebecca; loud and indifferent to the ways of the world. Only, by age sixteen, she had mellowed out. Jung obviously hadn’t.
Senator Wilbur didn’t look back until he heard footsteps skidding across the speckled tile. Composing himself, he turned and saw one of the boys- not Trevor- coming up in quick short steps to the bench. Jung’s face alighted at his arrival. “Thank you, Wade. This’ so sweet of you to take the time…”
She was acting like it was Wade’s idea! Senator Wilbur gripped his knee, further squelching his laughter. He thought again about his offer of the elevator… but he didn’t want to diminish the young man’s gesture anymore then it already had been. Course, there was Jung’s ankle to consider. And they needed to let her parents know. She would need someone to pick her up.
“I will try Dr. Lane again.” Senator Wilber announced his role. He rose with Jung as Wade put her weight onto his right side. “We’ll still take the elevator.”
“We’ll be fine-“ Wade began a polite protest.
“We would be honored, Senator Wilbur.” Jung cut him off, her smile back in place through her shifting against Wade. “It’s fortuitous in fact. I’ve not been able to catch you up on the last week, and oh, did you know that Wade’s from your district?”
Senator Wilbur eyed the brown-haired Wade, who looked petrified and embarrassed to be presented this way in front of a politician. The senator looked back at the line of interns, scattering with their purchased snacks. Takes courage to do something that nobody else will.
Senator Wilbur stuck out his hand. “A pleasure, Wade. Where do you reside in my fair population?”
“That town with the unpronounceable name.” Jung answered, moving the three of them forward. Even though she was the one sporting an injury. It affirmed Senator Wilbur’s theory that nothing could slow her down. He hoped that nothing ever would.
~To Be Continued~
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