NPR Weekend Edition has an occasional contest called 3-minute fiction. Not fiction you can write in 3 minutes, but can be read that quickly. Basically it's a 600 word story based on a prompt they select. This time was a piece based on a president and I decided to enter. Unfortunately I looked at the September 23 as the deadline and read it as September 28 and did the final edit on the story just a few days late. Since I couldn't submit it there I offer it up here to anyone who has the stomach to face another piece of my fiction. ===================================
The Crowd Gives Bill A Hand
The Secret Service agent blinked and
felt the normal knot in his stomach twist tighter than usual as
President Clinton, held aloft by thousands of willing hands, floated
over the audience smiling and waving. A second agent attempted to
follow the president into the crowd only to have them move aside. He
crashed to the pavement and when he stood up was sporting a bloody
gash on his forehead that would require stitches.
Clinton had been in rare form on this
trip and today his speech roared and soared as he addressed mostly
students assembled outdoors on the Columbia University campus. He
had discussed the economy and foreign policy and was beginning to ad
lib as he ignored his secretary who was pointing at his watch.
“We seek balance.” He looked at
their young faces and wished that it hadn't been so long since he was
still trying to decide if growing a mustache was a wise choice. “You
all look pretty bright to me, I don't need to explain yin and yang.”
He waited for the applause to die down a little. “It's not
opposites, it's not the idea of competition but completion. A
duality that exists as a whole. Market forces and regulation,
military might and compassionate service, freedom and responsibility,
even Democrats and Republicans.” They laughed and before they
could finish he carried on. “Although I think we could use a few
more Democrats down in Washington these days.”
He took the microphone from the
lectern, held it in his hand and started to pace the stage. “You
know, that's what I'm all about, not the Democrat and Republican
thing but analyzing the entire system as we look for what's missing
to complete the picture. When we find it, it's the most logical
thing in the world. Sometimes it's making sure children have health
insurance and sometimes it's the guy who thought to add marshmallows
to rocky road ice cream. It makes us smile not just because it's the
right thing but because it fills a glaring hole in our world.”
As they yelled and applauded Clinton
looked beyond the crowd toward the edge of the campus. It was a
beautiful fall day with a light breeze blowing in over the crowd so
he was catching the smells from them and the city. His sense of
smell had always been exceptional and he'd joked more than once that
if Republicans had smelled as good as Democrats he would have been on
the other side. Today it was cinnamon, sandalwood, sweat, perfume,
pot and fainter smells, probably from Broadway that included asphalt,
curry and hotdogs. Somehow it reminded him of the little places
where he could get a cold beer and inexpensive seafood when he
studied at Georgetown.
“We need to be looking for those
holes that exist for those we serve. On the other hand, we can
admire those places where nothing is missing and we're all working
together, on the same wavelength, like this crowd. I have a lot of
responsibility and you have a lot of freedom and that's a balance we
can share. You can help me today.”
He put the microphone back in the
holder and returned to the edge of the stage where he spread his
arms, pointed toward Broadway and fell toward the crowd. Before the
Secret Service could react he was on his way toward the street
wondering why he smelled so much beer in a 10 AM crowd and wishing
old saxophone players could be in punk rock bands.
