Being There (5 page)

Chance remembered seeing the President on a recent television program. In the sunshine of a cloudless day, a military parade had been in progress. The President stood on a raised platform, surrounded by military men in uniforms covered with glittering medals, and by civilians in dark glasses. Below, in the open field, never-ending columns of soldiers marched, their faces riveted upon their leader, who waved his hand. The President's eyes were veiled with distant thought.
He watched the thousands in their ranks, who were reduced by the TV screen to mere mounds of lifeless leaves swept forward by a driving wind. Suddenly, down from the skies, jets swooped in tight, faultless formations. The military observers and the civilians on the reviewing stand barely had time to raise their heads when, like bolts of lightning, the planes streaked past the President, hurling down thunderous booms. The President's head once more pervaded the screen. He gazed up at the disappearing planes; a fleeting smile softened his face.

“It's good to see you, Mr. President,” Rand said, rising from his chair to greet a man of medium height who entered the room smiling. “How thoughtful of you to come all this way to look in on a dying man.”

The President embraced him and led him to a chair. “Nonsense, Benjamin. Do sit down, now, and let me see you.” The President seated himself on a sofa and turned to Chance.

“Mr. President,” Rand said, “I want to introduce my dear friend, Mr. Chauncey Gardiner. Mr. Gardiner—the President of the United States of America.” Rand sank into a chair, while the President extended his hand, a wide smile on his face. Remembering that
during his TV press conferences, the President always looked straight at the viewers, Chance stared directly into the President's eyes.

“I'm delighted to meet you, Mr. Gardiner,” the President said, leaning back on a sofa. “I've heard so much about you.”

Chance wondered how the President could have heard anything about him. “Please do sit down, Mr. Gardiner,” the President said. “Together, let's reprimand our friend Benjamin for the way he shuts himself up at home. Ben …” he leaned toward the old man—“this country needs you, and I, as your Chief Executive, haven't authorized you to retire.”

“I am ready for oblivion, Mr. President,” said Rand mildly, “and, what's more, I'm not complaining; the world parts with Rand, and Rand parts with the world: a fair trade, don't you agree? Security, tranquillity, a well-deserved rest: all the aims I have pursued will soon be realized.”

“Now be serious, Ben!” The President waved his hand. “I have known you to be a philosopher, but above all you're a strong, active businessman! Let's talk about life!” He paused to light a cigarette. “What's this I hear about your not addressing the meeting of the Financial Institute today?”

“I can't, Mr. President,” said Rand. “Doctor's orders. And what's more,” he added, “I obey pain.”

“Well … yes … after all, it's just another meeting. And even if you're not there in person, you'll be there in spirit. The Institute remains your creation; your life's stamp is on all its proceedings.”

The men began a long conversation. Chance understood almost nothing of what they were saying, even though they often looked in his direction, as if to invite his participation. Chance thought that they purposely spoke in another language for reasons of secrecy, when suddenly the President addressed him: “And you, Mr. Gardiner? What do you think about the bad season on The Street?”

Chance shrank. He felt that the roots of his thoughts had been suddenly yanked out of their wet earth and thrust, tangled, into the unfriendly air. He stared at the carpet. Finally, he spoke: “In a garden,” he said, “growth has its season. There are spring and summer, but there are also fall and winter. And then spring and summer again. As long as the roots are not severed, all is well and all will be well.” He raised his eyes. Rand was looking at him, nodding. The President seemed quite pleased.

“I must admit, Mr. Gardiner,” the President said, “that what you've just said is one of the most refreshing and optimistic statements I've heard in a very, very long time.” He rose and stood erect, with his back to the fireplace. “Many of us forget that
nature and society are one! Yes, though we have tried to cut ourselves off from nature, we are still part of it. Like nature, our economic system remains, in the long run, stable and rational, and that's why we must not fear to be at its mercy.” The President hesitated for a moment, then turned to Rand. “We welcome the inevitable seasons of nature, yet we are upset by the seasons of our economy! How foolish of us!” He smiled at Chance. “I envy Mr. Gardiner his good solid sense. This is just what we lack on Capitol Hill.” The President glanced at his watch, then lifted a hand to prevent Rand from rising. “No, no, Ben—you rest. I do hope to see you again soon. When you're feeling better, you and EE must come to visit us in Washington. And you, Mr. Gardiner … You will also honor me and my family with a visit, won't you? We'll all look forward to that!” He embraced Rand, shook hands swiftly with Chance, and strode out the door.

Rand hastily retrieved his glass of water, gulped down another pill, and slumped in his chair. “He is a decent fellow, the President, isn't he?” he asked Chance.

“Yes,” said Chance, “though he looks taller on television.”

“Oh, he certainly does!” Rand exclaimed. “But remember that he is a political being, who diplomatically waters with kindness every plant on his way,
no matter what he really thinks. I do like him! By the way, Chauncey, did you agree with my position on credit and tight money as I presented it to the President?”

“I'm not sure I understood it. That's why I kept quiet.”

“You said a lot, my dear Chauncey, quite a lot, and it is what you said and how you said it that pleased the President so much. He hears my sort of analysis from everyone, but, yours, unfortunately … seldom if ever at all.”

The phone rang. Rand answered it and then informed Chance that the President and the Secret Service men had departed and that the nurse was waiting with an injection. He embraced Chance and excused himself. Chance went upstairs. When he turned the TV on, he saw the presidential motorcade moving along Fifth Avenue. Small crowds gathered on the sidewalks; the President's hand waved from the limousine's window. Chance did not know if he had actually shaken that hand only moments before.

The annual meeting of the Financial Institute opened in an atmosphere of expectation and high tension, following the disclosure that morning of the rise
in national unemployment to an unprecedented level. Administration officials were reluctant to divulge what measures the President would propose to combat further stagnation of the economy. All of the public news media were on the alert.

In his speech the President reassured the public that no drastic governmental measures were forthcoming, even though there had been another sudden decline in productivity. “There was a time for spring,” he said, “and a time for summer; but, unfortunately, as in a garden of the earth, there is also a time for the inevitable chill and storm of autumn and winter.” The President stressed that as long as the seeds of industry remained firmly embedded in the life of the country, the economy was certain to flourish again.

In the short, informal question-and-answer period, the President revealed that he had “conducted multiplelevel consultations” with members of the “Cabinet, House, and Senate, and also with prominent leaders of the business community.” Here he paid tribute to Benjamin Turnbull Rand, chairman of the Institute, absent because of illness; he added that at Mr. Rand's home he had engaged in a most fruitful discussion with Rand and with Mr. Chauncey Gardiner on the beneficial effects of inflation. “Inflation would prune the dead limbs of savings, thus enlivening the vigorous trunk of industry.” It was in the context of
the President's speech that Chance's name first came to the attention of the news media.

In the afternoon Rand's secretary said to Chance: “I have Mr. Tom Courtney of the New York
Times
on the line. Could you talk to him, sir, just for a few minutes? I think he wants to get some facts about you.”

“I'll talk to him,” said Chance.

The secretary put Courtney on. “I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr. Gardiner; I wouldn't have if I hadn't first talked to Mr. Rand.” He paused for effect.

“Mr. Rand is a very sick man,” said Chance.

“Well, yes … Anyway, he mentioned that because of your character and your vision there is a possibility of your joining the board of the First American Financial Corporation. Do you wish to comment on this?”

“No,” said Chance. “Not now.”

Another pause. “Since the New York
Times
is covering the President's speech and his visit to New York, we would like to be as exact as possible. Would you care to comment on the nature of the discussion that took place between you, Mr. Rand, and the President?”

“I enjoyed it very much.”

“Good, sir. And so, it seems, did the President. But Mr. Gardiner,” Courtney went on, with feigned easualness, “we at the
Times
would like very much to update our information on you, if you see what I mean….” He laughed nervously. “To start with, what, for example, is the relationship between your business and that of the First American Financial Corporation?”

“I think you ought to ask Mr. Rand that,” said Chance.

“Yes, of course. But since he is ill, I am taking the liberty of asking you.”

Chance was silent. Courtney waited for an answer.

“I have nothing more to say,” said Chance and hung up.

Courtney leaned back in his chair, frowning. It was getting late. He called his staff, and when they had come in he assumed his old casual manner. “All right, gentlemen. Let's start with the President's visit and speech. I talked to Rand. Chauncey Gardiner, the man mentioned by the President, is a businessman, it seems, a financier, and, according to Rand, a strong candidate for one of the vacant seats on the board of the First American Financial Corporation.” He looked at his staffers, who expected to hear more.

“I also talked to Gardiner. Well …” Courtney paused. “He's very laconic and matter-of-fact. Anyway,
we won't have enough time to round up all the information on Gardiner, so let's play up his prospective affiliation with Rand, his joining the board of the First American Financial, his advice to the President, and so forth.”