The Willard (15 page)

Tom was mulling this latest discovery over in his mind when he heard a familiar voice calling to him from the doorway. He turned to find Ethan York standing there.

“Are they ready for me?” he asked the young man.

“Not yet, sir. I asked to be assigned to you for the day so I’ll be in charge of getting you from place to place. I thought that way it would be easy if you want to tell me anything,” he said with a knowing look.

“Listen, son, I appreciate that you’re scared and I’d like to tell you there’s nothing to worry about, but you strike me as a smart guy so you’ve probably figured out there’s plenty to worry about. The problem is, if this thing goes down you won’t have time to get to South Carolina and it wouldn’t matter if you did because it will disappear just like Washington,” Tom said matter-of-factly.

Ethan had a look of terror on his face and Tom knew he had gone too far. He tried to do damage control. It wasn’t going to do anyone any good to have this kid lose it in the West Wing. Who knew how many others were right on the verge themselves? It could set off a mass panic.

“What I meant to say, Ethan, is that anything that might happen will likely happen fast. On the other hand, as nice as South Carolina is, it’s not a strategic location like Washington so it probably wouldn’t be a major target. Even so, getting there could take a while and I can’t tell you whether or not you should head that way because I’m not sure it would matter where you
are. Anyway, this may all blow over instead of blowing up.” His attempt at lightheartedness went nowhere.

Ethan sat down in the chair next to Tom, a clear violation of intern protocol, but he wasn’t thinking about those things.

“Mr. Kelly, I appreciate what you’re telling me and I do understand. We had those nuclear drills when I was in high school and it always seemed stupid to me to get under a desk and expect that to protect me from a hydrogen bomb. I always figured it made the grown-ups feel like they were doing something when there really wasn’t anything they could do. I knew that then and I know it now.” His thoughts seemed to drift away for a moment.

“I guess I just hate the thought of not being with my family. Dying here or dying there, both options are pretty terrible. I just don’t want my mother to worry about me. And I don’t want her to be alone.”

“How old are you, Ethan?”

“I’m eighteen. I graduated from high school in May. Top of my class at Fort Mill High,” he said with pride. “It’s just a little place, hardly a dot on the map but it’s right beside Charlotte, North Carolina so sometimes I tell people that’s where I’m from because they know where that is. But it doesn’t feel right to say that because it feels like I’m not proud of where I’m from and I love South Carolina. Especially the beaches. Have you been to the beaches in South Carolina, Mr. Kelly?”

“Ironically, it was a beach in
North
Carolina that brought me here today but I haven’t had the pleasure of your South Carolina beaches. I’m sure they’re much nicer,” he said with a smile.

“I like to think they are, especially down around Charleston. I like to go there with my mom. We both like history and when we go to Charleston she says they’re still fighting the war down there,” Ethan said.

“You’re very close to your mom it seems.”

“I am. I’m close to my dad, too. He’s a really good guy, but he has more in common with my brother so they do a lot of stuff together. They like to play golf and football and I like to do nerd stuff like read books and talk to grown-ups. I guess I’m a grown-up now too, but I don’t feel like one. Anyway, my mom heard me say once that I thought it would be cool to come to Washington and work at the Capitol or the White House. She never forgot it and decided it would help me get into the best college so she’s been working for two years to get me this chance. They usually take kids who are already in college, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was right, too. Just showing I was going to be an intern here helped me get into the University of Virginia. I kind of wanted to go to Clemson back home but she told me the University of Virginia is the school of Thomas Jefferson and I should aim high. So I’ll be going to Charlottesville in January.”

“You’re a good kid, Ethan. You’re doing what your mom wants you to do,” Tom said with what he hoped didn’t betray a hint of sarcasm as he thought about how disappointed his own mother would be by his life choices.

“No, I’m really doing what I want to do, except maybe the Clemson part. I never thought I could be the best at anything, but she told me I could and she helped me along the way. I’m kind of awkward and shy, not exactly class president, you know? She was always telling me I was as good as everyone else. I didn’t believe it, but I decided to work at it and it paid off. It turned out I was a lot smarter than I thought. I owe her a lot. She’s really proud that I’m here doing this. I think everyone in Fort Mill is sick of hearing her talk about it. She hasn’t stopped since I found out in the summer I had been accepted.”

“Why did you wait until October to start?”

“I had to save up the money to live here for a few months. I share a small apartment on the other side of Capitol
Hill with four other interns. I wanted to be able to pay for it myself so I worked at a grocery store back home,” he answered. “I won’t be here that long but it will be enough to count, Mom says. I just really thought I’d be here longer than a few days.” Tom could see the tears forming in the corners of Ethan’s eyes.

“When’s the last time you spoke to your mom?”

“Ten days ago, when I caught the Greyhound bus in Charlotte. I sent her a letter when I got settled in and I’ve gotten a couple of letters from her. I can’t afford to use the phone for long distance except in an emergency,” he said wistfully.

Tom felt a pang of identification with this boy who wanted so much to make his mother proud and was so afraid of failing. He knew the feeling well.

“You said you’re assigned to me for the day, right Ethan?”

“That’s right, sir,” Ethan answered.

“Then I need you to do something for me. It’s really important.”

Ethan sat up straight in his chair. “What can I do for you, sir?”

Tom held up a brass key. “I need you to go to the Willard Hotel, two blocks east of here. Go to room 1022.”

Ethan was all ears, perked up at the thought of doing something important.

Tom continued, “Keep in mind what’s happening here is highly classified so you can’t give away information or you might scare someone. You have to be upbeat and positive.”

“Yes, sir. Of course,” Ethan reassured him.

“You can handle this for me? You’re sure?”

Ethan nodded his assent.

Tom leaned in closer and pressed the key into Ethan’s hand. Ethan leaned in to hear his assignment from this important man who was here to help the world avoid nuclear annihilation.

“Here’s what you do when you get to my room: pick up the phone and call your mother.”

C
HAPTER 29

CALVIN WALKER

1963

The man who had done all the talking was called Fish. Calvin didn’t catch any other names, but after they had lowered their weapons a heated discussion had broken out among them and it was clear Fish was their leader. They addressed every question and every objection to him. The last thing he heard was Fish’s assurance that if Calvin proved to be full of shit they could draw straws for who would get to off him.

Note to self, avoid the appearance of shit-fullness
.

Calvin found himself seated across the table from Fish as the others were relegated to other work around the apartment.

“Start talkin’,” Fish said.

“My name is Calvin Williams.” The last name was a small lie and he knew the lies were going to get bigger before they were done. He just didn’t want them knowing his real name, as though that would somehow protect him from retribution. “I’m from Tennessee and I came here to find a group who would be willing to do something about this march. I’m tired of the bullshit way these guys are sucking up to the police and the government. They’re selling us out and we might as well be slaves again if we go around shaking hands and asking them to please give us some rights. Some of these march assholes are acting like we’re dogs or something when they go around the white man’s table and beg for the scraps.” He hoped
the brusque language would lend him the necessary street credibility.

Fish wasn’t laughing anymore, but he wasn’t convinced. He circled the table where Calvin sat, building the tension with his silence. Finally he spoke, “You know what I think you are? I think you a cop. I thought you was a professa but now I think you a cop. You talk all fancy and you walk up in here and won’t say how you found us. I suppose you know who we are?”

“I know you’re Kifo. But I’m not a cop and I can prove it.”

“Well, you better prove it cause there’s nothing these boys like better than killin’ cops. And the only people, besides us,” he said as he used his gun to gesture around the apartment at the rest of the group, “who knows about Kifo is cops.”

“I know about it because I’m on the inside with the organizers of the march. That’s how I know who you are and that’s how I have access to Dr. King. I can tell you exactly where he is and what he’s doing. You just tell me what you’re planning and I’ll figure out a way to get him where you need him to be.” Calvin felt sick at his stomach just saying the words. He revered Dr. King and even pretending that he was on the side of these thugs made him sick. He kept reminding himself he just had to find out the plan so the police could take over. He kept talking. “If you want to get attention then you have to make a big splash and you need a big name for that. You want a race war, right?”

“Only way to get what’s ours is to fight for it. Talkin’ never did no good,” Fish said.

Calvin could see he was getting somewhere. “If you take out Dr. King, you’ll get the race war you want. He’s not the only organizer, but he’s the most famous and the most moderate. He’s the main voice for peace. If you take out the one calling for peace you’ll get war.”

Calvin stopped talking because he could see Fish was considering what he had said.

“All right, I won’t kill you tonight. But I still don’t believe you so you gonna have to prove yourself.”

“How?”

“If you so close to King, you be back here at seven o’clock tomorrow morning with proof that you was with him today.”

“What kind of proof?” Calvin asked.

“Well,
Pro-fess-a
, you gonna have to figure that out on your own. And you better get it done cause Tiny here is gonna follow you home so we’ll know right where to find you if you try to pull anything shady.”

Tiny turned out to be anything but. He was a mammoth man with a fierce scowl. Calvin had a feeling Tiny could do unspeakable things to him and not be late for dinner.

After a few more admonishments and reminders of what kinds of horror they would visit on him if he betrayed them, Fish let Calvin leave with Tiny in tow. They started the long walk to the Willard while Calvin tried to figure out a way to explain his new shadow’s presence in the grand hotel. He hoped Edward Chase had some tricks up his sleeve.

C
HAPTER 30

OLIVIA FORDHAM

1913

From the time Abigail Adams had written to her husband, John, during his attendance at the Continental Congress in Philadelphia in 1776 asking him to “remember the ladies,” the role of women in society and in government had been hotly debated. For some it was not a question of if, but when, women would be recognized as fully involved, equal citizens. For others the question was whether or not they were mentally qualified or if the act of political involvement was too rough for their delicate sensibilities. By the time Victoria Webster and Olivia Fordham walked into the NAWSA offices the very idea that women were too delicate to participate fully in society was a notion that was on its way out of popular thinking, although it would take years to completely defeat the idea. Olivia wasn’t sure if the notion was ever truly defeated given some of the chauvinists she had known over the course of her career. Still, there was important work being done and Olivia quickly noticed the zeal with which the women went about their duties. It reminded her of the staffs of some of the causes she worked with. They were true believers with no frame of reference for surrender.

Alice Paul was leading the charge for the organization. She was well known in suffrage circles and her methods tended to be more radical than those of other pioneers of the
movement. She was officially the chairperson of the Congressional Committee whose members had been known to resort to hunger strikes when picket lines didn’t yield the desired results. She was a New Jersey Quaker, twenty-eight years old, and a veteran of the movement in England where she had been imprisoned and later force-fed when she wouldn’t end her hunger strike. Paul was a legend in suffrage circles, eclipsing even the work of such earlier luminaries as Lucretia Mott, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and Susan B. Anthony. Though some states had given women the vote, Paul and her compatriots would not be satisfied until the federal government mandated it from sea to shining sea.

The office was bustling with activity for the march that was just two days away. When Olivia introduced herself to the young girl at the front desk and also gave her Victoria’s name, Alice Paul was summoned at once. Olivia found it strange that they would be so quickly and enthusiastically received, but pushed the thought aside as they were led to a rear office. Her uneasiness was soon answered when Amelia Sutherland joined them as well.

“Miss Webster, I’m so pleased to meet you. Please forgive me for not being at the hotel when you arrived. My assistance was needed here and I’m very glad you’ve made it,” Sutherland said as she turned to Paul. “Alice, this is the young lady Sarah was telling us about.”

Sarah Lanphear was the woman Victoria had met at the Philadelphia rally and who had visited the Webster home encouraging Victoria to get involved. Alice Paul came forward to shake Victoria’s hand. “Yes, of course! Sarah wrote me about you and I’m very happy to meet you. And who is your companion?”