The Return of Elliott Eastman (25 page)

BOOK: The Return of Elliott Eastman
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Elliott coughed and a moment’s dizziness claimed him. He was immensely tired and began to wonder if he could finish the speech. Clutching the edges of the podium he steadied himself. He spoke so softly that some in the back rows leaned forward to hear him.

“I love this country. America is a grand experiment, but the American dream is a simple one. Each of us wants freedom to work and earn enough to bring food home to our families, a roof over our heads and maybe a little time off to enjoy the fruits of our labor with our loved ones. It doesn’t seem like too much to ask, but the dream is imperiled and if we stay the current course in a few short years the American dream, our dreams, will be dashed forever.”

Falling silent Elliott let these words sink in. Again a wave of dizziness assailed him and he clutched the sides of the rostrum. As he did so, the 3 x 5 cards he was using slid onto the floor. He didn’t trust his legs or the vertigo he was experiencing to allow him to reach down and collect the cards. He risked falling from the stage, but in a moment of foresight he remembered he’d tucked the rough draft of the speech in his coat pocket. Pulling the folded pages from his pocket he quickly opened them. Only then did he realize he’d written several different conclusions to the speech and failed to indicate which one was the final draft. He simply began with the last one on the second page. The entire switch from note cards to pages had only taken a few seconds. Those gathered didn’t realize anything was amiss. Elliott could only hope he wasn’t about to repeat himself.

“This is a very thoughtful and compassionate piece of legislation. I see this bill as tantamount to a second Declaration of Independence. It strikes a blow for freedom from massive and impoverishing debt. It provides us with an opportunity today that may not be available to us a few years from now. You can hear the millions of people outside these hallowed halls. The people have spoken. I urge you to remove these earmarks and allow the President to sign this marvelous bill into law. In so doing you will change the course of our nation and leave your legacy as the authors of one of the greatest pieces of legislation the world has ever seen. History is watching. This is your moment. Do what your moral duty requires of you. Remove these earmarks, and America once again will be a land of limitless horizons. Generations for years to come will sing your praises.”

Elliott took a sip of water and then continued in a very solemn tone.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I will close with one last simple truth. Please listen to me. Must the lives of most Americans be an unceasing struggle from birth to death? The answer is no. Now the answer lies in your hands. The American people who courageously created this country are powerless in the face of the moneyed interests except when, by virtue of their vote, they are represented by the honest, just and compassionate people cloistered here in this room. They rely on you. They have placed their faith in you. You are their hope. You are their prayers. Remove these onerous earmarks and you change the course of this nation. I urge you to do what you know in your hearts is the right thing to do. Thank you very much.”

Elliott turned and made his way slowly and painfully between the raised daises which seated the President, Vice President, members of the cabinet and their wives to the curtains at the rear of the stage. They stood to clap as he passed. Several of the reporters began to clap as well. Other people stood and the ovation gained strength. The chamber reverberated as the standing ovation crashed over it. News cameras panned across the room and found many a woman and man as well, brushing tears from their eyes.

But Elliott heard none of it. Once the curtain closed behind him the cane slipped from his hand and he collapsed to the floor.

Stephanie, seated in rapt attention in front of her big screen, stood and applauded as well. But as she watched him walk slowly and woodenly from the stage, tears welled in her eyes. She noted how his coat hung from his shoulders. Something was wrong. “Oh Elliott, my beautiful Elliott what has happened to you?”

She knew there was something more than the results of a few years of aging going on with her former lover. She yearned to be by his side, to hold his face in her hands and kiss him. Then her anger grew. “You promised to call me when you were going to be in the Capitol and you didn’t!”

Throwing on her coat she dashed out the door and a few minutes later she was winding her way through heavy traffic towards the Capitol Mall. It took two hours of searching and finally a call to Capital Security to find that Elliott had taken Air Force One back to Colorado shortly after his speech. She booked a flight for the following morning and went back to her condo to pack and get a few hours sleep.

Chapter Sixty-One

 

The faint drone of airplane engines brought Elliott back from the edge of darkness. He was lying in a double bed, but noted the Seal of the President of the United States on the door. He was aboard Air Force One again. Glancing at a port window he saw it was dark outside. Dr. Yates sat snoring in a well cushioned chair at the foot of the bed. A single light glowed overhead.

He coughed and Yates was instantly awake.

“Elliott, how are you feeling?”

“I’m not sure, a little groggy and really quite thirsty.”

“Let me get you a glass of water.”

“Sure, thanks Doc.”

Elliott failed to tell the good doctor that his side ached terribly and both his knees hurt while there was also a singular pain in his chest.

The doctor returned with a small glass of water. Elliott finished it in three hefty gulps.

“Would you like another?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

Doctor Yates returned with another glass which Elliott drank down.

“One more for the road?”

“No. Not right now. By the way, where are we?”

“You don’t know?”

“Not really.”

“We’re probably over southern Indiana on board Air Force One headed back to Colorado which, I might add, you adamantly insisted on once you’d been brought around after your fall.”

“I fell?”

“Yes, and your cane hit you square in the chest on the way down.”

“That’s why my chest hurts.”

“You came around and insisted on leaving for Colorado immediately.”

“I don’t remember any of it.”

“I think it was dehydration, the medication and the strain of the speech.”

“That’s right, the speech. It came off okay?”

“Okay? The President said to tell you it was one of the most moving speeches he’d ever heard.”

“That’s good.”

“Good? You should hear some of the news pundits. I recorded several of them.”

Yates hit the power button on the flat screen TV built into the wall and said, “Let me take the intravenous tube out of your arm while you check out the news. I inserted it to ease the dehydration.”

MSNBC showed an announcer running through the numbers. “It appears that immediately after the speech over two hundred members of Congress withdrew their earmarks. When news of Mr. Eastman’s collapse after the speech and the filming of the event by a newswoman who just happened to be backstage reached the news wires, another one hundred and seventy five congressmen and woman withdrew their earmarks. We’ll be airing the speech again in its entirety on the morning program, but at this time we’ll show the events that transpired backstage once more.”

The screen went black and then it showed Elliott stumbling from the stage, clutching a curtain as he released his cane and for a brief instant managing to hold himself up. The cane stood on end as one of the security guards attempted to catch the former senator. The guard missed with his lunge and Elliott plunged face first catching the cane in the center of his chest, and then fell heavily to the floor. Women screamed and people rushed towards him.

The screen went black and the announcer appeared again.

“The latest information we have is that Mr. Eastman is headed home and said to be recovering from his fall quite satisfactorily.”

Dr. Yates muted the television. “So there you have it; the grand exit.”

Elliott groaned. “I can’t believe that was shown on national television.”

“I can’t believe you don’t have cracked ribs,” Yates responded.

“There is a significant degree of pain near my sternum,” admitted Elliott.

Doctor Yates said in low ones. “I took the liberty of probing about while you were out and I believe you are still in one piece. I also took the liberty of doing a few blood tests when you were out. I have some more bad news. It seems all I do is give you bad news, but I don’t think the bone marrow transplant is taking the way we had hoped. The t-cells are not multiplying as they should.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that we’re losing the fight. The bone marrow was going to buy us some time and slow the pace of degeneration of your overall health and the bone cancer. It’s not like it wasn’t worth it, it’s just that the antigen it was supposed to support is not going to get the level of help we estimated.”

“English Doc.”

“You’re going to deteriorate much faster from here on out.”

“Which means?”

“You’re weakness will grow worse. Your incontinence will get worse. Pain will increase. You may experience some respiratory distress.”

“Meaning?”

“Your lungs may develop fluid in them making it harder to breath.”

“Go on.”

“There may be some organ damage.”

“Meaning?”

“Heart and liver damage. Blood flow will lessen and your liver will not process things as well. In fact, you probably should consider abstaining from alcohol.”

“Paul,” Elliott said, feigning being taken aback by the suggestion. “I’ve got three weeks to live and you’ll deny me my scotch?”

“I’m just saying …”

“Go on.”

“Eventually you’ll lose your clarity of thought. Most of your sight and hearing will blur and muscle control will lessen. You will lose the ability to speak. Then it might be a few days or a week at the most before you lose complete motor control. You won’t be able to stand or eat. Eventually you’ll be placed on a breathing apparatus. That’s about the time we call for the morphine drip. Finally you’ll be in a complete vegetative state, except there will be some brain activity.”

The doctor was sniffling now and struggling to retain his composure.

“And that’s when … that’s when we increase the morphine dose and you slowly go to sleep.”

“Hell Doc, it doesn’t sound that bad. It can’t be a whole lot worse than falling on my cane.”

“Don’t make jokes Elliott. I’ve seen it before and it’s not pretty. It’s not noble. It’s just ugly, sad and ignoble. I’m having a hard time with this. I don’t like seeing you this way.”

The two men sat quietly for a moment pondering what the immediate future held for each of them.

“I’ve got some morphine pills. They aren’t as strong as the drip, but they may help your chest injury,” Doctor Yates said putting a rather large bottle of pills on the nightstand while giving Elliott a knowing look. He stepped back and said, “The speech was very good, Elliott.”

“It would seem to have done the job.”

“That’s right, I almost forgot. The President called about an hour ago to check on you and said he’ll probably sign the bill tomorrow evening. It looks like 410 members of the House have withdrawn their earmarks and 92 of the 100 Senators have withdrawn theirs.”

“That’s good,” Elliott said in a soft and very quiet tone.

“I want you to get some rest. We still have a long road ahead of us. We’ll be landing about three hours from now at about four in the morning and then we have a three hour ride to the ranch.”

“Okay. Thanks Doc.”

They landed in the private area of Colorado Springs Municipal Airport and Elliott walked painfully from the plane towards the Cadillac limousine waiting not far away. Dr. Yates helped Greer carry the bags from the plane to the car. Once they were seated in the limo with Greer in front and both the doctor and Elliott in back, Greer reached back and handed a bundle of newspapers to them saying, “I thought you might enjoy a little light reading.”

As Greer pulled out of the airport Elliott opened the first newspaper, The New York Times. The headlines screamed at the reader; “Smack down on Capitol Hill”. The Washington Post chimed in; “The Speech that Changed a Nation.” The local Denver Post carried the headline, “Mr. Eastman Goes to Washington” and carried the sub-heading; “Straight talk may bring end to era of pork.”

“Hmm,” Elliott mused. “It would seem we raised a ruckus.”

Dr. Yates chuckled. “Here’s your phone. I answered it a couple of times while you were resting and explained to two gentlemen, one Eddie and another Archie that you were okay. Stephanie called to see how you were doing. I explained you were resting and should be fine. By the way, I also checked my Yahoo account when we were on the plane and their lead story asked, ‘Who is Elliott Eastman?’ with a short bio, but I read the thread of comments. Apparently you have over 1000 marriage proposals.”

It was Elliott’s turn to chuckle and then he asked in all seriousness, “They didn’t include my home address in the article did they?”

“No, but it did mention you live in Colorado.”

Elliott sighed.

Doctor Yates yawned and said, “You know, I’m feeling pretty whipped. Would you mind if Greer drops me at my place and then I’ll come out to check on you in a day or two?”

“That’s fine,” Elliott said and passed the word to Greer. “I’m pretty worn too. I feel like I could sleep for days.”

“Sleep would do you some good.”

After dropping the good doctor off at his home they pulled into the ranch compound and Greer said, “I’ll carry your bags in Mr. E. and then I need to repair some fencing over by the buttes. Something punched through the barb wire. Is there anything you need me to help you with?”

“No, I’m going to say hello to Dusty and then lie down for awhile.”

“Why don’t you get some rest and then I’ll burn us a couple of steaks.”

“That sounds nice Greer,” Elliott said.

As he made his way for the barn his cell phone rang. It was the President.

“Elliott here.”

“Elliott, how are you feeling?”

“A little beat up, but better than a few hours ago.”

“Glad to hear it. Well I thought you’d want to know, SB 1190 is signed.”

His elation carried through the phone and Elliott smiled.

“That’s great news,” Elliott said in a tired voice.

“It was your speech that shook them up. I had a gut feeling having someone like you, with your resume, would be able to tip the scales in our favor.”

“That’s very kind of you, but it was a team effort. There were a number of other speakers. I think Tony’s speech was spot on.”

“Agreed. Have you seen the news? It’s all they’re talking about. Even Belosi admitted she had to withdraw her earmarks after your speech. She said she always thought of it as business as usual, but when you illustrated how grossly unfair it was to the American people she had to vote her conscience.”

“So I can imagine who the hold outs were who wouldn’t remove their earmarks.”

“The usual suspects. It was rumored Senator Graham tried to increase his earmarks.”

“We know some folks are never going to change.”

“Anyway, I wanted to pass along the good news. You sound tired so I’ll let you go.”

“Thanks Paul. We’ll talk in the next few days.”

Elliott spoke in low tones to Dusty, gave him a cube of sugar and then made his way to the house where he stripped off his clothes and curled up under the quilt on his bed.

Elliott slept for fourteen hours with Greer checking on him occasionally. Finally he got up around 8:00 pm, ate a few bites and went back to bed.

BOOK: The Return of Elliott Eastman
5.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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