National Holiday
By Leo Kelbs
First Draft
July 3rd, 2009
Even though it was mid-Spring, when Jerry pulled the drape aside, he was greeted by the site of an ice storm. “Oh well,” he thought, “At least today is a holiday and I don’t have to go to the bakery.” Instead, he returned to bed for another hour or so and finally, once his back was sore from sleeping so much, he got up and thought about his day.
It was the national holiday and he had tickets for the annual celebration at the indoor stadium downtown. There were three comedians and several bands, and some stirring political speeches, he supposed, too, but not many. Over the last several years, pride in his country had turned into something more like a comfortable malaise. It was true, that, in general, the population cared about the government and where they lived, etc. But it had more to do with their homes, their families, food. The bigger political stuff, they cared about, but in a more abstract way, so tonight’s holiday event had more to do with entertainment and less to do with anything really serious.
Jerry fingered his tickets. They were nice ones, his brothers, who still worked at the family bakery, had good connections and usually at least one of their wives would want to stay home with the kids and watch the event on television. As it was, Jerry was offered two tickets and was bringing a date. He and Barbara had met at a cooking exhibition two months before and, though they liked each other, sometimes Jerry felt that they kept going because there really wasn’t anyone else for either of them. She was pretty and an enthusiastic lover, so at least he had that going. She liked sweets, so he would always bring her a cupcake or some other special treat from his shop, which was small, but famous, so she was happy enough about that. But today, the bad weather would keep him from the bakery, so when they met up, he would be empty-handed. “I wish I could bring her one of the little cakes with the national colors on it!” He said to himself. But it would be all he could do to get to the stadium on time, let alone across town to his shop. Instead, he listened to another advertisement for the evening’s event.
The recently elected President tried to sound warm and fun with his scratchy, crackly voice as he read the list of bands and then repeated his famous post-campaign slogan, a chant, three times, “I won! I won! I won!” Jerry listlessly did the associated fist pump and thought about the bands. None of which he was particularly interested in anymore.
They were always the oldest, most established bands. Everyone knew every word to every song and, in this way, the bands’ old songs had supplanted the national anthem, which no one ever really knew the words too, anyway. The whole evening would, in essence, bring all who attended together. At least for a while.
When Jerry left his apartment, the storm had abated, but traffic was amassing. One problem in exchange for another. The sidewalks were still icy and what would have been about a 40-minute walk was looking rather impossible. The show was to begin at 7 p.m. and it was already 6.10.
Horns were honking and every taxi was filled with passengers trying to get to the event. A woman in a fur jacket was cursing her husband, who was helping raise her from the sidewalk onto which she had slipped. Jerry wondered about her pointy, high-heeled shoes. But, he supposed, no one had planned for such awful weather, so she could be forgiven. Besides, they looked like official types and the fact that they didn’t have a ride to the celebration seemed an unplanned for pity. Jerry had given up his car recently to help pay or his new business. Besides, it would make little difference if he had it anyway, as traffic was blocked in the intersections. Accidents were being cleared every few blocks and horns honked as desperation at the prospects of being late for the event began to mount.
There were still remnants of new president’s celebratory “I won!” posters pasted to the sides of buildings and Jerry smiled as he walked past. The president was so little, almost cute in his grotesque smallness. His efforts to look normal and fun fit in with the rumors of his slightly wacky and capricious nature. No one knew much about him and no one had expected him to win. An odd insider who had been working for years in the darker corners. If anyone would have actually cared much who ran their country, they would likely have looked a little deeper into how this character had won the election. But, as he had pointed out, he had won. No one cared how. And this would be his first big speech. It as supposed to be 10 minutes long, between the second and third bands.
It was already seven when Jerry reached the far side of the parking lot. Cars waited in a long row to get in, some even pulled out. If he didn’t have Barbara waiting he would have turned around, too. His brothers and his father would be attending as well and that gave him pause. He hadn’t seen or talked with his father since he left the family business to start his own a year ago and wasn’t sure of the old man’s feelings. After months of silence, the realities of running his own business toke the fore and he forgot about his father as a living thing. Only as an abstract character from his relatively happy past.
Still, it would be nice to see his family again; he had been away from them for so long. His brother who offered the tickets certainly hadn’t given a hint of any rifts, so Jerry hoped for the best. Likely, everything was fine.
The lobby area was massive and well-appointed. Still new, it unveiled for a National Holiday just a few years ago. What a party that was! Free food and liquor!
Jerry went to the designated spot and found Barbara talking to another fellow. “Oh Jerry! You’re so late, I was getting worried about you!”
“It’s the ice, what can I say. Traffic is ridiculous. The sidewalks are too. I saw a government lady fall down out there. Crazy weather we’re having. I wanted to brinbg a sweet, but I wasn’t able to get to the shop! I’m sorry about that.”
Then, “Hi, I’m Randy. I’m the new CFO for your family’s business. I’ve heard a lot about you!”
“Oh, I’m fine. I hope you didn’t hear anything too terrible.”
“Oh no.” Then the new CFO took his leave with a little kiss to Barbara and a firm handshake for Jerry.
People milled about as Jerry and Barbara made their way upstairs and into the slightly more upscale section of the balcony. The place was still only half full, the event would be delayed, Jerry realized. Or else the ice might keep people away. Whenever the weather gave an excuse, people seemed to stay home in droves.
“It’s this row, in the middle,” Jerry said, taking Barbara’s hand to help her along. She pulled it away.
“I can do it, Jerry,” she said, “You don’t have to help me.”
“Excuse me,” Jerry said to a couple of fellows seated along the way to the seats.
“Oh it’s you.” Jerry looked down to see his father. “I thought I might see you here tonight.”
“Oh, hi Dad! It’s good to see you!” Jerry replied happily.
“I wish I could say the same!” his father replied while his oldest brother sat silently next to the old man and stared straight ahead. The energy was not good.
“Is everything okay? I’ve missed you these past months,” Jerry went on.
“Is everything okay?” Father replied, mimicking his stray son. Then he smacked his lips and sighed.
“Well, it’s too bad. I didn’t want to make any trouble with any of you. It was just…Well, it doesn’t look so full; I think we’ll just sit somewhere else.”
Father nodded and looked away. “Come on, Barbara,” he said and again, held out his hand.
“I’m going to sit here, Jerry,” she said. “You go on.” And she took her jacket off and sat next to Jerry’s father.
“That was awful,” Jerry thought to himself, “but I can’t let it stop my life. I’ll find a seat and make the best of it. It’s not like it changes anything.” And he made his way down several rows, to a seat where he would be visible, but not too close to his just now estranged family. He wondered why the others had invited him at all.
It was also possible that someone else would come to claim his new seat, which was quite a good one. Better than those of his family. More people were arriving and finding their seats, the show would begin soon. Jerry decided to have a look around the mezzanine, maybe get a beer or something to calm him down after the unsettling affairs between his family and Barbara. But whatever disappointment sank close to the deadness that he felt in his heart for the whole situation. He couldn’t please anyone, barely himself, so these new developments only deepened and better defined his malaise. After tomorrow, he could go back to his own business and loose himself again in work.
In the lobby, people milled about, looking at souvenirs and waiting for food. There seemed something abuzz near one of the nearby gates, but Jerry was lost in thought about his family and Barbara—a combination of anger and loneliness swirled between his heart and mind.
Just then, the people nearby went to attention and from a doorway leading into the deeper bowels of the stadium, the new President appeared. He has alone, no security detail, and much smaller than he appeared on television. He put his hands into the air. “Greetings citizens!” he said. “All together, ‘I won! I won! I won! I won!..” He went on pumping his two fists into the air with great vehemence, the people joining him reluctantly. They weren’t used to this kind of display of fervor.
“That wasn’t good enough!” the tiny leader shouted. “Not by half!” The crowd wasn’t prepared for this. No one thought they would see the President in person. They were here, after all, for the show, the music.
“Everyone kneel! I am the President. Kneel now and do the oath.” Some near to him sank down first, others followed, Jerry amongst the last. He really didn’t feel like participating in this exercise. Especially not in this moment.
“Now, let’s start!” The President said. “And I want you too do it with feeling! Watch me.” And he began the oath that no one completely knew, except him. He punctuated his words with his fingers and his little gray hair began flopping around and his little pink lips were wet from his aggressive pronunciations. A sense of uncertainty and fear filled the area as the group wondered whether it mattered if they followed the new President’s instructions or not. Plus, since no one actually knew the oath and everyone was mumbling and pointing along with their new unknown leader.
Jerry was the most listless in this exercise and thought about getting up and leaving. Others apparently thought so too, looking at each other nervously for support and guidance. But no one dared.
When the oath was finished, but all were still on their knees, the President looked at them and said, “No. No, that wasn’t good enough! Stay on your knees! And you,” he pointed to a man near him who had tried the hardest. “He will be shot because of this. Right on the field before the show begins!”
By this time, a few official had arrived at the scene, along with a befuddled security detail. “But I tried to do a good job,” the man protested, “I did better than everyone else!”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s for the good of the country!” No one moved, except the President. “He will be killed and if anyone has a problem with that, you can let me know and I will have you killed, as well.” By now the President was coming closer to Jerry who looked around at the people near him. The President’s little smile from the posters had returned.
Still no one was sure if the man would actually be shot. No one made a move for him. “You have been getting sloppy and now we will get this country back on track,” the President told the bewildered crowd who were slowly standing up. “I will straighten you all out. What do you think?” he asked woman next to Jerry. She tried to smile.
“I think…”
With this, a rage rose up in Jerry and he grabbed the little President by the throat, then shoved him to the floor. “How dare you!” the President said; yet still, no one moved, except Jerry, who now picked the little old man up by the feet, swung him over his head and smashed him onto the cement floor. Several times. Until he was obviously beyond dead.
“You can’t do that,” one of the officials said after the fact. “That’s the President!”
“He was going to kill that guy. That guy’s life is clearly worth more than his,” he said, pointing to the President’s bleeding corpse. “Obviously.” Jerry was weirdly calm. Then the crowd began to move, realizing what had happened.
Then Jerry realized that no matter what, he was in terrible trouble. Still, no one knew who he was. If he could get out, pick up some things, maybe he could get away somehow.
“Sir, you should come with us,” a friendly-looking official said to him. “You didn’t do the wrong thing necessarily, but you should come with us and maybe we can get this sorted out. Maybe there’s a place for you somehow…”
The fellow seemed harmless enough, yet other security people were now looming and Jerry made the quick decision to try to get away from all of them, get home and get out of town, if possible.
The crowd was such, as was Jerry’s level of adrenaline; that mixing in wasn’t impossible. Plus, the officials and security seemed less than motivated. When the friendly offical turned to address the issue of the corpse, Jerry fled. The security team watched him go, without taking chase.
In the main mezzanine, where he had met Barbara just 30 minutes before, people who knew what had happened were exiting while the others sat, oblivious, in their seats waiting for the big show to begin. He had a good chance to make it home.
He was close to the doors when he heard his name, “Hey Jerry! Jerry wait!” He turned to see one of his customers from the bakery. “This is Jerry, he killed the President! I know him. I shop at his bakery all the time. This guy is going to be a rock star!”
“I have to go. I don’t want to be a rock star. I’m just going to go. Please don’t say anything else about me, okay? We’re friends, right? I need to get out of here. You know, don’t say anything.”
“Jerry, what you did was heroic!” The man’s friends gathered closer. “The President was going to kill this helpless guy for not reciting the whatever it is. And Jerry killed that little fucker instead! Fucking genius. He saved our country! He’s a hero! A fucking rock star!”
Jerry turned towards the door, but it was too late. Different people were pointing and others were spreading the story around. When he tried to exit, the customer blocked him. “Hey wait, Jerry! Come on, you can’t go. You’re a rock star, man! Look at all these people, they fucking love you!”
Soon enough, a crowd had gathered around Jerry. And no one ever saw him or heard from him again.
