Final Challenge
Authors: Al Cooper
FINAL CHALLENGE
AL COOPER
I
Every time Harold Freeman glanced around, he crossed with a look that, far from be los
t,
was looking forward to his
. He returned in exchange, without any effort, a smile that seemed to be the prize that the observer was waiting for. Overjoyed, he lived with intensity that time he had so longed and that he thought would never come. He saw himself floating on a cloud surrounded by those who had supported him so much to achieve his g
oal, the dream that had crossed
in recent months the barriers of
illusion to become an obsession
.
He did not recognize many of the faces found in his fleeting visual inspections, as he chatted animatedly with one of the heavyweights of his
political
party. After a while he began to realize that, unconsciously, was looking for the features of a face that only existed in his imagination, and at that time could not avoid to leave the conversation while some few tears cropped up in his eyes as he recalled the old Senator Albert Spencer, who twenty years ago had convinced him to run for s
enator from Tennessee, when his
only goal then was to become a partner in one of the most famous law firms
in Memphis. Albert hadn’
t
been
only his Cicero and godfather in the party, not only taught him to move in a world hitherto unknown to him, but that over the years the friendship and respect led to a stronger and solid relationship that many blood ties between parents and children. He seemed to be watching Albert's frank smile, his face pleased, his chest swelling with pride as, excited, putting his hand on his shoulder. Because his politic son had reached the highest rung, that one that History only reserve for a few. If his battered heart could have resisted a couple of years, surely he'd be there beside him.
Harold had to overcome his emotion, which threatened to make him lose his composure. He found the antidote needed when he laid eyes on Carol, who was chatting animatedly with the wif
e of the last
P
resident
that had had
the Party
. They had
alway
s had
a
complicity close to
magic that bordered almost
in
mysticism, and had not been broken since he met her in the fo
urth
year of college, during their
courtship and
eighteen years of marriage.
So not surprised that Carol, who was back to him, turned her head within a few seconds
, as if she was aware that Harold was watching her, to smile and send him a kiss. She was really there. In fact she always had been. He could not imagine how he would manage to have gone ahead when he was close to throw it all away, when his disenchantment overcame his illusion, if she had not supported him, pointing out the other si
de of hard road. He never had
become governor of Tennessee and, of course, had never
been presented as the
candidate
of his political Party
for president. His options, just in one case as in the other, were minimal, al
most ridiculous, in front to
other candidates who left as favorites. But Ca
rol had made him believe in his
possibilities, in his vast capacity for work, in his empathy to connect with people, in his charisma, in his undeniable southern charm perceived in each of his gestures, in the spell of his smile. What nobody knew was that Carol
was the only one able to draw
the best of himself,
that much of his strength lay i
n her. He looked her carefully up and down, like the first time they met. It was still a gorgeous woman. The years, despite having
carved her soul, had allowed her to
keep her fantastic figure, which added to her talent and charm, accentuated her natural elegance. Yes, definitely Carol was the woman of his life. Intelligent, strong, beautiful, sensitive, stylish. S
he sure knew how to win people.
She really was the ideal companion whom anyone in his position w
ould have liked has by his side
.
Although
they both knew that child would never come. The adoption was a real possibility that seduced both of them, but it would have to wait at least another four years, the time for the new president of the United States gave his political career as terminated after reaching the top.
Lost in thought, Harold returned to his immediate reality when Harry, the vice presidential candidate imposed by the consensus of the party despite his great reluctance, came to tell the ear.
- I think it's time to go up
th
e stage
and satisfy them a bit.
Harold had to make a sublime effort to avoid the first answer that came to his mind. Actually, he always had to struggle to hide his dislike for Harry. In fact he was the only
piece of his puzzle that didn’t
fit. Accustomed to convince through dialogue, had put forward all its weapons to ensure that Harry was not his vice president, but it was all useless. He had to yield to pressure from the rest of the party, who did not seem ready to lend their suppo
rt in exchange for nothing, so
accepting Harry as a candidate for vice president had become a small price he had to pay. It seemed not so insignificant to him every time that he examined him thoroughly. He could not understand what they had seen in that guy. Inveterate drinker, boastful, sneering at the wrong time, with little tact in personal relationships, Harry based his appeal on his impressive physique, and it always had seemed little baggage to Harold. The more effort he put in trying to find some virtues in him, the more flaws he found. One of Harold's credentials to the electorate was his honesty, his impeccable career, so he came to think that his vice president would be a fraud for hi
s voters, who knew of Harry little more than his
wid
e and studied smile. So, again, he
had to suppress his initial impulse to respond.
- Okay,
go there.
Then he stared at him.
His half lost glance
and his red pupils denoted that, once again, had ingested more alcohol than his body could tolerate. So he insisted:
- And remember: you will have ample occasion to intervene. But this time, you should keep out.
Harry took him a look closer to the hatred than the approval
, drank half a glass in one gulp and replied looking down
- Okay, okay. You're the boss.
Harold winked to Carol from away, came to her, kissed her and she grabbed his arm. As they approached the stage, the noise became deafening. Applause
s
, cheers, whistles and shouts mingled in equal parts. The festive show became more latent. Confetti, balloons in the air and,
especially, the orchestra. The
Manhattan orchestra that Thomas, a great friend of Harold since they had entered the party almost at the same time, had insisted on hiring was being a real success. A jazz band with traditional charm,
with the genuine taste that
time was demanding. Once on stage, Harold waved his arms and he demanded by signs the presence of all members of his campaign team. They were caught by hands forming a chain, going a few steps back and then running again to the podium, like children. They raised their arms and then made a gesture of reverence to the attendees
. It shot the adrenaline so when Harold tried to talk
, only the closest one
s
could hear him. There was no dou
bt that that
kind of small and improvised gestures allowed
that Harold reached
even more to people. Smiling tried by a gesture to ask please let him to begin his speech. After a long time the decibel level dropped enough to allow him directing his first words as president-elect of the United States.
- Today I learned the true meaning of the word "Thanks".
The ecstatic audience interrupted him again. After taking a sip from a glass of water, pointed his finger to the audience.
- You have made this possible.
Harold stepped down, hugged his wife, and with a little push he urged her to join him. Then he went on.
- And, thanks to my family, thanks to you who have supported me until exhaustion, thanks to the American people that have understood and positively valued our message, starting four years to carry out all our illusions.
Harold was forced to briefly interrupt his speech before the onslaught of the flashes of cameras
. Then he finally continued.
- Four years of illusion and hope not only for ourselves but for everyone, for this great country. Four years of hard work for which I ask the same affection and support. I know you are able to give me it because you have amply demonstrated.
The last words were drowned out by thunderous applause. Harold went down with parsimony from the platform, his glassy eyes turned toward Carol, took her in his arms and kissed her, knowing that only she would help him successfully to complete that pivotal moment in their lives.
II
Nearly four years later, nobody in the party doubted
about
the leadership of Harold. His presidency had been sublime, beyond the statistics and cold but necessary numbers. The economy was going from strength to strength, the growth rate had been the highest in the last twenty years, productivity was surprisingly high and the unemployment rate had fallen more than double the expected. His tact and intelligence on foreign policy had helped to strengthen the international leadership and become a universally respected figure for his own personality more than for the power of his nation. The activity of international terroris
m had dropped to unusual levels
, unknown for many years. The popularity of Carol and Harold had crossed the barriers of the country. They formed an admired couple, a mirror and a reference for those who believed that love, far from void, stimulates and increases the chances of the partners. And they were right. They had their differences, inherent in any human couple, but they were a team, always ended by finding ways to add their contributions. And this, related with two people with abundant resources and great capacity for sacrifice, had results more than positive, which not only translated into a well for the couple, but for all that was in their hands, it was not little.