The Presence (46 page)

Jeremy seemed uncertain. “I think somebody ought to see you, TJ.”

“I'm okay, really,” TJ said, and feebly raised his arms. “Help me up.”

“You sounded like you were choking,” Catherine said. “I thought you were having a stroke.”

They helped him stand, stripped off his soaking pajamas, remade the bed, helped him into dry clothing. TJ was there but not there, with a calm now that touched and quieted them all. His limbs were limp, without strength, unable to support his weight.

Together Catherine and Jeremy guided him back down, settled him under the covers, and stood hovering above him.

“That must have been some nightmare,” Jeremy said.

“It wasn't a bad dream,” TJ said quietly.

Catherine sat on the edge of the bed, took his hand, asked, “Can you tell us about it?”

He stared at her a long time, his face aglow with an unearthly calm. He turned and bathed Jeremy with the same light, said, “My two very best friends. Not a day goes by that I don't thank God for the two of you.”

Catherine stroked his forehead, asked again, “What was it, honey?”

TJ was silent a long time before saying, “You know what is written on the tomb of Martin Luther King, Jr.?”

“I don't see what—”

“Free at last,” TJ murmured. “Free at last. Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last.”

Tuesday morning TJ sat down behind his desk, basking in his sense of calm. The morning prayer meeting had been wonderful. He knew no other word for it. The President had been back, seated again with his wife, both carrying Bibles and smiling good mornings to the crowd that stood respectfully for them.

The message this morning had been on love, and the prayer had asked the Lord to join them together in the presence of His divine love. Once again a sense of glorious peace had descended upon TJ, accompanied by a love so strong that he had been forced to stop in mid-sentence. He had prayed that all had felt it, that all had sensed the power.

Nak stood by the doorway to his office, watching him quietly. “Is there anything I need to be doing?”

TJ shook his head, felt the renewed impact of last night's dream, tried to think of something to say. It all seemed so unimportant now. “I suppose we have more requests from the media?”

He nodded. “Amy Lou's typing up the list now.”

“Why don't you call Tom Nees, ask if he'd like some more publicity. If he says yes, tell them all to meet us down there at five o'clock this afternoon.”

“All right.” Nak stayed where he was. “That was really wonderful this morning, Mr. Case. I mean it. I felt …”

“I understand,” TJ nodded. “Thank you, Nak. I'm glad it had meaning for you.”

Linda stuck her head in the door, said, “Sir, I have the President's secretary on the phone. President Nichols would like to see you right away.”

TJ sighed, stood, said quietly, “It has been a great pleasure working with you three. I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”

He walked up to Nak, who put out his hand, said, “Whatever happens, sir, I just want you to know that I wouldn't have missed this for the world.”

“Me neither,” Linda agreed.

“I'll second that,” Amy Lou said, moving up beside Linda.

“You people will never know how much your support has meant to me,” TJ replied, realizing they thought he was saying these things because the President was going to fire him. He decided to let it rest. “Nak, I want you to work with Bella and take over the prayer sessions.”

The normally impassive face showed instant alarm. “Me?”

“Yes, you. For as long as you are here. I spoke with Bella this morning, she's willing to continue coordinating things.”

The young man nodded. “All right, sir.”

“Good.” He forced a smile. “Don't look so sad, you people. You have got to keep in mind that I was sent up here with a mission. The important thing is not how long I stay, but that the Lord's work is done.”

“We'll miss you,” Amy Lou said quietly.

“May the good Lord bless you and keep you all your days, all of you.” He patted Nak on the shoulder, smiled at the girls, and left.

The President's secretary was waiting for him at the guard's desk. She was an immensely professional woman, who held herself very erect and showed perfect poise as she greeted him. A simple yet elegant gray wool dress with a single strand of pearls and carefully styled gray hair carried out her aura of authority and warmth.

“It certainly is pleasant, having a little sunshine after all this rain, don't you think?” She treated him as if he were a visiting dignitary about to receive a presidential award. TJ found himself responding in kind.

She showed him into the small lobby just off the Press Pool, said, “I wonder if you would mind waiting just a few minutes. When I came downstairs the President had just taken a phone call.”

“Not at all.”

“I know he very much wants to speak with you. I'm sure he'll only be a moment.” She smiled and left him.

As soon as she had left the room, TJ felt the Spirit come. He smiled, first because the Presence was an enormous comfort coming at such a moment, and second because there was not to be one single opportunity lost.

TJ sat down in one of the wing-back chairs, felt the calm and the power and the love spread throughout his being, found he could not stop smiling. These moments had truly been the most
complete
of his entire life. He lacked nothing, he wanted for nothing, he needed nothing more.

“Mr. Case?” The secretary stood in the doorway, smiling down at him. “The President will see you now.”

It surprised him a little that there was no further buildup, no incredible surge of power, as had happened the last time. The Holy Spirit filled him with a gentle calm, a peace that surpassed all understanding. The love he had known that morning during prayer was back, and as TJ walked down the hall behind the President's secretary, he found himself feeling as though they were somehow connected. He nodded to the guard standing duty outside the President's door, and again sensed a bonding, a union that was there in the presence of the Lord.

The secretary opened the door, said, “Mr. President, Mr. Case is here to see you.”

“Show him in.”

TJ walked into the Oval Office, saw the President bent over his elaborately carved desk, busily signing papers. “Be right with you, Mr. Case. Make yourself comfortable over there by the fire.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.” Again he wondered at the absence of the forceful power as before. He was anticipating another confrontation, another stern warning. Yet there was nothing but this deep, abiding sense of divine love.

President Nichols stood up, walked around his desk, said, “You're not going to blast into me again this morning, are you?”

TJ stood to shake the President's hand. “It doesn't look that way, sir.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I speak as the Spirit tells me to speak,” TJ said, feeling as though his heart, his entire being was reaching out in love.

“So when you came barging in here the other day, it was God who was telling you what to say?” The President did not seem to find the concept absurd.

“Yessir. Giving me the words, and filling me with such a power that I thought my chest was going to explode.”

“Well, if somebody had tried to tell me about this last week I'd have laughed them out of the office. I tried to ignore it Friday, and being so angry with you helped. But I'm convinced it's real. I have difficulty believing I'm actually saying it, but I've learned when to trust my gut reaction. And my wife is absolutely sure you're for real, Mr. Case. I suppose you know it was she who brought me to the prayer meeting yesterday. And saved you your job, by the way. I was set to fire you after that barrage on Friday.”

“Yessir, I was expecting it myself.”

“And you still went on and said what you did?”

“Spoke to you, spoke to the television, and to the press.” TJ wished there were some way to describe what he was feeling. His mind was sheltered in unearthly peace, like the waters of a still, deep pool. “Mr. President, I honestly do not feel like anything I have said or done here has been without the Lord's direct guidance.”

The President thought that one over, asked, “What's it like?”

“It is the most beautiful experience,” TJ replied instantly. “And the most natural. Sometimes when it is upon me, I feel as though the whole world could live all the time knowing this peace, if only it would put aside its selfish ways and learn to follow the Lord.”

“Is that the way you feel right now?”

“Yessir, it is.”

“Thought so,” President Nichols said. “I've been feeling that sense of, I don't know, power is probably the best way to describe it, ever since you came into the room.”

“It would be very wrong to ascribe it to me, Mr. President. I am only a human being whom God has reached out and touched. He uses me to reach out and touch others.”

“I understand.” The President leaned forward. “So tell me, Mr. Case, what is it I'm supposed to be doing that I'm not?”

There was a sensation of being consumed within a pillar of light. And from the Presence came the reply which he spoke. “It is time for you to choose, Mr. President. Which direction will you take? If you decide to follow the Lord, then it must be a wholehearted move. You must seek out the Lord's will on all decisions, on all actions. It must take precedence over politics, over the needs of the office, over the needs of your party, and over your future as a politician. It is a total commitment to lead this nation away from darkness. You cannot do it by executive order. You must do it by example. The people of this nation need a leader to whom they can turn for inspiration. They require spiritual as well as political guidance. An example must be set. A direction must be chosen and adhered to. And it can be done only by you, Mr. President. This is your
greatest
challenge. It is your
primary
responsibility as leader of your people.”

The President turned and looked into the fire, silent for a very long time. TJ waited patiently.

Finally he shook his head, said softly, “The mistakes I've made.”

“It is nothing that cannot be undone were you willing to accept Christ as your Savior and Lord and turn your life over to the doing of His will,” TJ replied.

The President did not turn from the fire. “It's as simple as that, is it?” He did not sound convinced.

“The commitment of your life to God is only the first step,” TJ replied. “The learning and the doing and the facing up to challenges will last for the rest of your life.”

President Nichols turned back to TJ, asked in a quiet voice, “So where do I start?”

TJ replied, “Perhaps you might like to join me in prayer.”

Jeremy hesitated before knocking on the open door. “What you doin' in here, TJ?”

“Come on in, Jeremy.” TJ finished folding up the pages, fitted them into the envelope, asked, “Do you have any idea what Catherine's done with the stamps?”

“Ain't they in that little drawer with the extra pens?”

“So they are.” TJ licked and fastened a couple on the corner. “Where's Catherine?”

“She's upstairs. Didn't you hear her call?”

“No, I guess I was a little preoccupied. I wanted to finish this and get it in the mail.” He pressed the envelope closed, asked, “Jem, could I please ask you to do a favor for me?”

“Sure thing, buddy.”

“Could you please walk down and put this in the mailbox? I'm sorry to ask, I know it's late, but this needs to go out first thing tomorrow morning. I'd do it myself, but I honestly don't know if I've got the strength left to make it down there.”

Jeremy was all concern. “You coming down with something, TJ?”

TJ smiled at his friend. “No, I'm just tired, is all.”

“It hasn't been an easy road for you, has it?”

“No,” TJ replied softly. “Not that easy. But it won't be long now.”

“Sounded to me like the man was going to have you stay on a while.”

TJ looked up at his friend, said, “Jem, if there were only some way I could tell you how much your friendship's meant to me.”

Jeremy seemed embarrassed. “Ain't no need for you to say that, TJ.”

“No, there isn't, is there,” TJ agreed. “You've known it all along. I just wish I knew the words to thank you for all you've done.”

“Shoot. I wouldn't have missed this for the world.”

“I don't mean just here in Washington.” TJ's eyes glistened. “You're the best friend a man could ask for, Jem. A true brother in Christ.”

“Now you just stop that before you have us both blubberin',” he said, and stuck out his hand. “Who's the letter to?”

TJ gave it to him, asked, “Do you remember Reverend Harbridge back home at the Church of New Zion?”

“‘Course I do.” Reverend Harbridge had taken Reverend Amos Taylor's place at the church upon his retirement at the age of eighty. Jeremy hefted the letter, said, “You been busy, old son.”

“I had a lot to say,” TJ replied, and stood. “Jem, I want—”

“Now you just hold it right there, TJ,” Jeremy said. “I can't think of anythin' much sillier than two grown men standin' around bawlin', and that's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep on.”

TJ walked around the writing table, came up to his friend, put his arms around the man's shoulders, drew him close. Jeremy hesitated, then awkwardly embraced him back.

When TJ released him, Jeremy wouldn't meet his eye. “I'll just go get my coat,” he said gruffly.

TJ was waiting for him at the front door. He held it open, said quietly, “Thank you, old friend.”