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Authors: Frank L. Williams

After the Republic

BOOK: After the Republic
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www.AftertheRepublicBooks.com

 

 

 

Frank L. Williams

 

 

Copyright © 2015 Frank L. Williams

All rights reserved.

ISBN:
1508543232

ISBN-13:
978-1508543237

 

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

 

With sincere and heartfelt gratitude for those who helped pave the way for After the Republic:

God, who endowed me with a creative mind and a knack for the written word.

My parents, Ike and the late Martha Williams, who expected me to be a good student from day one and who instilled in me a love for America and an appreciation for our freedoms.

The teachers at Cape Fear Baptist Church Christian School, Lincoln Primary School, Leland Middle School and North Brunswick High School.

Jenny Rebecca Keech, whose writing rekindled and inspired my own. 

Rob Riffel, Scott Stone, Jeff Harvell and Rebecca Anthony, who read initial drafts of After the Republic and helped refine it.

The late Jackie Iler.  Jackie had agreed to be the editor for After the Republic.  Sadly, she passed away while I was still writing.  This book would have been even better with her keen insight.  Jackie is missed by all who knew her.

Jay Vics of JVI Mobile Marketing, who designed the After the Republic cover, logo and social media graphics.

Mary Fonvielle, my editor.  Her insights have made this a better book, and I look forward to working with her on future projects.

Nancy Brice, my proofreader. 

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PART I

 

 

Chapter 1

 

The cold winter breeze whisked across Joshua’s face as the old pickup rumbled down the narrow dirt road to the pasture. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as the tall pines on either side gently swayed in the wind. Rebecca would think it was too chilly to have the windows down, but he found the cold winter air refreshing. Reagan, a beagle-bulldog mix puppy, didn’t seem to agree and nuzzled under Joshua’s right arm. Emblazoned with black, white and tan splotches and built like a bulldog, the two-month-old pup had already taken to Joshua and Rebecca. Joshua smiled as he scratched the shivering puppy behind the ears.

Life was simpler – and Joshua’s blood pressure lower – since he had decided not to run for a fourth term in the state legislature last year. It was time to give someone else a chance to serve, and he was happy to return to a quieter life on the small Chatham County farm he and Rebecca had purchased a few years earlier. Finding a buyer for the hardware store in his hometown meant one less thing to worry about. He smiled. They could
finally
take time to slow down and enjoy life together.

The energetic, attention-craving puppy seemed determined to trip Joshua, whining and pawing at his jeans as he lugged the bale of hay and bucket of ground feed to the hungry cows. “Calm down, boy!”

As the sun began setting over the tree line the 1989 Chevy Silverado rumbled back to the white plantation-style house, which was situated in an expansive yard adorned by several century-old oak and pecan trees. The billowing white clouds featured brilliant streaks of red and orange. Old Glory snapped proudly in the brisk wind.

It was peaceful here -- a totally different world than the busy, fast-paced political environment in which Joshua had lived and worked for two decades. He looked forward to spending time relaxing in those rocking chairs on the full-length front porch, which was accented by thick white columns.

A dark blue Ram pickup met them in the driveway. Joshua looked at his watch.
Is it that late already?
While the peaceful scenery on the farm had been good for Joshua’s stress level, tonight was a night that had tended to
increase
his blood pressure in recent years: the president’s annual State of the Union address. Joshua watched each year, even when he was not a fan of the person delivering the speech. But this year was different. Tonight, President Alan Wagner would deliver his first State of the Union address.
We’ve finally taken our country back!

“We’re a little early.” Joshua’s best friend and longtime fishing buddy, Perry Edwards, climbed down out of the truck, followed by his wife, Caroline, and their children, Charlie and Allie. Perry towered over everyone else in the group, standing nearly a foot taller than his wife and six inches taller than Joshua. Perry and Caroline were not as interested in politics as Joshua, but they did pay attention to the news and had made the trip to the farm to watch the President’s speech the past couple of years.

“Glad you could make it!” Joshua shook Perry’s hand. “How are ya?”

“If I was doing any better I couldn’t stand it!” Perry said.

Reagan growled at Perry and Caroline but wasn’t fazed by the children, who were closer to his own size. “Meet my new guard dog, Reagan,” Joshua said with a laugh. “He thinks he already weighs a hundred pounds.”

Reagan steered clear of Perry and Caroline as they entered the house, positioning himself across the warmly lit room from them. The living area was expansive but cozy and a small fire sparkled in the fireplace.

“I get the impression he doesn’t like strangers?” Caroline pointed at Reagan.

“He hasn’t met many new people.” Rebecca’s shoulder-length brown hair barely touched the collar of her grey sweatshirt. She wore faded jeans and white socks. “It won’t be long before you two aren’t strangers to him.” She hugged Caroline and motioned in the direction of Charlie and Allie, who were anxiously trying to befriend Reagan. “They sure are growing up fast!”

“Too fast!” Caroline beamed. “It’s hard to believe they’re eleven and eight. Pretty scary! But they’re the center of my world.”

“I can understand that.” Rebecca looked down. “You have a beautiful family.”

Joshua sensed a solemn tone in Rebecca’s voice. He knew she had always wanted children, and seeing Charlie and Allie was a constant reminder that they had none.
If only we’d met a few years earlier.

“I like that outfit.” Rebecca gestured toward Caroline.

“Thank you!” Caroline smiled broadly. She was attired in a bright red skirt accented by a matching red purse, shoes and a ribbon perched atop her auburn hair.

Aren’t you a bit overdressed?
Joshua thought.

“So, how do you think President Wagner will do in his first State of the Union?” Perry kicked off his sneakers and claimed a spot on the dark blue love seat. Caroline sat beside him, stroking his wavy brown hair.

“He’ll do fine,” Joshua said. “He can’t be any worse than the last guy.”

“Amen,” Perry agreed. “Don’t even
mention
his name.”

“I wasn’t planning to. We’ve got to have realistic expectations for President Wagner. We can get America back on the right path, but it’s not going to happen overnight. The country is in a hole.”

“No doubt about that.”

Reagan growled as another pair of headlights flashed into the driveway. The doorbell rang and Joshua introduced the newest arrival. “Perry and Caroline, this is Drew Thompson. Drew and I met while I was in the legislature. He works for the Speaker.”

“Good evening.” Drew sported a pair of neatly pressed khakis, white long-sleeve dress shirt and red sweater vest.
Works for the Speaker
was an understatement. Drew had served as deputy chief of staff for the Speaker of the N.C. House of Representatives for the past two years, making him one of the most powerful political operatives in North Carolina at the ripe old age of 31. Joshua knew he had led a challenging life. Both parents were killed in a car wreck when he was in eighth grade. He lived with his aunt through high school, and she passed away during his freshman year in college. Drew had been married a short time but his wife left him, complaining that he was always at work. He was not Rebecca’s favorite person, but she reluctantly agreed when Joshua asked if they could invite him to holiday meals and other family events since, apart from the people he worked with, he was alone in the world.

Drew staked himself out in one of two brown leather recliners. “Joshua, how’s private life treating you? You can’t tell me you don’t miss the political game.” He pointed at a decades-old picture of a young Joshua and his late parents at a political function. “It’s in your blood.”

“It
is
in my blood, but that disease is curable.” Joshua glanced at the wedding picture on the wall. It hung opposite a picture of him and Rebecca sitting atop a bale of hay. “I’m enjoying my time here on the farm with my wife. It’s good to slow down and get away from the rat race.”

Joshua pursed his lips as Rebecca chuckled, perhaps louder than she realized. He offered a silent glance in her direction.
She
knew politics was still in his blood, even though the process often frustrated him. Sometimes he enjoyed it too much for his own good.

“I, for one, am
glad
he didn’t run again.” Rebecca ran her hand across Joshua’s neatly trimmed black hair, which was dotted with a few specks of gray, and gently slapped him on the back of the head. “It’s good to have him
home
.”

And this truly is home
, Joshua thought. It has been said that opposites attract, and in many ways that was the case with Joshua and Rebecca. He was an extrovert, she was an introvert. He enjoyed meeting people and learning what was on their minds, while she preferred a quiet, home-centered life. He enjoyed the many public events required of someone in public life, but she preferred to avoid them. He enjoyed the machinations of the political process, which often turned her off. While Rebecca didn’t always appreciate the political process, she had always supported Joshua in his public service and agreed with him on the most important issues. For that, he was grateful.

“If good people like Joshua don’t get involved and stay involved, who will run things?” Drew asked. His phone rang before anyone could respond.

Joshua’s mind wandered to the events of the past eight years. The national debt had skyrocketed to unprecedented levels. The government had become increasingly involved in areas he felt should be left to the free market. The country’s military strength had been gutted. America had lost credibility and respect on the world stage. The nation’s lack of clear foreign policy had emboldened its enemies and rattled its allies. Terrorist groups like ISIS had demonstrated renewed boldness and vigor. The previous president circumvented Congress with hundreds of executive orders, some of which were overturned by the Supreme Court. Waves of illegal immigrants had poured over the southern border in 2014. Any public mention of God, faith, or family values was increasingly frowned upon. More and more people relied on the government for their day-to-day sustenance and well-being. Private property rights were increasingly infringed upon by the government at all levels.

“What’s on your mind?” Rebecca derailed his runaway train of thought.

“Sorry.” Joshua looked up. “Was just thinking back on everything that’s happened over the past eight years. We’ve got a heck of a mess to clean up. I’ve got faith in Wagner, but where does he start?”

“Again, that’s why we need people like
you
back in the game.” Drew reclaimed his seat. “One man can’t do it alone.” He gestured toward the television. “President Wagner has done a good job of filling his cabinet.”

“Mostly,” Joshua responded. “But he blew it with Homeland Security.”

“Who did he appoint?” Perry asked.

“Nelson Armando from New York,” Joshua answered.

Perry took a sip of sweet tea. “Never heard of him.”

Drew jumped in and filled in the blanks. “Nelson Armando spent a year as Secretary of Public Safety for New York State. He has raised money and campaigned for numerous Republican candidates, including President Wagner. He also served as mayor of a town in New York.”


Joshua
, why don’t
you
like him?” Perry asked, appearing perturbed by Drew’s interruption.

“He doesn’t have the experience, principles or temperament for the job. His main qualification seems to be that he was a major fundraiser for the president’s campaign. I expected better judgment from Wagner.”

“My perspective is that the political dynamic
alway
s plays a role.” Drew pushed his wire-frame glasses against his slightly pudgy face. “You have to consider the aspect that Wagner needed New York to win the election, and Armando helped him win it. Alan Wagner is the first Republican presidential candidate to carry New York since Ronald Reagan in 1984.”

“It didn’t take Armando long to find himself neck-deep in a scandal over privacy rights and surveillance techniques after he was appointed in New York,” Joshua said. “I would think that undermines any credibility he gained from his
very
brief time in that job. It also bothers me that his appointment there happened under a liberal governor – one whose views were markedly different than those Wagner espoused on the campaign trail. And he’s taken some positions that are very much anti-Second Amendment, including that stupid ‘turn in your guns’ campaign. I’m
more
than a bit uneasy about what he
really
believes.”

“Forgive my ignorance,” Perry interjected. “What does the Second Amendment cover?”

“The right to keep and bear arms.” Joshua cocked a brow and thought,
I can’t believe you don’t KNOW that!

“Aah, okay. I don’t keep up with this stuff like you guys do. I definitely support gun rights and know that’s important for people running for Congress, but is it a big deal for a position like this?”

“Absolutely,” Joshua answered. “It’s an essential foundation of our freedom.”

“I can see that,” Perry said.

“Homeland Security is
not
a policy-making position.” Drew’s prematurely bald forehead glistened beneath the classic traditional lighting fixture. “His beliefs on
political
issues shouldn’t matter for a position that is
not
engaged in policy-making.”

“I beg to differ.” Joshua clenched his teeth, already irritated by Drew. “It
very
much matters what the Secretary of Homeland Security believes about freedom, our Constitution and the rights of American citizens. Besides that, homeland security is too important to be left to someone whose only real qualification is political organizing.”

“Don’t forget that he served as a mayor.”

Joshua let out an exasperated sigh. “Of an
extremely
small town. One so small that comparing his brief tenure as mayor to serving as Secretary of Homeland Security for the United States is not even
close
to comparing apples to apples. He’s
not
qualified.”

BOOK: After the Republic
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