The Cupel Recruits (2 page)

“Anything to get out of dishes!” Gabriel shouted after her in feigned dismay.

“Yes, Madame Secretary,” Lela waited patiently for the forthcoming instructions. Late-night calls were not uncommon, particularly the night before a major project launch with heavy press coverage.

“Ms. Aquila, is everything set for tomorrow? My admin said she did not receive confirmation from the venue and I’m concerned they may not have the preparations in place.”

“I received a second confirmation from them today. They are aware we need the podium area set up in accordance with the security layout Captain Willingham delivered. Rooftop patrols go in place at 4 am and they will start setting up the aesthetic aspects at 6am,” Lela responded. She had felt more like an event coordinator than a scientist over the past few months, but the energy and healthcare impacts of this project related so closely to her work, she had to be sure it was executed properly.

“Excellent. I’ll see you in the morning.” and with that, Madame was gone.

“Yup, goodbye! Have a good evening! Glad this will help your candidate get reelected,” she said into the dead receiver and shook her head at the abruptness that passed for conversation among the politicos. Like most people, she had never really liked politicians, but recognized the need for them. Up close, she had been able to witness the mixed motives of most of them, but was stunned to discover she found among them a man of vision, conviction and inspiration in the current Governor. Though his staff wasn’t much different than any other, he stood out as an example in the state, galvanized people in tough times, helped the poor - everything a good leader is supposed to do. Governor Buck J. Jacob was rumored to be a Presidential nominee in the next election.

Lela returned to the kitchen to find it completely clean: all dishes in the dishwasher, large pots in the drying rack, everything else already washed and dried, neatly away, with a glisten of freshly-wiped counters reflecting the light from the street lamps outside through the long kitchen window. It smelled of bleach. Mom’s kitchen, she thought to herself. The piano in the distant corner of the house bellowed forth some boisterous ragtime, beckoning her to join in the fun. Turning the corner into the music room, she was surprised to see that it was Gretchen at the bench and not her mother. ‘Wow, she’s really good’, Lela thought to herself. She decided not to interrupt with talk of the lab visit until later-everyone looked too peaceful. Gabriel and Mr. Aquila sat in chairs on either side of a Victorian end table holding a tiffany-style lamp, sipping their coffees, while Mrs. Aquila sat on the red velvet chaise, head back, eyes closed, legs crossed at the ankle, tapping her top foot in gentle rhythm to the music. The house was filled with so much positive energy that it seemed to glow and spread the energy outward to the world in an effort to uplift humanity. Lela and Gabriel’s childhood home experienced the same doldrums of suburban life, teen angst, occasional financial strife as any normal American home, but it always seemed to shine more brightly than most. As Lela listened to the closing chorus, she couldn’t help but appreciate the momentary respite from her own hectic life. Had she known what was to come, she would have appreciated the moment even more than she did.

Gabriel awoke early, before the alarm went off, and watched Gretchen sleeping peacefully for a casual time before jumping out of bed. She had squinched herself into a semi-ball and was holding tightly to the sheets in a fist below her cheek, as if afraid they would leave her. Though she looked very glamorous with make-up, Gabriel liked her without it, since he could see the sheer smattering of freckles across her nose, which were not normally visible. He also liked her hair completely messy-the more sticking up the better. Since he had guarded himself so long against this level of closeness, these intimate details were still new to him and carried with them a sense of privilege for being the man who gets to be with her.

Somehow feeling him watching her, Gretchen slowly opened her eyes to see him just a few inches from her face and a wide smile lingered across her teeth while she coyly rubbed her eyes. Reaching out to smooth out his hair, she spoke softly so as not to awake the very walls of the house, or Caleb.

“Gabriel Aquila up before necessary? I haven’t seen that since Christmas.”

“I had that weird light lake dream again. Besides, it feels a little like Christmas today,” Gabriel replied, “We’ve worked on this project so long that to have the big unveiling is exciting.” He reached over and scooped her close to him, holding on with a reassuring amount of pressure. Gretchen thought to herself how that was the move that always made her feel safe, like everything would be all right, when there were days when life was sure to be difficult, days unlike today. “Don’t get me wrong,” he continued,” scientifically there are some interesting aspects to it, and I think based on some new findings that there may be even more, but it’s not the slickest thing I’ve ever worked on. But, to see Lela so happy, and all the political people and that actor that’s onboard the project, it’s definitely higher profile than I’m used to and I think that’s fun. Ya know, the team dynamics.” He wasn’t sure if she understood, but she did. “Plus, to feel like we’re really going to do some good for once.”

“Is that why you reopened your old lab at your parent’s house, to get more time in?” she asked.

“Partially,” he responded,” since it’s so close to work, I can just swing by before or after, or during lunch. Also, to get away from prying eyes,” he confided. Gretchen looked at him seriously, but could not pursue any details that moment.

“Mom, I hear you guys. Can I come in?” a small voice somehow managed to bellow from the hallway. Gretchen breathed the last peaceful sigh of a mother who had too few moments of tranquility, like most mothers, and rose to put on her robe. Gabriel sprawled out to take up the space she’d left on the bed, including using all the pillows at once with his own sigh, but his was one of deep satisfaction. He loved the family feeling that was in this house now, a stark contrast to the clinical feel of it before Gretchen and Caleb moved in.

“You, bet, Cay-Cay” Gabriel answered. Caleb ran in and jumped on the bed with the full speed and force available to his 7-year-old body,” Good morning!” he shouted, hugging them both.

“Good morning, Caleb,” Gretchen responded, breathing in the baby-shampoo smell of her son’s hair wistfully. ‘The only thing about him that’s still a baby’ she thought silently. He was already dressed in his karate uniform, though his belt test was not until 3:30 that day

“Are you planning on wearing that to school?” she asked playfully.

“Yep! I’m gonna warm it up so it’s all ready,” he replied optimistically.

“I still wish we could come to the kickoff event,” she said as an aside to Gabriel.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, mirroring her playful tone, as he picked Caleb up and wrestled him while tickling, “and make this guy wait 6 months until the next test?” Caleb giggled and wriggled, pushing with all his might on Gabriel’s chest, but could not get away. “Well, you better go eat your oatmeal if you want to be strong for your test today,” Gabriel relinquished.

“Yeah! I’m gonna be the strongest!” Caleb shouted backward while running out of the room at full speed.

“I’m glad we decided to move the houses together last month rather than wait for the wedding. I know it’s a short time, but I wouldn’t have wanted to wait anymore,” Gabriel said to Gretchen, grabbing her hand as they walked toward the kitchen.

“Me neither,” she echoed, “Oh, and remind me about that paperwork this weekend.” Flipping on the small kitchen television, hoping to catch the weather, the top story of the day centered on the project launch. TV crews were already onsite, showing the setup of the podium and seating areas that Lela had assured Madame Secretary would begin at 6am. It had. The television crews showed only the same still shot over and over of the new command center atop Moss’s hill. The event was planned so that the kickoff festivities, tents, and speeches would all occur in the flat land at the base of the hill, with the new command center shining in the distance. Then the science teams would caravan up the hill, ceremoniously cut the ribbon across the front door, and allow the media and outsiders the very first glimpse of the new facility. A bit dramatic for the tastes of most of the science team, but the usual PR hype with which the rest were accustomed.

When Lela arrived on the scene at 6:30, a surprising amount had already been done. ‘Not too complicated to set up some chairs, I guess’ she thought to herself. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the soldiers flanking the small valley area on the rooftops of the surrounding buildings. From a security perspective, it was a good location. Behind the podium was the hill, and the entrance to the small valley area was controllable with a degree of ease. The winding path up the hill to the new facility followed the curve of the mountain and was the only real open access point. Since the security team had the new facility locked down, there was no real risk there either. Unless someone cared enough to come by air up the side of the mountain, and this project was nowhere near big enough to generate that kind of interest, Madame and Captain Willingham should be satisfied. ‘Speak of the Devil’ Lela thought.

“Ms. Aquila, may I see the checklist?” Madame “greeted”. Lela wordlessly handed her the clipboard. “The buses aren’t here yet, why are they checked off?” Madame asked sharply. As Lela began to reply, Madame continued, “Luxury buses 1-4 are for the core team, seating in order of importance of course, and the standard buses after that are for the media, the friends with money we’ve invited and any other leachlings still lying about.” Lela saw Madame take a breath and launched in:

“Yes, Madame, the buses are in fact here. Captain Willingham asked that we line them in order down Flag Street so they would not interfere with visibility for his teams in any way.”

“Fine, just have them pull around right when the Governor finishes his speech so we can keep things moving. Events like this are all about momentum,” she said in an instructional tone.

“Yes, Madame Secretary,” Lela replied, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically weary. Lela spotted her father standing in a small circle of colleagues near the rear of the seating area. “Please excuse me, I’m going to check on the science team,” Lela fished for an out.

“Fine,” Madame retorted and thrust the clipboard back at Lela. Walking across the field, Lela surveyed the area once more to be sure everything appeared in order. A sole man sat in a chair in the middle of the seating area, scribbling notes furiously into an expensive leather folio. In a suit and tie, he removed his suit jacket and laid it neatly on the chair next to him. Lela’s keen sense of observation noticed the top of a tattoo peeking above his starched collar below the bottom of his perfectly manicured haircut. He appeared an academic, but something in his manner seemed familiar. ‘Probably a plant by Captain Willingham’ she mused to herself. ‘I’ve probably met the guy before. Either that or he’s just the most eager beaver in the village.’ Reaching her father and his circle of colleagues, Lela noticed they were discussing the wall of exhibits prepared by the PR team.

“Lela, they did an excellent job with these exhibits, very accurate with the topography and mineral compositions,” Mr. Aquila complimented.

“Madame’s work, Dad,” Lela smiled.

“Oh, Madame knows technical requirements now, does she?” Mr. Aquila asked, knowing Lela was the one who had to provide all the detail to make the documents accurate, “Her formatting idea maybe,” he conceded that small element to highlight the fact that the real work was done by his daughter. “Lela, this is Enam Bamidele, my esteemed colleague and good friend.”

“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Bamidele-after so much email correspondence I am happy to finally meet you in person,” she smiled at the tall man, immediately admiring the sincere and pleasant aura about him.

“Actually, Miss Lela, we have met before, when your father and I worked together in Mexico, but you may not remember, being only three at the time.” He pulled out a stack of pictures from his shirt pocket he was kind enough to bring for Lela to see pictures of the mysterious “life in Mexico” period she’d heard so little about. Taking the photos by the edges, Lela thoughtfully examined the young, 2-dimensional versions of her parents. In the last, she was eating an ice cream cone at her mother’s knee while her parents laughed heartily with Enam Bamidele over some now-forgotten amusement; Gabriel hung from a tree in the background. She held the photos out to return to Enam Bamidele but he waived his hands in protest.

“No, no, Miss Lela, I brought those for you.” She thanked him as her mother rejoined the group after a brief absence. Lela glanced at her mother, who looked briefly at the rooftops, then at the seated man with the leather folio, then to Lela. She gave Lela a fake smile and Lela looked at her questioningly, to which her mother’s look replied ‘later’. One beauty of family was the ability to communicate nonverbally. With no pockets or briefcase, Lela carefully clipped the photos under the large stack of papers on her clipboard.

As 9 am approached, the tents and seating area filled up quickly and the small valley was alive with conversation. Non-VIP media was held back to a point 200 feet beyond the event area bordered by barricades while media with a VIP pass could access beyond that point. In the distance, farther back from the base of the hill, the array of TV trucks and media vehicles were all corralled into one region so as not to be disruptive to the participants and guests. It took an hour and fifteen minutes to get through the introductions, presentment of the science team, presentment of the political team and presentment of the African stakeholders whose goal was to convey the difference this project would make in the everyday lives of the people in their country. Madame Secretary shot Lela a dissatisfied look, since the Governor’s speech was to begin one hour into the event, promptly at 10am. ‘How am I supposed to control exactly how long each of these people speaks?’ Lela thought to herself. She’d given them each their time limit. Beyond that, what was she supposed to do, go tackle them off the stage if they ran over? ‘Madame probably would have preferred that’ Lela thought. Glancing next to her brother as the sentiments of project importance continued, Gabriel gave her an unobtrusive wink from his chair in the science row to the left of the podium. Though he was facing the entire audience, it was so quick as to be almost imperceptible so Lela doubted anyone noticed.

Next Madame Secretary took the podium to share her own thoughts on the project, smoothly veiling her real purpose of simply introducing the Governor.

“The importance of this project to both the region and to the corporate sponsors cannot be minimized, “ she said with all the sugary sweetness of a salesman trying to seal a deal, “ and, I would like to add that this project is of such personal importance to me,” Madame breathed deeply and blinked back “tears”, “that I will forever be indebted, with unending gratitude,” she paused for effect and her voice shook slightly, “to all those that have worked so hard to make this a reality. To the science and political teams, to the real heroes, who have invested in the project by generously allocating their corporate sponsorship to help the world. I’d also like to acknowledge especially Mr. Jack Reedson who took time from filming his latest film, Thermopyle, to join us!” Madame Secretary shouted unnecessarily into the microphone. The crowd applauded, a large contingent in the rear of the seating area boisterously cheering. ‘Probably the ones who came just to see him’ Lela thought cynically.

Jack Reedson rose halfway from his chair to Madame’s left, giving a perfunctory wave and wry smile. He was the least hammy actor Lela had ever seen and his sincerity in motive was evident during the planning stages of the project. He quietly put forth solid ideas among the scientists, careful to not invoke a “just an actor” rebuff from them. Over the long months, he had won their admiration and confidence with his subtle style. There was only one actor on the stage at that moment and it wasn’t Jack Reedson. When the crowd died down, Madame continued beaming and piling on the praise for various other project participants of value to her. ‘Where’s my shovel?’ Lela thought. Of course, no mention was made of Lela specifically. From Madame’s perspective, she’d been included when she had acknowledged “the science team”.

“And finally, I’d like to acknowledge our most important visionary toward the success of this project, Governor Buck J. Jacob!” Madame clapped a slightly uplifted, exaggerated clap to encourage the crowd to applaud, which was unnecessary. The entire crowd, not just the rear contingent, was quickly on its feet and applauding at a deafening level that rivaled an NFL stadium. The beloved leader smiled and waved gently in a feeble attempt to quiet them. Behind him, his wife, Jillian, and four-year-old daughter, Phoebe, sat smiling, dressed conservatively in navy blue. Phoebe’s legs swung from the chair adorned with white patent leather Mary Jane shoes, completing the picturesque political family. The Governor’s unsuccessful concessions to the applauding crowd continued for 3 more minutes before the crowd would be seated, ready to gobble up his wisdom. His speech was no longer than it needed to be, motivational and eloquent. Before Governor Jacob even concluded, the applause began. It built until his last word when the sound erupted into a roaring rampage of clapping.