Read The Invitation-kindle Online
Authors: Michael McKinney
“Well, let me ask you this, and I want to let our affiliates know that we’re going to run over a little, because I think the American people would like to hear this from you. My question to you, Senator Merrick, is this: do you dispute any of the facts that were presented at this morning’s news conference?”
“I don’t dispute the facts, John, but let me say I do dispute the unwarranted inferences that were manufactured from them.”
“Such as?”
“Well, such as the allegation that Ken Myers went to a Chinese hospital for a secret operation. There’s no factual basis for that at all.”
“Well, the CIA director called the evidence of Ken Myers visiting a hospital outside Beijing compelling.”
“I don’t know what evidence he’s talking about. I haven’t seen any evidence to that effect.”
“Finally, let me ask you this, Senator Merrick: do you think that what we saw the last two nights was a hoax, as CIA Director Stuart does?”
“No, no I don’t, John. No one can tell me that what we saw these past few nights could’ve been done by any secret group or government. What about Congressman Kearns? He’s been examined and reexamined for the last two days. Nobody can explain it.”
“And I should tell our viewers that we’re going to try to get Congressman Kearns on this show as soon as possible to tell us about his unusual experience.”
“John?”
“Yes, Senator Merrick, go ahead, Sir.”
“I just want to say, if there ever was a time when this country needs to put politics aside, it’s now. We are in the grip of an enormous national tragedy. What we need is healing and reconciliation.
What we don’t need is the kind of talk that we heard at this morning’s news conference.”
“Senator Merrick, thank you for coming in, Sir.”
“Thank you, John, it’s good to be with you.”
“You bet. We’ve just heard Senator Walter Merrick of Maryland giving his views on the news conference that was held this morning, saying that in his words ‘today is one of the most shameful days in the country’s history.’ So—”
As Kathryn turns off the TV, she asks Rita, “What do they mean they found something on a brain scan? What are they talking about? My son never had an operation done in China. What hospital are they talking about?”
“I don’t know, Kathryn. Don’t worry about it. Please, just try to rest.”
“Rita, would you please open that cabinet drawer over there, and give me the plastic bag that’s inside.”
After receiving the bag, Kathryn opens it, and pulls out the nightgown with the perfectly circular burn mark on it. She remembers that night long ago when she was strangely visited by the probing form of light energy that illuminated her pregnant body, and she recalls the sudden pulse of energy directed into the infant brain of her unborn son, the future President of the United States. Through her grief laden thoughts, Kathryn wonders if this could be related to the brain scan image mentioned on TV.
Rita sees her friend’s expression slowly change.
“What is it, Kathryn? Is something wrong?”
“It makes sense now.”
“What do you mean?”
Kathryn says nothing, and looks at the nightgown as if it’s very physical presence is a revelation. Rita is puzzled.
“Kathryn, are you okay?”
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Is that your nightgown?”
“Yes it is.”
“Is there something about it? You seem to marvel at it.”
“Yes, yes there is, but no one would believe me. We’ll talk about it sometime. I promise. Rita, I’m sure you want to get home.”
“No, Kathryn, I don’t want to go home. I’m staying here with you. As a matter of fact, I’m staying here with you all night, and all day tomorrow. I’m not leaving you alone, Kathryn.”
“Thank you, Rita.”
“I’m going to make you some tea now.”
“Thank you, Rita. Thank you.”
As Rita prepares tea, Kathryn Myers is grappling with the realization that what happened that night many years ago, and what has happened the last few nights in Miami are powerfully connected. What could it possibly mean?
It’s been five days since that terrible night in Miami. A new President has been sworn in, and has spoken to the nation urging calm as people all over the world struggle to understand the events in Miami. Tens of thousands have taken to the streets in nearly every major city around the world demanding that their governments do more to protect the environment. Other political groups with different agendas join in the confusing mix, and use the opportunity to press for their interests. Though reeling with controversy, Washington, D.C. has a solemn duty to perform.
For the last three days the ornate, iconic space of the capitol’s rotunda has been the focus of a nation’s collective sorrow. Here, the slain body of an assassinated President lies in state. Tens of thousands of Americans have walked by his closed casket in silent respect, as a bereaved nation mourns its loss.
All this time Carol Myers has shown the stoic strength and personal dignity characteristic of someone who must perform a solemn public duty. When the doors are finally closed to the public insuring her last private moments with her late husband, she feels completely, and utterly alone. For Carol Myers, the entire world feels as empty as the room she is now standing in. Walking over to the coffin of her dead husband, her grief is heavy, and as she touches the casket a wave of deep sorrow floods her entire being. Bitter tears and unrelenting grief are effusive as pent up emotions are no longer containable. Then, incredibly, Carol clearly hears her name, and is physically startled by the familiar sound of that voice.
“Carol, don’t be afraid.”
“Ken, Ken is that you?” she asks, gasping in disbelief.
“Yes, Carol, it’s me”
“Where are you?”
“I’m here. You can’t see me, but I’m here, Carol.”
“How are you doing this? Is this really happening?”
“Carol, Carol it’s all right. Don’t be afraid. Listen to me, Carol, please. I want to tell you something.”
“How do I know? How do I know it’s you?” she desperately asks, while looking into the empty space of the room expecting to see the form of her husband. But the sound of her husband’s voice seems to have no discernible source.
“Do you remember our conversation in Miami late Saturday night, when we talked for over three hours?” he asks.
“When we were inside the tent,” she replies.
“Yes, when we talked about our first campaign together, we talked about the day we were married, and how your sister was late for the wedding.”
“Yes, yes, I remember.”
“I am your husband, Ken Myers.”
“I believe you. I believe you. Are you coming back?”
“I’m sorry, Carol. I can’t do that.”
“I’m confused, Ken. Why did this happen?”
“It’s all right, Carol. It’s all right. There was no other way. I wish I could have somehow prepared you for what happened, but that would have been impossible.”
“Did you know what was going to happen to you that night?”
“Yes I did.”
“Then why did you let it happen?”
“I had to, Carol.”
“Why? What about us? What about the life we had together?”
“Our happiness, our future together, had to be sacrificed for a greater good.”
“What greater good? I don’t see any good in this at all.”
“The sorrow that you experience today means that a far greater sorrow might be avoided for millions of others.”
“I don’t understand. The country needs you. I need you,” Carol says, still looking into empty space.
“There’s a greater need, Carol. The need to insure that future generations have the same chance to live that we had. The shock of what happened in Miami will help make that possible.”
Unconvinced, Carol shakes her head and sobs. “All I feel is pain, Ken. Just pain. How can that be good for anything?”
“I know it’s painful for you, but there was simply no other way. Things had to happen in the way that they did. I know that’s hard to accept.”
“Does this have anything to do with what your mother told me?”
“Yes it does. It’s something she’s had to live with for so many years. I’m glad she told you. Comfort her please, Carol.”
“You know I will.”
“Thank you.”
“Ken, how did you know this was going to happen?”
“In one sense, I didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“All my life, I’ve somehow known that I would do something very unusual. My life seemed to unfold as it did without effort. Everything was in preparation for what you saw in Miami. It was uncanny. I can see that now, but at the time it seemed I was just living my life.”
“Well, where does that leave me in all this? I guess I’m asking, who have I been married to for these years?”
“You have been married to a man who loves you very much, and always will. Our love is genuine, Carol. Nothing can ever change that.”
Fighting back tears, Carol’s sobbing voice is cracking. “But this does change things, Ken. I’ll never see you again. I wish I were with you.”
“Oh, Carol, we will be together again. A human lifetime is one chapter in a book with many chapters, just as life is an expression of something beyond itself. Our greatest joy is still before us. I want to thank you for the gift and privilege of allowing me to be part of your life. Your love and companionship have been an abiding source of strength and deep personal enrichment. I can never repay you for that. Thank you, Carol.”
“I love you, Ken.”
“And I love you, Carol. That’s forever. Carol, I want to say something to you now that I hope you will seriously consider.”
“What?”
“You are still young, with many years to live. I don’t want you to live those years alone, and so, when you think you’re ready, I want you to allow yourself to be loved again, and I want you to allow yourself to return that love.”
“What?”
“Do you know why you couldn’t conceive?”
“Tell me.”
“It was determined that it would be less painful for you to go through this without children, but you are young. You can still have a family.”
“You mean remarry?”
“I’m just suggesting that you allow yourself to be loved.”
“No, no, I will never remarry, never. I’ll wait. You say we’ll be together again. I’ll wait. I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll wait. I love you, Ken. I couldn’t love anyone else.”
“I love you, Carol. Always. I have to go now, sweetheart. Until we see each other again, I love you, Carol.”
“I love you, Ken. I love you. I’ll wait. I promise. I’ll wait.”
Turning to the flag-draped casket, Carol breaks down in tears, repeating her promise.
“I’ll wait, Ken. I promise. I’ll wait.”
In the weeks, and months that follow, the alleged espionage of Ken Myers is hotly disputed. The implanted microchip that would substantiate the case against him is never found, and both the brain scan, and the video recording of a youthful Ken Myers, taken while he was in college remain unexplained. Though continued assertions of an elusive Chinese connection sound increasingly specious, rumors of unidentified origin in the U.S. government keep the story alive. Most Americans, however, refuse to believe that Ken Myers would have acted in ways inimical to the nation’s interest. He is well remembered for the three-and-a-half years of what a strong majority of Americans consider an ‘inspiring, and enlightened Presidency’. The energy bill he diligently advocated easily passed, mostly for its intrinsic merit, but also as a gesture of respect for a slain President. People seem to separate the inexplicable events in Miami, from what they know and admire about Ken Myers. Already loved by millions, that bond has only deepened with his passing.
An investigation conducted by the Justice Department, and the FBI concludes that Todd Keniston acted alone in the assassination of the President. When asked whether or not, what all of humanity witnessed for two consecutive nights in Miami was a hoax or not, the government’s position is that it has no position on that question, and all investigations are continuing.
Though the government is reticent in commenting on what happened, most Americans, along with countless millions around the world, are fully convinced that what they saw for two consecutive nights in Olympic Stadium in Miami, Florida was exactly what it appeared to be, and nothing else. For the countless millions who witnessed those incredible events, they would never look at the night sky in the same way again.
The End
Eleven months after the President was assassinated, Senator Jack Fields is mysteriously killed in a freak hunting accident. His good friend, CIA director Paul Stuart, spoke movingly at his funeral.