My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

25

We’d been home a few days. I was just too lazy to write anything in my journal. I’d invited Jiggs to stay awhile, but he had ‘pressing’ matters at home to attend to, but didn’t go into detail. I think he just wanted Emmie and me to have a little time together, bless his heart.

There was still a festive air at the institute. Since most of the staff hadn’t been able to attend the wedding at such short notice, Lee had arranged a ‘celebration’ dinner at one of the larger local (and finer) restaurants in town for everyone on the payroll. Most staff were still bringing their ‘doggy’ bags to work with them.

Angie was heating hers in the employee’s lounge and the scent was wafting all the way into my office when I returned to work today, making it difficult for me to concentrate on the ‘rules’ regarding defamation suits. It was doubtful I had a leg to stand on, and I absently turned on the TV for the latest in news, weather, and the various talk shows.

The first channel that I’d turned on was a talk show, live from Washington D.C. 

“….We’ll be right back with this morning’s guest, Ronald Nelson…”

Oh swell, that’s just what I needed.

After a few commercials for dog food, starring, you guessed it, an English Bulldog, so popular now, the talk show resumed.

“Mr. Nelson, is it true about the rumors flying around that Admiral Nelson is thinking of issuing a defamation suit against you, that he wants you to revert back to Ronald Hawthorne?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. I don’t care what the old man thinks, my name is now Nelson and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. Gawd, he’s getting senile in his old age.  He’s already ‘disinherited’ me. What more does he want? I’m his son. Too bad Pops,” he said turning to face the camera head on, “you’re stuck with me. You don’t have to see me, talk to me, even send me a Christmas card. Just go on living in your stupid bubble of self-importance. But when all is said and done, and we’re both in our graves, it’s my genomes that will carry on the Nelson ‘family’ to the next generations.  Not your paper son’s. God, now that’s  a gruesome thought. Can you imagine a half- breed human alien kid? Gross. But then, might come in handy to rent it out for Halloween parties. Melody too, what a troll. And did you see her mother? Yuck, yuck, yuck.”

“Did you attend the wedding?” the host asked.

“Hell, no. Wouldn’t even if I’d been invited, which I wasn’t, glad to say.”

“Aside from the animosity you feel toward the aliens, surely you’d welcome their technology? The regeneration of tissues, organs, even, that they’ve agreed to exchange should the  SALT proposal be approved by congress.”

“They turned it down once, only my brother used his clout to force them to vote again. What a nerd. We don’t want our oceans raped. Just send the damn aliens away. As for their technology, well, we’re not that far behind. We’ll get our own regenerations going any time now.”

“What are your plans now, that public opinion has pretty much swayed in their favor, at least for peaceful cooperation between our two worlds?”

“There are still a lot of people on my side. I've even reformed my Anti-Alien Leauge. You’ll find details online. ”

“And just what will this new organization do differently from the previous one?”

“Well, civil disobedience, not outright attacks like that shooter did. It will try to talk some sense into our elected officials, propose referendums, and new laws to protect Earth from any alien immigration. Limit visitations, etc.”

I punched the intercom, “Angie, find out what you can about Ronald’s Anti-Alien Leauge. He made it sound innocent enough, but…he’s up to something more, I’m sure of it.”

“Right away, sir. By the way CNN is going live shortly to cover the president and First Lady’s return to the White House.”

“Thanks.”

I tuned to CNN as soon as the talk show went to commercial, and tapped my pen impatiently on the desk until the CNN anchor went live….

“....The president and First Lady returned from Camp David early this morning, ahead of schedule, as the business of taking care of the nation and the world itself had priority over their short honeymoon.

One of the reasons, the fact that congress voted no to the second SALT proposal. As you know, Admiral Nelson did extensive theoretical and hands on testing that indicated there would not be any harm done. Still, congress was hesitant to allow something that has never been done before. The president’s informed congress that he will discuss with the aliens if a far lesser amount salt and minerals might change the vote. The spaceship’s captain and Lt. will be arriving soon to discuss the matter.

In other news, we’ve learned that the president’s adopted father Admiral Nelson may be seeking legal action to force his biological son Ronald Nelson to revert his name back to Ronald Hawthorne. Most law firms have stated categorically that there is no provision to force any such action by anyone toward anyone, except in a case of fraud….”

“Sir?” Angie knocked on the door, “the president is on the videophone for you.”

“Thank you, my dear. Turn the TV off, will you, but keep me posted.”

“Lee?” I asked as the image formed of him stroking  Missy lying on the desk in the Oval Office.

“I’m fine, sort of, maybe.”

“I heard about the vote.”

“Aside from that, Harry…you have to stop thinking about a lawsuit against Ronald….”

“Is that an order Mr. President, sir?” I interrupted.

He looked as though he’d been struck.

“I’m sorry, son. I don’t know what got into me…I’m just do damn upset with Ronald. He’s vile, an embarrassment to the Nelson name….”

“You have to be the bigger man in this.”

“Now, where have I heard that before. Doesn’t work, you know.”

“You’ll be a laughing stock if you continue looking for any legal action. Nobody can tell someone else, ‘stop using my name because you’re embarrassing me’. And there’s a bigger problem we have to look at right now.”

“Yes, Ronald’s Anti-Alien Leauge. I’m having Angie check it out.”

“So you think he’s up to something more than he stated, too.”

“I think we both know him well enough to believe so.”

“It’s  just,” Lee hesitated, “he seems to be going about things within the accepted parameters of the law. It’s just now, with the ‘no’ vote I  don’t want any Anti Alien rally to upset Al any more than the no vote is sure to.”

“Perhaps he’ll agree to a lesser amount of water, that you’ll be speaking to him about?”

“We can hope. Well, did you have a good flight back, a nice few days of rest and relaxation?”

“We did indeed, and Lee, thanks for your present to all the staff.”

“The least I could do.”

“Well, Winston is insisting I take him for a walk. And Missy, well, I’d better get Mel to come get her. Can’t allow a cat to rip up important papers.”

“Goodbye, son. Again, I’m sorry I lost it back there.”

“I’ll call again tonight.”

“Great. Looking forward to it,” I replied and he ended the call.

 I had to wonder when he'd started to call the captain Al. I knew Joe referred to Lee's father-in-law as Captain Al, short for Captain Alien, as several staff called him. But just plain 'Al'? I had to wonder what nickname Lee had given the mother-in-law. If he'd tried.

“Admiral?” Angie asked peeking in. “Good, you’re free. I ‘joined’ the league under an assumed name, and so far, the agenda is just what Ronald claimed it to be. No ulterior motive. No call to riot, etc. Just signatures on petitions and the like. And he’s set up a small office in D.C. where members can congregate. All legal and registered.”

“Very well, you keep monitoring.”

“Yes, sir…it’s almost lunch time. I have some Lemon Meringue Pie left from the restaurant, if you and Mrs. Nelson would like it. It’s a huge piece, only weeping a little, after all it’s a few days old, but it’s been in the fridge, and still tastes great. I had two slices at the restaurant, but couldn’t finish the third.…”

“Thank you. I think we’d love to. Call her for me, will you? We’ll take it down to the outcrop and watch the waves for awhile.”

“Yes, sir. Should I have the cafeteria make a few sandwiches for you as well?”

“That will be nice, thank you.”

I think I’ll call the White House and ask Joe to include Lemon Meringue Pie on the menu for tonight’s desserts. I know Lee enjoys it.  After all, he must be getting awfully tired of brownies and ice cream.

But then, perhaps not.

I’ll also make a statement to the press that ‘I will not be requesting Ronald to change his name back, as I’ve been informed I have no right to’.

“I wish you’d gone for it,” Emmie chided me as we munched down our sandwiches and pie, as the waves crashed against the rocks below.

“Me too, but…it was a ‘frivolous’ lawsuit, and we wouldn’t have had a chance getting it to be reviewed by a judge. Besides, I’m only following orders from my commander in chief.”

“Harry, really?”

“No, he didn’t order me not to carry on…but he wants me to be the bigger man.”

“Wise boy. You, know, I’m counting down the days before his term of office ends and he can come home, if only for the fact that you’re happier when he’s around than when he’s not.”

“As long as I have you sweetheart I'm the happiest man in the world.”

“Not quite the same thing,” she said and leaned against me, "you need him too." 

I decided that I’d have Angie start marking my calendar with how many days left till Lee would be free of Washington and make his way home. Only now with his wife, Winston, and Missy.