Happy Utopia Day, Joe McCarthy

Chapter 30

I'm happy to have this circus over.

—Senator Joseph McCarthy

Three days ago we dropped off Archie and June at the Hard Rock and said our good-byes. I've finally begun to relax. I didn't see President Wright again, but he went on television, rescinded those crazy executive orders, and did his best to get the government back in order. He also publicly granted me "a month's leave, wherever the hell you are, Thompson." Karen, Scotty, and I plan to take that month and leisurely tour the country on our way home.

Through the Winnebago's sink window I see Karen and Scotty sitting by the fire. We have just finished eating roasted hot dogs, and I'm inside breaking Hershey bars for s'mores.

My cell phone rings. "Hello?"

"Hell of a show, Thompson, hell of a show."

I stand up straight. "It all started with you, Mr. President." "I always had a bad feeling in my stomach about Slater," President Wright says. "This may be my proudest moment, though I'll probably be impeached or have to resign because of it. Having your right-hand man controlling such a sinister program certainly doesn't look good."

"Hopefully the truth will be believed," I say.

"You mean the truth that even though the country's philan- dering president was whacked out on hallucinogens, he still did the right thing in the end?" He sighs. "I think resigning may be my best bet."

"You might be happier."

"That's true, Thompson. I could spend some time with the family. Hell, maybe even have some more kids."

I laugh.

"I cancelled all those crazy executive orders." "I saw."

"Good. Then you're taking your month's leave, I hope?" "All of it," I say.

"Good, good. You know, before I resign, I think I'm going to sponsor some laws limiting the power of the presidency. That'll be a first, huh?"

"Very forefatherly," I say.

"Hopefully we can make it happen before they kick me out of here."

"Yes, sir. Good luck, sir, Mr. President." "Thank you, Thompson. Stay in touch." "Of course, sir."

"Things get hairy, I might need you to testify." Before I can say anything, he hangs up.

I step outside the Winnebago into the cool pine-scented air of Grand Teton National Park and join Scotty and Karen around the campfire. I carry graham crackers, marshmallows, and Hershey bars. "S'mores anyone?"

The sun is setting and the magnificent Grand Tetons cast a shadow over the beautiful deep blue Jackson Lake. Tomorrow we can go hiking or canoeing, or perhaps do nothing at all.

The sun disappears, and the stars shine down on our crack- ling fire.

"Is it fun being a secret agent, Dad?"

I put my arm around Karen. "Intense is a better word."

"I think it'd be fun," Scotty says. "Better than working in a boring office."

Karen kisses my cheek. "Working in an office can be excit- ing, Scott."

Scotty stands up, ducks, and covers. He aims a pretend pis- tol at the trees. "I want to be a secret agent. I want to be like Dad."

Karen and I laugh.

"Do you think you'll be a secret agent again someday, Dad?"

A shooting star arcs across the sky.

I laugh. "Son, sometimes you just don't know."