The Movement

Chapter Six - Part 9

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President Barber stuffed his hands in his pockets as he paced in circles around his desk, thinking. He paid no attention to his facial expressions. All of his thought was allocated to his meetings. More specifically, the meeting that was to come. Troy sat nearby, outside the jurisdiction of the president’s pacing ring.

“What I don’t understand is why you are stressing so much about Dr. Cole,” said Troy.

“I am not stressed!” fired back President Barber, halting his pace.

He looked away from Troy and continued his pace once again.

“I certainly beg to differ, Mr. President,” opined Troy, crossing his arms in his seat. “Either something has gone completely awry or you are afraid of something going completely awry. In all due respect, sir, this is not your normal behavior.”

President Barber continued his pace as Troy spoke, but instead of focusing his vision on his path, he glared his vexed eyes in Troy’s direction. The president circled the desk twice more before he opened his mouth to reply.

“Mr. Duckworth, I am afraid,” he said before pausing. “I am afraid of what The Movement might come to. This was supposed to be a democratic movement to employ citizens with careers they so rightfully deserved. I know we are doing this for the good of the people of The Movement, but I am afraid this may get very difficult to control.”

“Why would it be difficult to control?” asked Troy. “Every reform we will incorporate into The Movement benefits the people whom support it.”

President Barber finished his last encirclement of his desk before he returned to his seat behind the big oak desk. “Some people just have a change of heart when they feel a government has too much control,” he said.

Troy unfolded his arms, transitioning his left arm into a sitting akimbo stance.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Four thunderous pounds against the heavy doors reverberated through the president’s office. Troy looked over at President Barber as he arose from his chair to answer the door, who was wiping his forehead from perspiration, either from the continuous pacing or his nerves.

Troy hustled over to the door and pulled the right door open with a welcoming arm gesture.

“Thank you, Mr. Duckworth,” rumbled Dr. Cole’s incondite voice.

He donned a black tie with a grey business suit, which stretched around his large girth.

“No, thank you, Dr. Cole,” replied Troy, politely. “It is good to see you again, it’s been a few years, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, I suppose it’s been a minute or two,” he replied jovially.

“That’s right! That’s right, that’s right, that’s right!” shouted President Barber with a smile, standing up from his chair and clapping his hands together. “You two are old friends from university, is that right?”

“It most certainly is, Mr. President,” answered Dr. Cole. “I was fortunate enough to advise Mr. Duckworth during his studies at Princeton. He was a great student of mine, one of the hardest working and most daring, to say the least. Always interested in challenging authority.”

“But not that authority which deserved authority, Dr. Cole,” quipped Troy with a grin.

Dr. Cole beckoned out a loud laugh and took a seat in the chair adjacent to Troy’s without President Barber’s urging. President Barber feigned a smirk and returned to his seat. Troy did the same.