Taft 2012 - Jason Heller [61]
“So what are you going to do?”
“The only thing I can do. I’ve been given a second chance to make the Taft name mean something that Americans can be proud of—something that’s a boon to my family, not a joke—and I think we all know that a third chance is quite unlikely. And time is in short supply. I can count the weeks to the Taft Party convention!”
“You don’t have to tell me about the short supply of time.” Her breathing had settled down into a steady, shallow rustle of the lungs. “Bill, I want you to promise me something.”
“Yes, of course. Anything.”
“Don’t forget.”
“I … I’ll never forget you, Irene.”
“No, not me, you dear man. Don’t forget who you are. Don’t forget where you come from. Where we come from. That America still exists. It’s still here, underneath all this”—she waved her hand—“all this difficulty. Remember what made this a great nation, what made you a great man, in the first place.”
“And what might that be?” asked Taft, a sad smile touching his face.
“Being you. Being yourself. All of us, from 1776 on. Reach into your heart. Do what you have to do, but don’t let them turn you into someone else.” She lightly rattled the tubes and wires that connected her body to the devices that kept her alive. “Don’t let this century eat you up, President William Howard Taft. You eat it.”
With that, she fell asleep. On his way out the door, Taft passed the incoming nurse. He glared at the man sternly, as if to reinforce the importance of the patient he was treating. But the only look he received in return was one of resignation and sympathy.
FROM THE DESK OF REP. RACHEL TAFT (Ind.–OH)
Notes—Wed. 25th
—Plane lands at Reagan 7 a.m. Go straight to Capitol—full day of working the Hill to get more cosponsors for Int’l Foods Act.
—Do not take calls from campaign office. Remember why you’re doing this. No point in forsaking the real work in order to boost ego delivering speeches to crowds.
—Grandpa can handle the Tafties for the next few weeks. I’ll join back up at Taft Party National Convention in Cinci.
TWITTER—May 19, 2012
Robbrenner
Who caught the Taft speech in Pittsburgh yesterday? Man was on FIRE. #Taft #2012election
jamesjamesjames
@Robbrenner Yeah, it was incredible. He really doesn’t hold back, does he? #Taft #2012election
tunabubbles
@Robbrenner @jamesjamesjames What was so great?
jamesjamesjames
@tunabubbles “The major part of a president’s work is to keep tourists coming to town.” Ha! Not cynical, just real talk. #Taft #2012election
tunabubbles
@jamesjamesjames LOL! I love those little Taftisms of his.
DarnPatriot
@jamesjamesjames @tunabubbles Jesus, you Tafties are starting to get even more pathetically sycophantic than the Ron Paul nuts. #TaftFail
jamesjamesjames
Suck it, @DarnPatriot. Taft is the most qualified candidate of the whole bunch. #Taft
tunabubbles
@Robbrenner @jamesjamesjames Either of you going to the Taft Convention?
Robbrenner
@tunabubbles We’ll see. My unemployment checks stop next month and I still got nothing. Not the best time to fuss about with politics.
TWENTY-SIX
The sparse pines poked through the lawns of the University of Cincinnati campus like wayward sentries, guardians of the past. Taft strolled along the mostly empty sidewalks; a few summer-semester students and faculty lingered in the humid evening air, and the energy of the recently departed spring semester had not entirely dissipated. But, for the most part, Taft had the place all to himself. Which suited him just fine.
He was recognized by most of the people on campus, of course. These were his hometown comrades, people who, long before he’d reawakened, were already constantly aware of the Taft family’s historical prominence in Cincinnati, thanks to dozens of buildings and streets named for old Alphonso, Taft’s father, as well as for himself. But when confronted by the living and breathing man, Taft’s latter-day neighbors here, graciously, had the good sense