Chapter Sixty-Six
Thursday October 21, 2032
The dogs sprang from the back seat of the car, and they were relieved to be free. The drive had been over four hours from Palo Alto to Castella, which was so far north of the Bay Area that it almost reached the Oregon border. The spectacular Mount Shasta was half an hour farther, yet still gloriously visible in spite of the distance, and there were plenty of picturesque smaller mountains nearby as well.
Stewart Williams raced up toward the front of the house and said, “I want to see inside!”
“Not yet,” said his mother. “The reason your grandparents built this place is because of the outdoors, not the indoors. Let’s explore a bit out back before you inspect your rooms.”
The family’s moving truck had already come and gone, leaving the house filled with bulging cardboard boxes. Since the Williams were only changing residences temporarily, they hadn’t bothered with such things as tables, chairs, sofas, rugs, or any of the other household ingredients that make a typical relocation arduous and time-consuming. Instead, when they decided to make use of the old family retreat, they decided to make do with the aged appliances and furniture that came with the place.
“Come on kids, let’s go around to the back yard,” said Elizabeth, leading the way. The din of the fast-flowing river had been audible since they got out of the vehicle, and the pleasant sound of the rushing water was simultaneously soothing and exhilarating.
As they made their way to the other side of the house, the family saw the Sacramento River only steps away from their backyard. That far north, the river was about thirty feet wide but just a couple of feet deep, with smooth boulders the size of cantaloupes constituting much of the riverbed. The sight of the water prompted Elizabeth to say, “Now, Stewart, you remember your promise about the river, right?”
The boy was walking along the water’s edge where the very large, smooth boulders offered a safe place to survey the scene, and he said, “Yeah, mom, I know. Don’t worry. What about Virginia, though?”
“The same promise goes for her,” she said. “We don’t want either of you drifting downstream and being adopted by some other family.”
Virginia dipped her hand into the water and said, “I don’t think you have to worry about me. This water is way too cold for swimming!” She looked a few feet away from the river’s bank and said, “Hey, I see fish!”
Her little brother ran over shouting, “Where? Where?” and the two children squatted on the edge of the water, scanning beneath the surface and pointing out anything living they saw, whether it was an insect, a fish, or a plant. The family’s three dogs were excitedly running around the property, occasionally venturing a few steps into the water before retreating again to scamper back into the woods.
The river was lined on both sides with trees, most of them measuring forty to fifty feet, with a mix of deciduous and conifer. The abundance of plants and trunks made the sharp blue sky seem much larger, and the endless sound of the rushing water was intoxicating.
Elizabeth left her children to play on their own and walked over to the nearby bridge, which crossed over the shallow river. Although it could accommodate cars, as the perfectly spaced wooden reinforcements suggested, it was principally a pedestrian bridge, with the wooden beams that constituted it being about as far apart as railroad ties as if laid for a train.
She leaned on the railing of the bridge silently, looking over at her children fascinated by the life they were finding within the river. None of the family had lived near water before, neither ocean, lake, or stream, and this simple aquatic element already felt like the soul of the place.
After a few minutes meditating on the scene, she called out, “Come on kids, let’s go check out your new home!” causing Virginia and Stewart to drop the sticks they were twirling in the water and rush to join her. The dogs, happy to chase whatever wildlife they could find, were content to remain outdoors for the time being, at least until someone would get around to cooking something in the kitchen.
The house was made of dark brown wood, with the white trim of the windows and doors being the only other color. It had been built decades before, and although it displayed signs of age from so many years of rain and occasional snow, it was in generally good repair. It was by no means a palace, but it was a handsome old home, surrounded by a deep deck which had a tall railing around its entire perimeter.
Elizabeth Williams pulled the key ring out of her pocket and unlocked the door, having to give it an extra shove since the wood had swollen to be a bit larger than its frame. “Come on in, let’s have a look around,” she said, slipping the key back into her purse and taking her first glance where the movers had left the dozens of boxes a few hours earlier.
She smiled to herself and said, “It’s like where old furniture comes to die.” The kids looked at the mishmash of outdated chairs, tables, and rugs. “Hey, it’s homey,” said Virginia, walking through the family room. “And look at this huge picture window,” she said, drawing the drapes. “You can look right out onto the river from here. What a view!” Glancing at the sofa, she added, “And if we move a few dozen throw pillows, I bet we can even find a place to sit down.”
“Hey, look at me!” said a voice that seemed to come from the ceiling. Virginia and her mother looked up and saw the boy poking his head between the vertical slats of the loft. A narrow set of stairs led to a portion of the house too small to call a second floor but perfectly situated for children to play. Stewart asked, “Can I sleep up here?”
“It’s up to you, Stewie, but you do have a real bedroom,” said his mother.
Elizabeth strolled into the kitchen, examining the elderly appliances and turning each of them on to make sure they still functioned. “Well, it’s quaint, I’ll give it that,” she said. “I think it all works. We should find a store to buy groceries before it gets too dark. Isn’t this going to be fun? It’s kind of like camping, except with running water.”
She hadn’t noticed that her daughter wasn’t there anymore until she heard Virginia calling from outside, “Mom! Come check this out!”
Her mother strolled out the front door and down the steps to the ground. Finding her daughter at the end of a long, dusty rectangle, she saw there was a horseshoe pit she hadn’t noticed before, complete with stakes and backboards at each end.
“So, I throw it like this, right?” asked her daughter, hurling the metal object toward the other end, which ricocheted off the backboard and landed with a thunk. Looking a trifle dejected, she immediately stated, “Well, at least I was close.”
“I’ve always been told that ‘close’ is good enough only in horseshoes and hand grenades,” said her mother. “And I think this is horseshoes, so you’re A-OK.”
“Mom, I love you, but honestly, you say the weirdest things.”
The three men were sitting around the small table, and President Wright had been propping his head on his hands, staring at the table for nearly a full minute until his chief of staff spoke up. “Mr. President,” said George Reid, “I think you may be judging the situation too pessimistically. If I was a betting man, I’d say that in twenty-four hours, all of these concerns are going to be behind us.”
Still staring at the table, Wright replied, “Well I am a betting man, George, and I’m not sure I’d take that bet.” Glancing to his right, the President asked, “How about you, Danny? What’s your take?”
Daniel Watts said, “I’m strongly inclined to agree with George, sir. You know as well as I do that this Select Committee is a political stunt, and it’s already fallen off the front page. You are so far ahead in the polls that you’re practically untouchable, so they’re going to throw anything they can at the wall to see if it sticks.”
The President lifted his face, which looked particularly haggard, and he said, “Well, gentlemen, the fact of the matter is that something may stick. This goddamned Guandi mess could come back to haunt us. We’ve got to do everything in our power to tamp it out, minimize the collateral damage, and move on. Are you two ready for this afternoon?”
“Yes, sir,” said Reid. “Our view is that if we can put forward a strong message and make clear how much harm the committee is doing to the country with this investigation, we can compel them to back off. They’ve got absolutely nothing solid to go on with Guandi. The men they captured in Taiwan were so far removed from our own operatives that there’s no way they can trace anything back to this office.”
“Although we’re going to have to take a conciliatory stance with the Chinese,” interrupted Reid. “This incident could well be the opening they’ve been hoping for in order to bring Taiwan back into the fold. My opinion is that letting them do so is our best bargaining chip by far. At the end of the day, I don’t think China really cares about the players. What’s important to them is that they reacquire what they’ve been trying to get back for decades.”
Wright leaned back, swiping his palm over his bald scalp. “It’s time for us to reshape this relationship, I think. We just need to look at this in the proper light. There comes a time to see this as a dispute between China and Taiwan. Enough is enough.”
“Yes, sir,” said Reid. “And as I said, there’s no better bargaining chip. When you speak with Xi tomorrow, you can strongly suggest to him that we can work with them on direct matters between our respective countries and step aside on these domestic issues.”
“He’ll jump at the chance, sir,” agreed Watts. “You may be able to adapt this situation into something constructive after all. The men they’ve captured are going to disappear, and in turn, so will Guandi. You might even get the Peace Prize for this, if all the stars line up.”
Wright smiled at the suggestion. “Blessed are the peacemakers, right, boys? Well, that’ll be all. We’ve got our own respective challenges this afternoon. I’m sorry you two got the short end of the stick.”
Both men stood up, and George Reid said, “There’s nothing to worry about, sir. As far as I’m concerned, this is the beginning of the end of this entire mess.”