BLACK PRESIDENT, CHAPTER 4. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08NWCN6XG
Rudy relives the plane ride where the woman besides him, Sarah, spills the beans about being seduced by JFK. This is excerpted from BOOK-ONE of the TRILOGY: <https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08NWCN6XG>
“I couldnʼt put it down. Schmidtʼs novel (Black President) tells a fascinating story that mixes history with conspiracy theory and sheer fantasy to deliver a jaw-dropping and extremely entertaining read.” —Judith Ehrlich, co-director, co-writer, THE MOST DANGEROUS MAN IN AMERICA, DANIEL ELLSBERG AND THE PENTAGON PAPERS (Nominated for an Academy™ Award).
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CHAPTER FOUR
April 4, 1961
When the First Family NBC Special aired on a Tuesday night in April, Sarah came running to the TV, drawing Leon to the living room as well. In seconds, Leon noticed that his wife was staring at the tube with a glazed look on her face. And a thousand miles to the south, Rudy had also caught some of the show, watching from about halfway through. He had glanced over at his wife, Lora Ann, and saw her unblinking stare as Kennedy kept talking. The guy had hypnotized her. Understanding just how vulnerable his wife – any woman – was to the President’s magnetic charisma, Rudy couldn’t help reliving the plane ride and his conversation with Sarah, re- examining every word, facial expression and tic, hoping that some small detail would release him from the burden of it all.
Rudy thought back to being aloft in the airplane, with the beautiful young woman seated beside him. He remembered re- adjusting his seat belt several times, reclining all the way back then sitting straight up again. And he had stared out the porthole for a considerable amount of time. But even the magic of that endless topography had failed to divert his attention. He had returned to her again and again, sneaking a peek at her ankles, admiring a shoulder, an earlobe, whatever section of her he could safely catch a peek at without getting caught. The ninth or tenth time he’d checked her out she suddenly spun around in his direction, catching him completely off-guard.
“Hello there,” she had said in a friendly voice. “I’m Sarah.” With a quick gesture she had extended her hand out in his direction and he had shook it nervously.
“Hi...your...self...Rudeworth. You...You can actually...Call me Rudy.” His fumbling introduction had resulted in a flood of blood to his cheeks.
“Hi...Rudy.”
For just a second he’d met Sarah’s eyes before turning away. He remembered nudging his right cheek with an index finger, checking how hot it had become. He had wondered if she’d noticed the blush. Often he would blush and then get embarrassed by that, making him double-blush to a solid fire engine red. Had he not looked away so quickly, his second-level reaction would have certainly taken over. So he’d kept his face pointed toward the porthole for several minutes, waiting out the cooling-off period.
It was shortly before the lunch course that Sarah Little struck up a full conversation, drifting from normal chit chat about the weather, plane travel, music she liked, to personal topics; her hobbies, her husband, his auto-repair business. She had acted more and more familiar with every air-mile. Rudy remembered being flattered that his seat-mate had opted to speak to him instead of reading a book or trying to fein sleep like other attractive women did throughout the cabin. Still, he’d been totally unprepared when Sarah suddenly shifted from prattling on about the floods in the Midwest to admitting how she, “a religious” married woman, had cheated on her husband. Rudy remembered much of the story verbatim;
“I heard one of his men say to my group’s leader, Mr. Brown, The Commander wants to talk to her some more.”
Sarah told how the man had clasped her hand and held her back.” (She hadn’t mentioned yet that it was President Kennedy's assistant, or that the scene was taking place in the White House). She then added how the room had emptied of tourists and the leader had ordered his men to wait outside. She said he’d said, They’ll hold your bus. I’ve already accounted for that, to rectify her concern about transportation with her tour group.
As Rudy thought back to Sarah’s descriptions he remembered stewardesses walking, people getting in and out of their seats, clouds visible out the portholes, passengers nibbling snacks, playing cards, reading books. No one, it seemed, was the least bit aware of her startling confession-in-progress.
“The Commander seemed much different after we were alone.” Sarah’s imploring eyes had found Rudy’s again and he couldn’t remember seeing a prettier face. Angel eyes. Translucent skin. Alluring lips.
“It was like he’d dropped the mask of... seemed now more like just a lovely and charming...boy.”
Rudy remembered inhaling the stale airplane air, holding it in for a few seconds, then exhaling quietly so as not to miss a single word.
“He took my hand in his and led me quickly to a door that was almost invisible, a curved panel in the molding that opened with a slight tug. There wasn’t much more than a bed in that little closet. Then he suddenly kissed me. After that his clothes fell off quickly, as if he had some quick release button. And he undid mine. I felt paralyzed”
This is where Rudy had wondered if sitting next to a beautiful woman could somehow have jammed his brain into overdrive. It had all seemed so preposterous the second she stopped talking. Somehow he’d been drawn helplessly into an erotic dream world. Yes, that was it. Maybe the lower oxygen level in the airplane was to blame. Would an attractive woman on a plane talk to a guy like him about...screwing someone? No. Absolutely not. No way. Just his dirty mind. That’s all it was. Then she’d spoke up again.
“I love my husband and don’t want to hurt our marriage. We’ve based our relationship on honesty and trust up until this point,” she continued. “I can’t stand the thought of him asking me what’s wrong, and me going to pieces, crying or something, blurting out what happened. That’s why it’s helping me to talk it out...to you...first”
Rudy had just sat there stunned and silent.
“At the same time I don’t want to harm or dishonor this other man, who could be damaged by...by political rivals...if word ever leaked out about our...our... ”
She had taken a long sip of cold coffee.
Political? he’d remembered thinking. Did she say Political? Rudy remembered the feeling of latching onto the words, feeling that they could somehow connect him back to reality thousands of feet below. He had burst forth with questions.
“This guy...he’s in politics?” “Yes,” she’d affirmed.
Rudy remembered that he had then pushed it to the limit, gotten terribly direct with his inquiry.
“So, who...Who is he?” he’d asked.
Remembering his own boldness had sent a shiver down his spine. Sarah had said nothing for several minutes – given him the silent treatment. That was the part of the flight where he’d gotten furious at himself for ending one of the most thrilling conversations of his life with a stupid question. He remembered looking at the view out the porthole, watching little pointy mountain peaks sliding by, with frozen lakes reflecting like miniature hand mirrors. As the plane had crossed the flat, grey, wintery landscape he’d remembered wondering, Who the hell lives out there?
At some point, a ray of sunlight had broken through the cloud cover, adding a glow to the endlessly stark panorama. Inside the cabin, beams of light had lit up the baggage racks, with maybe fifty polka dots shifting in unison. But mostly he remembered that even that special effect hadn’t helped to brighten his mood. He’d continued to silently berate himself for losing her...until she’d spoken the magic name.
“Kennedy,” she’d said, softly.
Kennedy? he had repeated, mindlessly.
“The President,” she had confirmed.
Almost instantly after Sarah had spoke, the motion of the plane had forced their heads into a robotic dance. Looking ahead, Rudy had watched as all other passengers duplicated the same helpless motions, everyone doing the sideways bob and sway. A hiss from deep inside the plane indicated that hydraulic pistons were lowering wheels into position. Next, there came the captain’s calming yet authoritative southern drawl, ordering cigarettes extinguished and stewardesses seated. The seatbelt sign blinked on overhead.
Rudy re-lived the descent; remembering clouds parting to reveal distant hills, toy cars crawling along winding strips of grey. Then houses, swimming pools and trees sliding by, before a low path over water. They'd met the runway asphalt with a thud, accompanied by roaring wind and squealing brakes. The plane had rolled for quite a while, turned right then left, finally waved into place by flashlights. Passengers had crowded the aisles, pushing to exit. Sarah had moved her legs tightly against her seat cushion and motioned that Rudy should press past her, which he had done. He’d glanced back a couple times after pulling down his bag. She just sat there frozen, hands crossed on her lap, staring into the back of the next seat. The momentum of deplaning passengers soon forced him down the aisle.
Emerging into the airport, Rudy had scanned the faces of the various greeters, wondering which man was hers. Then, with a cursory glance at the flight announcement board, he’d understood. Her final destination was Seattle. She’d mentioned the rainy weather and a gas station. Sarah lived a thousand miles up the coast.
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While realizing this is a work of fiction, I can't help acknowledging that scenes remarkably similar to this probably occurred in "real" life. Amazing.