BLACK PRESIDENT-Chapter 74. The 'switch' begins.

https://www.themarginalian.org/2015/07/17/caroline-paul-almost-her/

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

John Little fell in and out of consciousness. He slowly became aware of where he was (some hospital), an IV needle in his arm, some bandages obstructing his face and legs, and the influx of concerned visitors. He recognized MacDonald, and could barely make out Vice President Fredrick Holstead (How’s it going, Jack?), along with Majority and Minority leaders from the House and Senate (Good to have you back with us! and, Get well now, you hear?). Through the haze of his pain medications and the pulsating effect of deep wounds from the explosion, even his delirium didn’t completely mask what he was sensing. These people – politicians and well-wishers – kept calling him Jack. Sometimes Jackson, or more often Mr. President. If they really thought he was his brother, continued to be so mistaken, then what happened to Jackson? He was beginning to suspect the worst.

First Lady Cissy visited John’s hospital room in the late evening of the second day. He became aware of someone’s lips pressing against his. He opened an eye and got temporarily confused. Why is Cissy kissing me? Then his thoughts reformed and he couldn’t help realizing the terrible truth. He had to ask the one question that would clarify things. And he knew he had to try and keep it together when she answered. Fortunately, he was sharp enough not blow it using the wrong name with the inquiry.

“Cissy, how’s John?”

Cissy had never been one to lie or mince words, and that trait was difficult to modify under present circumstances. So instead of hedging, she decided to just say it straight.

“Sorry, Honey. But your brother didn’t make it.”

A tear rolled down John’s cheek as he turned away from his brother’s wife. Jackson was dead. He felt his brain trying to re-set, as he thought the truth silently to himself.

Then...I’m Jack.

And Cissy...is my wife.

It took a few moments longer for his rattled brain to complete the rest.

Fran is a widow. My kids are orphaned. I’m now father of my nephew and niece.

And I’m President.

John heard the repeated echo of his sister-in-law’s voice, calling out the name of his brother to him.

“Jackson. Honey?”

In defense, he consciously kept his eyes clamped shut as the full implication of the conspiracy took hold. When will Cissy see through it all? I can’t let her! I can’t let anyone know who I really am. For Jackson’s sake. For the country! John feigned sleep as Cissy softly touched his shoulder, whispered I love you and departed. Two hard thoughts slammed into his mind as the door closed.

My twin is dead.
So I need to be him now.

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