Four days after Nathan’s funeral I met with the lead anchor of a small local news station. This young anchor, Maria Beck, greeted me warmly, excitement in her bright, brown eyes. Clearly, she was well aware that this interview would gain her station more attention than it had ever had before. The camera man began his countdown, “Five, four…” he mouthed the three, two, one, and pointed at us.
“Good evening, welcome to the local news at six. We have a very special guest with us this evening, Cora Carpenter! Ms. Carpenter, I am so glad to be able to meet with you.”
“And I am glad to be here with you,” I smiled warmly.
“The country wants to know. What exactly did you discuss in your private meeting with President Persim?”
I shifted in my seat, allowing for a moment of silence before speaking, “What we discussed is between us. What can be concluded is for everyone to know. The president and I will never see eye to eye. Her policies that are attacking the poor will continue to be in place. Thousands of Americans will continue to suffer to the point where many will take their own lives.”
The picture of Nathan pouring his heart out to me about his wife taking her own life at the table hit me suddenly. I could clearly see the lines in his face and the sorrow in his eyes.
“As you know, many economists agree that the president’s policies will have long term benefits for the country,” Ms. Beck said.
I snapped out of my despondent reverie.
“What good is that? In order for these plans to work, America will have lost its humanity. We need a leader who will stand up for all, simply because they are human. I wish only that I could lead our wonderful country back to what it once stood for.”
“So you’re saying we haven’t seen the last of you? Maybe in, what, another 10 years or so you will be eligible to run?”
“The problem is, our country needs someone to stand up to Persim now. Before this third term outrage becomes a reality. I will run. In this election. If Persim can run a third term, I can run before 35.”
The audience burst into applause. Maria Beck’s face stretched into a wide smile. She knew as well as I did, that this clip was going to be huge.
By that evening, only a few short hours after the meeting had been run I was receiving phone calls. Campaign donors wanted in. The offers were astronomical. I about choked at the amounts pledged for the cause. Even when I was employed, I had never seen more than a few thousand in my bank account at once. Now, the finances I would have access to made that seem laughable. Logos had to take over my voice. Logos and Pathos were used to attention. Figures didn’t phase Logos; it was all a part of the equation he was constantly solving. However, after the initial triumphant pledges and congratulations, came the threats. Persim had her roots deep in the mindset of the majority of the country.
After the third death threat Pathos had to calm me, Honey, this is natural. Ethos has been influencing the country for so long, but we are two and he is one. It will take time, but with us, you are safe.
I thought back to the fear in Pathos’ eyes when she had actually been confronted with her triplet brother. She had confidence now, but would the uncertainty return when the time came that we would see him again? I knew only too well that I would have to confront Persim face to face again before this was all over.
I had donations enough now to move out of Aunt Sarah Gene’s house. I found an apartment in the East End that was large enough to double as an office. I refused to move out of the area I was trying to protect despite constant nagging by Sam for fear of my safety. Robert was now constantly running some new program on the phone I had purchased as well as everyone around me to do his best to stay ahead of whoever was certainly trying to track my location.
“Why would these people hurt me?” I asked Sam one evening. I hadn’t seen him for a week. My schedule had become too crammed. I had been hiring a team to support me. My proposal to run was now swirling around in the ears of Congress. News polls came in claiming my proposal to run was gaining support. Of course Persim could veto, but Logos seemed certain she wouldn’t. On the other hand I knew Congress was in her pocket. She could end their careers; she could end their lives with a nod of her coiffed head.
I know my brother, Ethos’ voice rang in my head at this reminder and my stomach clenched.
He wants to beat us. He wants to show Pathos and me that he is the strongest of us all. He will have Persim entirely, let it be. I stared into the ceiling fan of my new bedroom. Logos’ words spun around in my mind as the fan blades spun. I was running for president to stop a corrupt woman from destroying the lives of hundreds of millions of people. How did this happen?
There was a knock on my door that startled me. I jumped up from my bed. I didn’t have to ask who was knocking on the bedroom door from inside my apartment. I had hired a security team full time. I was almost positive that I had them all firmly on my side with the salary I was paying them and the gifts I now possessed. I had even checked each of their eyes for signs of green.
“Ma’am?” A deep voice boomed from behind the wood.
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“I’m fine,” I replied standing up to get dressed for the second rally that day. I had been on enough planes to last me a lifetime, but it wasn’t over yet. I stepped out of my room and walked next to my number one guard. He had his bluetooth earpiece in and sunglasses on. He had dark skin and wore a suit. He reminded me of a cartoon stereotype of a guard, almost Men in Black style.
We walked quickly down the hall and out into the sunlight. I couldn’t see them, but I knew two more armed men were hidden out of sight watching my every step. He opened the door to the hired car for me. As I slid into the seat, I felt the excitement begin to build in me again. With every speech I gave, I felt more and more powerful. I could tell Pathos and Logos were loving the eyes and ears being trained on me. It was like nourishment to them. Every applause was like eating a full course meal. I could definitely see why Ethos craved the power; why it had corrupted him.
For months you couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded by campaign advertisements for Persim’s third term re-election. And during those same months you couldn’t go anywhere without the drones being used by President Persim being hacked by Robert into messages that told the truth about Persim. I chose a man by the name of Lewall to be my running mate. He eagerly listened to everything I had to say. It was pleasurable to watch the years of lies from Ethos leave him. I could almost see it draining from his eyes.
Despite the strength I could feel in my persuasion, my message seemed to hit a wall. Suicide rates continued to increase among the underprivileged. People came to hear me, thousands stood in all sorts of weather across the country to listen and demand humanity for their country, but the deaths continued. I knew whatever had been created in the lab where I almost lost my life was still being used. Persim’s closest followers were still being injected with an essence of Ethos power and spreading throughout the city like the plague, convincing anyone the president considered an embarrassment to the country to take their own life.
We rented a large banquet hall at a hotel to watch the results come in on election night. The beginning of the event was easy going. My campaign team congratulated each other on their hard work. The states went back and forth in my favor and Persim’s. Then it happened. The final polls came in. Persim was elected for a third term despite my efforts. I sat with Lewall to my right. His face seemed calm as we stared at the 49% to 51% in Persim’s favor, but his eyes betrayed his anguish. “We will request a recount,” he said after all eyes in the room landed on us. I stood so abruptly that the sound of my chair on the linoleum floor drew everyone’s attention. I looked out at the small crowd gathered, willing them to follow with my eyes. I turned around and walked out the door, and they did.
Down the streets we marched. The street lights illuminating our fury in shadows played on our faces. As the distance to Persim Tower grew shorter, our crowd grew larger. I could feel my own rage surge through the mass behind me. A tsunami of anger, amplified by Pathos was coming for the tower. I knew Persim would be celebrating on the top floor where we had our very first encounter. Images of her clinking champagne flutes with hundreds of others flashed through my mind. My feelings were intensified by the pure hatred emanating from Logos and the disgust from Pathos. Their own brother, on the path to power through the lives of so many...again.
Inhaling, I could almost taste the control I had over the few thousand or so souls now marching behind me. Intoxicating, I could empathize with Ethos’ addiction to this power clearly. The tower loomed large overhead. Through Pathos and Logos I could sense the pride and confidence beaming from Ethos. The connection between the siblings could never se fully severed. The feeling carried as water does in a wave. Ebbing and flowing through so many molecules as one entity. Thousands had gathered below the 112 floors to celebrate our President’s reelection for a third term.
At the edge of the lawn I stopped. Like iron shavings to a magnet, all heads centered on me. My eyes peered up through the night sky to the 112th floor. Storm clouds loomed large above. I smiled, not a smile of pleasure, but of confidence and calm. I knew exactly what had to be done tonight. The crowds on either side of me were silent. Thunder rumbled in the distance. I could feel their minds waiting for my signal. For persuasion and guidance to leap forth from me like waves from a radio tower, carried through to them by Pathos and Logos.
I climbed on the roof of a nearby parked truck, “You already know we didn’t come here in peace,” my voice carried as if by magic across the people. And as my words reached the last ears on the edges of the crowd, rain began to fall, and as if the freezing cold rain had been the signal, the people charged at each other. My side versus Persim’s side. Screams echoed on the pavement and were mixed with the torrential downpour from above. Below me I heard the crack of someone’s arm breaking. I looked down to see the man fall to the ground and then be swallowed up by the mob. Was he for Persim or me?
I leapt from the truck to the ground to a space that had opened up momentarily on the pavement. I could feel my clothes being plastered to my wet body, adding minor weight as I headed for the white picket fence. I needed this distraction to get to Persim. The crowd moved around me like a current moves around a boulder. Finally, I stood at the gate. Chaos went on all around me, but my senses could only focus on the tower. I pulled my gaze from the top floor and my line of vision followed the blackened windows to the main front doors.
The center door opened, and there she stood. She wore red. Bright red from her heels, to her skirt, blazer, and lipstick. She was perfectly symmetrical in the doorway, not leaning on the doorframe but erect, her hands folded on her skirt. Lightning forked across the sky and her face changed. The red lipstick was gone, replaced by the sneer of a man, of Ethos. Our eyes met, not the mascaraed eyes of Persim, but beautiful eyes so similar to Logos it took my breath away for a moment to see them so full of hate. The lightning was gone. Persim stood perfectly in the doorway again. She turned away from me into the shadows of the lobby as her security team streamed out of the door. The men and women in black suits jumped the picket fence and began to space themselves around the fence as another layer for the mob to get through before the fence.
I touched the gate. I knew without a doubt the invisible force field was off while the last of the guards ran to their positions. My eyes traveled from the red tulips up the sidewalk to the door Persim had resigned into. I took a deep breath and the sounds of the fights behind me finally reached me. The screams and grunts. The thuds I knew to be bodies hitting the ground. I started this.
No, Ethos started this.
If you did nothing, more would be hurt over time than on this night.
Uncertainty raced through my nerves. So many would be hurt because I persuaded them to fight tonight. I didn’t have to put the feeling into words in my head. They knew.
Don’t look back, Honey.
So I didn’t. I continued down the white sidewalk in the rain. I pushed open the glass door to the lobby and walked into the darkness, leaving the mob behind me like a blind and deaf woman.