Dealing with the hate, the corruption, and the overblown sense of righteousness felt like walking through a sludge pit. Yep, two years was too long to stay. I needed a way out. I considered contacting my father's opponent. He would probably hire me simply because of the damage it would do to my father’s campaign for his perfect all-American son to jump ship and join the other side. But as bad as I wanted out, I couldn’t do that to him. He was still my father. And while I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t more fear than love, I didn’t see stabbing him in the back as an option.
I twirled a rainbow-colored wristband that I’d picked up off a table at the county fair this year. It was my talisman, a symbol for me of what I wanted most in life. I got it at a booth raising money for an LGBTQIA+ youth shelter. I hadn’t had long to speak with the young lady, but I learned enough to know that when I got access to my trust fund, a decent portion of the money would go to them. I stared at the rainbow colors as they spun around my finger. That was what I wanted. Not to be ravaged by a handsome pirate, but to be free to sit at a table and be who I really am. Okay, and to be plundered by a handsome pirate. I mean, some dreams are worth keeping alive.
There was a knock at my door, and I quickly shoved the bracelet into my pocket. “Come in.”
Our housekeeper, Alejandra, opened the door. “Malcolm, your father wants you to come to his office.”
“Why didn’t he just text me?”
“No idea. But he asked me to fetch you.”
“Okay, I’ll go see what he wants, thank you.”
My father’s office was in the back east wing of the house, and that wasn’t by accident. He wanted every person who visited him to have to parade all the way through his palace so he could flaunt his wealth in their face. Of course, he never told them it was my mother’s family who had the money, not his. From the time we were old enough to have our own rooms, they’d shoved Rebecca and me off to the far west wing, which meant I had to traipse all the way through the house to get to his office. I walked in, and he was sitting behind his enormous desk with Fredrick, his head of security, standing beside him. He motioned for me to close the door and sit. Great, it’s going to be one of those kinds of talks. Not a quick little I need you to analyze these poll numbers, but instead, a long, drawn-out lecture about how I needed to behave.
“Malcolm.”
“Father, Alejandra said you wanted to see me.”
“I have been receiving some disturbing letters.”
“Okay,” I said hesitantly. “You’ve pretty much received hate mail since you took office.”
“True, but these are different. At first, I wasn’t overly concerned, but they’re coming more frequently. Most of them came to the Senate office, and they’re locked in the safe there. But the last two came here. I guess because we’re on recess.” He slid the two letters across the desk.
“Should we be touching these?” I asked, still not sure why he was showing them to me.
“Fredrick and I both had our hands on them before we read the second one and decided they were worth worrying about, so it isn’t going to matter with those two at this point. We’ll be more cautious with any others that come in.”
I glanced at Fredrick, and based on his tight lips and furrowed brow, I didn’t think he agreed that it didn’t matter, but who was I to argue.
I took the letters and opened the first one. At first, I thought the short note had been printed in a fancy font, but then I realized it was actually hand-written in some style of calligraphy.
He has traded the truth for the world’s deception, and in turn, God gave him over to the depravity and wickedness of the world. He became a liar; living in evil ways and disobeying his parents' teachings.
God’s righteousness demands payment; the penalty for sin is death.
It is through death that he may be freed from sin. Through death his soul can be saved.
“Wow,” I said, flipping to the next one. I knew as a senator and a former evangelical preacher, my father drew a mixed group of supporters and haters, but this guy seemed unbalanced.
The wicked will not be allowed to pass through the gates of heaven.
Unnatural desire breeds sin: and sin brings forth death. Therefore, if a priest’s son defiles himself, he disgraces his father, and must be burned in the fire.
Discipline your son while there is hope if you do not desire his purification by flame.
“Do you think these are directed at me?” I asked, pushing the letters back, as my hand was shaking. I’d never had anyone openly hate me. I mean, sure, my father’s political opponents took shots at both me and my sister. We were easy marks, weird home school kids, socially awkward and both pretty shy, but this wasn’t that. This was hatred.
“We don’t know for sure, but we think so. It’s hard to say because they don’t use any names, and the letters come addressed to your father,” Fredrick said.
“What does this person think I’ve done?” Panic welled up inside me. I only had one secret. One sin. Damn. Did someone know?
“I have no idea. The letters aren’t quite right—” my father started.
“Like he took verses and mixed them all up, using them to say what he wants to say.”
“Exactly. The first letters talked a lot about sin and doing the right thing. I thought they were just some loon’s commentary on politics in general, but over time they got darker. More insistent. But it wasn’t until they referenced the priest’s son in the last one that everything fell into place, and we became convinced they were all about you and some transgression they believe you have committed.” He said it casually enough, but his eyes bore into me, and I could tell he was wondering what I had done to gain this person's ire.
“I haven’t committed any transgression. We’ve been too busy on the campaign trail to even sleep, much less transgress,” I insisted.
“Of course you haven’t, you're a good boy, I know that. I’m just trying to figure out what this person thinks you’ve done.”
“Well, I haven’t done anything.” I crossed my arms over my chest protectively, like that would keep all my secrets locked inside.
“We need to take this seriously. So far, it hasn’t been anything more than letters, but we need to get ahead of it,” Fredrick insisted. “I can’t guard your father and you both, so we’re going to have to bring someone in from the outside to cover you. I’ve contacted Hart Security. They’re going to provide you with a bodyguard starting tomorrow.”
“A bodyguard. Is that really necessary? I don’t ever go anywhere except with you guys.”
“Yes, it’s necessary. Fredrick has one job…to keep me safe. I’ve made a lot of enemies of those hippie tree-hugging liberals. I can’t have Fredrick worrying about you and giving those nut jobs an opening to get to me. No, best you have your own security until we figure this out.”
Roman
I sat at my desk and stared at the stack of resumes in front of me. There had to be a better way of finding employees. It was so easy to make yourself look good on paper, but all the qualifications in the world didn’t make you a good fit for Hart Security Services. I couldn’t tell if a person had the right presence from looking at a piece of paper, but it wasn’t possible for me to meet all the applicants in person. I worried we might be passing up the right person because they didn’t look the best in their resume.