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Title: The Shadows Grow Long 4/18
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Monday � the night before � 9:28p.m., The Newseum Plaza, Rosslyn, VA
�That was � That was... I�ve never heard anything like... Wow�. Those were the only thoughts rolling through Stephanie�s head.
She had just left the President�s Town Hall meeting at the Newseum. Being a journalism student gave her an appreciation for various writing styles. But what had impressed her so much was that throughout the evening the President's words just seemed so �off the cuff�� and subsequently more personal and sincere. It made her feel like he was talking directly to her.
Hmmmm.... maybe she would have to reconsider that class on extemporaneous speaking.
Tonight was amazing, but really, the whole day had been great. Stephanie had decided to make a "day of it", and had wandered the grounds at the Newseum before the event.
The Newseum was impressive. Freedom Park - the area surrounding the Newseum - had some significant reminders of the ongoing battle for personal freedoms that Steph loved to pore over.
There was a large section of the Berlin wall. And a replica ballot box from South Africa. Finally, there was the "Journalists Memorial". Studying journalism at GW she had been to the monument before, but today had been gorgeous. The light had glistened off the glass monument, almost bringing life to the names of the fallen reporters whose names were engraved on the spiral plates.
Here at the end of the day, Steph was exhausted and looking forward to getting home. The problem was, she knew the traffic getting out of the Newseum was going to be crazy and not only because there were so many people here, but because some of the roads were currently blocked off for the security surrounding the presidential motorcade. As much as she had enjoyed seeing the President she certainly didn't want to compete with his traffic - she knew who would win.
So while the crowds gathered on the Plaza to shake the hand of the president before he left, Steph headed to the parking ramp to look for her car. She found it, got in, and while buckling up she smiled once more over how great today had been.
She had just driven to the ramp�s exit and was waiting to turn onto the street when suddenly her passenger door was pulled open. Then someone jumped in.
All Steph saw was the gun. She didn�t know anything about guns, and generally just hated them. Now there was one pointed right at her.
�Go! Go! Go!� He yelled, and swung the gun around in some general pointing direction. Steph was on automatic pilot. She just followed the direction the gun was pointing, hoping she understood him correctly.
Her old grey Honda scraped bottom as she pulled out of the ramp, making a terrible noise.
He kept yelling - swinging the gun the whole time - so Steph just kept following his directions, whatever he said. About 10 minutes later he finally took a break in yelling at her. That was her first chance to just breathe, think, and figure out what was happening.
Who was this guy? What was going on? Where was he taking her?
Think, think, think: she had read in one of those "survival guides" something about what a person was supposed to do in a hostage situation in their car... With a cringe, she finally remembered: never let the person take you to a second location.
Well, she had blown that play. All she knew was that they were currently heading west, but that they had yet to cross the beltway.
As she drove, she could hear police sirens from all sides, seemingly coming from everywhere. What had happened? Something big? Did they know about her situation? Were all the sirens about her? With that last question, she realized that this much noise probably wasn't just for her... really, the sirens were everywhere.
Finally, and with a terrifying flash: were the sirens and this man somehow connected? What in the hell was going on?
He moved fast, startling her, as he turned on her car radio. He started fiddling with the knobs... wait... what? He's looking for the news?
When the station cleared, Steph couldn�t believe what she heard� somehow this terrible night had managed to get worse.
The President had been shot. Oh, God, how could that have happened? She had just seen him! And, oh, jeez...
The man in her passenger seat was letting loose a string of filthy obscenities at the radio, and bashing his fist against the dashboard when the penny finally dropped.
Steph realized that he was somehow connected with the President being shot. And not only was he crazy enough to shoot the President, but he was in her car, angry as hell, and pointing a gun at her.
It was too much... she had to know, just had to hear it straight from him, so she started yelling, too, �You crazy asshole! What the hell did you do?! Did you just shoot the President?!�
And the man just started laughing.
email Teresa
mercier_beaucoup at yahoo.com
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