| |
Amberlin looked up from her copy of the Boston Globe. She'd developed the habit since arriving in Boston of picking an issue up each morning and bringing it to breakfast to stay up on what was going on around her. Truthfully, it was as much to stay up to date on what President Kennedy was doing as anything else. She still hoped to someday have the opportunity to meet him and shake his hand. Actually, in her daydreaming, she never bothered shaking his hand but instead gave him a big hug, though she doubted his Secret Service agents would ever allow such shows of affection. This morning she had to pause in her reading to take a few deep breaths in an attempt to settle herself.
“What’s up?” Spooks asked, noticing the look of concern on her daughter’s face.
“It’s this issue with Cuba,” Amberlin replied. “Do you know that the Soviet Union plans to put nuclear weapons there?”
“Really? That doesn’t sound good,” Hannah said between mouthfuls of eggs. “How far away is Cuba, anyway?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Amberlin answered, “but it’s not that far away from the coast of Florida, and it’s a whole lot closer than Russia.”
“What’s the paper saying we’re going to do about it?” Spooks asked, a look of concern growing on her face as well.
“It says President Kennedy is warning the Russians that he won’t allow them to bring in more nuclear weapons,” Amberlin replied. “It’s also saying that we may be on the brink of nuclear war?”
“Holy Mother,” Spooks replied. “That would be awful.”
“Yeah, it would sure put a crimp on record sales,” Hannah quipped, then seeing the looks of astonishment on her two friends’ faces, added, “Sorry. Just trying to soften what’s happening with a little humor.”
Amberlin nodded, then reached out and clasped her mother's and Hannah's hands. "I know war is the last thing Kennedy wants, but at the same time, he can't let the Russians just walk all over us. Can we take a minute...?" She paused as her gaze wandered back to the front page of the paper and to the article besides the one she'd been reading. The headline read:
Reverend Stover Blasts JFK for Mismanaging Global Crisis
“Oh, no,” Amberlin said with a groan.
“What now, dearheart?” Spooks asked, as she also glanced down at the paper. She picked it up and read the headline, her face growing red as she did so. “You’ve got to be kidding? This can’t be our Reverend Stover, can it? Not the small town, small-minded preacher from the North Carolina mountains that we’ve all grown to hate?”
“I’m afraid so,” Amberlin replied. “It says here that Kennedy told one of his close friends, that he wanted on his epitaph, ‘He kept the peace,’ and that he’d told another friend, ‘I am almost a peace at any price president.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Hannah asked. “Isn’t that what we want—someone who won’t go off half-cocked looking to blow up the world?”
“Not according to Rev. Stover,” Amberlin replied. “He says it’s time for our President to quit pussy-footing around with Khrushchev and show him who’s boss.”
Now it was Hannah and Spooks who groaned.
“As I was saying,” Amberlin continued. “Let’s take a minute to pray for our President, and while we’re at it, let’s say a prayer for Rev. Stover and his wife. Somehow, they’ve managed to find their way to the front page of the Boston Globe. I suppose on the positive side, they’ll be too busy with their warmongering to give us any more trouble.”
“We can pray for that small miracle,” Spooks replied, “but I wouldn’t count on it. You’re growing in popularity as well, and your message of peace and love is diametrically opposed to theirs of war and fear. I don’t see them losing interest in us anytime soon.”
“I’m afraid you may be right,” Amberlin replied giving her mother’s hand an extra squeeze, “but we can pray for it anyway. After all, God works in mysterious ways, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll say,” Spooks replied. “Stranger and more mysterious every day.”
The three of them bowed their heads in prayer. After a couple of minutes of silence where each of them delivered their own silent prayers, Amberlin finished with an “Amen,” then glanced at her watch. “Whoa, I need to get going. I’m supposed to meet Mr. Grossman in a few minutes.”
“Do you want me to come with you as your business manager, of course?” Spooks asked.
“Sure, if you'd like," Amberlin replied. While she didn't really think it would be necessary, she also didn't want her mother to feel like she was being replaced in her role as business manager. "He wants to go over what we need to do over the next few months. Wants me to cut another demo tape, audition some backup singers, and he has a guitarist he thinks would be a good match for my style of singing. Stuff like that."
“Yeah, I better be there too,” Spooks replied. “I still don’t trust this dude.”
“His name isn't dude," Amberlin said. "It's Mr. Grossman. Please remember that. I won't let him call any of us babes or sweetie, so I can't very well let you get away with calling him, dude."
“And to think I'd gone out of my way to clean up what I wanted to call him," Spooks answered back, but she was smiling, so Amberlin let the snide comment go.