I WAS lying in bed after a rather depressing night, listening to the birds twitter in the trees, when Jeeves shimmered into the room.
“What ho, Jeeves.”
“Good morning, sir.”
“What’s all this I hear about your heading up some Iraq Study Group? Have you been talking to my father again?”
“Might I suggest the blue suit today? Something about this November suggests blue.”
Sometimes Jeeves can be evasive, which is when I apply the old iron hand that we W.s are known for.
“Now, see here, Jeeves, I can handle this Iraq business myself.”
“Yes, sir. But, if I may, there does seem to be something of a clamor for an exit strategy.”
“Dash it, Jeeves, the only exit strategy is victory.”
“Yes, sir. So Dr. Kissinger keeps insisting. And yet, as the Bard would suggest, ripeness is all.”
“What are you talking about?”
“King Lear, sir. A play by the late Mr. Shakespeare.”
“Just spit it out.”
“As you may recall, sir, I had suggested replacing Mr. Rumsfeld before the election, rather than after.”
“Deuced good idea, Jeeves. See to it immediately. Walk him up the scaffold, and no blindfold. That’ll get us a few votes.”
We W.s are slow to anger, but, when the feeling comes, the ground around us trembles.
“If I may, sir?”
“What is it, Jeeves?”
“The election is over.”
“Oh. Dash it all, Jeeves, you might have told me.”
“I believe there was some mention of it in the newspapers.”
“Well, don’t be so mysterious. How’d we do? Another unqualified triumph?”
“Not as satisfactorily as one might have hoped, sir. One might even be tempted to say that we took rather a thumping.”
“Hmm. Wondered why there’ve been so many Democrats lurking about. Every time I look up from my desk, they’re tiptoeing about with tape measures. It’s deuced annoying, Jeeves. How’s a president supposed to concentrate?”
“I have spoken with the Secret Service about it, sir. I have asked them to limit Democratic visitors to no more than two per day.”
“That Pelosi woman. Sat there like a cobra. Froze my blood, Jeeves. Could hardly get up out of my chair.”
“I keenly regret it, sir. I shall ask the Secret Service to be on the lookout especially for her. Meanwhile, perhaps if you appealed to her maternal side? I believe the lady is a mother of five and a grandmother. Perhaps a tasteful arrangement of seasonal flowers, accompanied by an appropriate sentiment? ‘Every hyacinth the garden wears / dropped in her lap from some once lovely head.’ ”
“What are you going on about now?”
“A poem, sir, by a Mr. Khayyam. A Persian person.”
“Well, stop it. You’re making my head spin. And that Reid fellow who was with her—good Lord, he could give the Grim Reaper a run for his money. Where do the Democrats find these people, Jeeves? In a funeral parlor?”
“I believe the gentleman is from the state of Nevada, sir. The ‘Battle Born’ state, as the state flag has it. Admitted to the Union during the Civil War.”
“I tried to jolly him up by giving him one of my nicknames. You know how I like to crack the old ice by giving people nicknames.”
“I am acquainted with your tendency toward the spontaneous assignment of the fraternal sobriquet. Might I inquire just what you called him?”
“Cactus Butt.”
“Doubtless a reference to the flora of his natal environs. And was the future Senate Majority Leader amused, sir, by your jeu d’esprit?”
“He just stared at me. Deuced uncomfortable, let me tell you.”
“Perhaps the gentleman is not inclined to persiflage. But, if I may, sir, with respect to Iraq?”
“All right, then. Give it to me straight up.”
“Might I suggest, sir, a regional conference?”
“Dash it, Jeeves, we’re at war. You can’t go conferencing with bullets flying all over the place.”
“Indeed, sir. And yet if we were to invite, say, Iran and Syria and some of the other affected countries to sit down for what is, I believe, referred to as ‘networking,’ it might take some of the pressure off yourself?”
“You mean the sort of how-d’ye-do where everyone sits at one of those huge U-shaped tables and makes endless orations all day?”
“That would be the general notion, yes, sir.”
“Now, steady on, Jeeves. You know I hate those things. You sit there with an earphone, listening to interpreters jibber-jabber about how it’s all your fault. I’d rather take my chances playing Blinky with Cobra Woman and Cactus Butt.”
“You wouldn’t actually have to attend personally, sir. Indeed, I could represent you, if that would be agreeable.”
“I say, would you, Jeeves?”
“Certainly, sir. Indeed, sir, it is my impression that you have been working much too hard as it is. Might I suggest that you winter at the ranch in Crawford? I believe the climate there this time of year is thought to be salubrious.”
“But what if the vice-president wants to come down and go quail-hunting?”
“I have taken the liberty of speaking with the Secret Service, sir, and have asked that they replace Mr. Cheney’s shotgun cartridges with blanks.”
“Jeeves, you’re a genius. Pack my things. We leave immediately.”
“Thank you, sir. I endeavor to give satisfaction.”
2006