“Well, Mrs. Travis, we did it. Texas is now its own nation.”
Marty Kert, the former governor and interim first president of Texas, tapped his Stetson against his leg as he looked over the gravesite of Mrs. Sylvia Travis, the woman who’d stood behind him, guided him and helped bring Texas to this place in history. Even now, he could feel her light touch on his shoulder, and he smiled through tears.
He could still see her as she was when he first met her, pacing and talking with her hands as she carried on a cellphone conversation in the corner of the small bar across from the boxing ring. She was slim, her silver-streaked blonde hair pulled back in a neat chignon, make-up impeccable, wearing a cobalt blue silk blouse over a pair of jeans with rhinestone trim on the pockets. He couldn’t tell how old she was, but he guessed between forty and sixty.
“You said we’d get here and, as usual, you were right. It was amazing. I wish you’d been here to see it.” He lifted his gaze to the horizon and sighed a bit enviously. “You have a much better view, though.”
Mrs. Travis’ final resting place was on the side of a small hill overlooking the Colorado River, and Marty thought it was the most beautiful gravesite in all of Texas. Right now, frost covered the landscape in eerie white, but she would be able to see the crystal clear water of the river flowing by and smell the flowers in the springtime. Knowing her lifetime love affair with flowers, gardens, and the scenery here, he felt her warmth in his heart as he spoke to her softly, bending down to place a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses on her grave.
“Of course, this means life is going to change,” he said. “I don’t think it’ll change as much here in Texas, because everybody will know I’m still just Marty Kert. But the rest of the country is going to have a field day with this, and I’m really not looking forward to it.”
Mrs. Travis had introduced him to Texas politics―not just the highlights and the glitter of it, but the seamy underside where things weren’t always on the up and up. She wanted him to understand it all, regardless of its color, so he’d be the best “inside man” around. She made him see Texas the way she saw Texas, as an independent republic, not just one more state paying money into a bloated, corrupt federal system.
And she had helped make it happen.
A discreet cough from behind him reminded him he was out of time.
“I’ll meet you at the car, Jake,” he said over his shoulder. He heard his driver walk away, his footsteps crunching on the white gravel path. Then he leaned in a little closer so only Mrs. Travis could hear him. “And this, Mrs. Travis,” he said, “is just the beginning.”
He turned and strolled down the rock-lined path leading back to the main parking area where Jake Lambert, dressed in black jeans, a red shirt with a bolo tie, and black alligator boots, leaned against the side of the heavily armored Cadillac Escalade. He’d been Marty’s driver/bodyguard for several years, was a former Navy Seal, and usually an easy man to get along with.
Marty could see his own reflection in the darkened glass windows as he approached the vehicle. Even to himself, he looked younger than his thirty-eight years; he was clean-shaven, with strong facial features, including a slightly crooked nose, a souvenir from one of his boxing matches. Today, he wore a black topcoat over a charcoal gray suit. His slate-grey eyes, alert and intelligent, peered out at the world, and he looked ready to tackle all the problems that came with being the interim president of a new nation.
Jake leaned over and opened the door for him, and Marty slid into the back seat. As Jake got into the car on the driver’s side, he glanced back at Marty. “Where to, sir?”
“Let’s go see what’s waiting for us at the capitol, Jake,” Marty said, removing his hat again and setting it on the seat beside him. It was an unusually cold morning for a November in Texas, and Marty was glad of the vehicle’s heated interior.
He sat back in the luxurious seat across from Kay Darling, his press secretary, a slim, petite woman in a navy business suit.
“All right, Kay,” he said. “What’s on the agenda?”
“Just so you’re not blindsided, Norma called to alert you that former President Corbin Jackson issued a statement you need to be aware of. I think Jackson may have heard some whisper about the new oil reserves found at Eagle Ford. While he didn’t come right out and say it, he hinted very strongly that IF Texas found more reserves, we probably wouldn’t allow people from the states to buy leases for them.”
“What? What would make him issue any kind of a statement, particularly something that stupid?” Marty was incredulous. “He has no standing at all on anything.”
Kay shrugged. “I surely don’t know what he’s getting at,” she said, “but I don’t have all the info. I’d just play this one close to the vest.” She grinned at him. “Just give them some political double talk, and pretend complete ignorance of the subject, which won’t take much pretending because we’re pretty much in the dark about it.”
“Okay, I can do that.”
“I’ll have Norma get a replay of it so we can view it in your office as soon as we get back,” Kay said.
“Sounds good,” he told her. “Would you have Norma round up Sam Waters, Raymond Ramos, and J.P. Thompson, and also Pat Thomas, if possible, to meet me in my office?”
“Sure thing, sir,” she said, making notes on her tablet. “Now, there are some other items you might get asked about as well. Where are we on the new constitution?” She looked over at him. “Now that we’re our own country, everyone wants to know how we’re going to pay the bills, who our trade partners will be, how we’re going to move from Texas to other states in the Union, how air traffic control…”
“Whoa, Kay!” he said, laughing. Then he got serious. “I’m sure you and your terrific staff have all those answers mapped out for me, but let’s save them for our first press conference.”
As the Escalade pulled out onto Texas 183 headed for the capitol, the new president gazed out the wide windows, noticing it was a beautiful day, the kind that gave a person hope.
The journey to this point in time, this moment in history, had been long and hard. A committee was appointed to work out the separation details with the United States government, and it was going to take two to three years to finalize what the people’s vote had started. Marty wasn’t even sure three years would be long enough. Transitioning Texas from a state in the Union to an independent sovereign nation was something no living Texan, no living American, had seen before, and the ride would probably be rocky.
Well, not probably, he grinned wryly. As he’d expected, a crowd of media types awaited him at the capitol.
Kay and Marty exited the vehicle. Questions came flying at him as soon as he reached the welcoming committee, and microphones were thrust at him. He looked around and spotted a reporter he knew from the local ABC affiliate.
“Pete,” he called.
“Thank you, sir,” Pete Boyer said. “Care to comment on President Jackson’s statement from this morning?” He leaned forward expectantly, and his cameraperson angled for a good shot.
“I could,” Marty responded, “but you have me at something of a disadvantage. I just heard about it a few minutes ago.”
Another reporter asked, “President Jackson called into question if civil and human rights would stay the same in Texas as they were before the separation. Will they?”
“Thanks for the question, Angela. How long have you known me now?” he asked, smiling.
“A few years, sir.” She laughed.
“So, knowing me, what do you think my answer would be?” Marty gazed over at her.
“I’ve always known you to be fair, sir, so I’d guess yes.”
“You’d be right,” he told her. “Texas is its own country, but it still works with the United States. If nothing else, Texas is the epitome of individual rights and liberties. Once I know the whole story behind President Jackson’s comments, I’ll get back to you. Anything else?”
Another reporter raised his microphone toward the president. “How about travel between Texas and the other states, especially air travel?”
“Nothing will change, Matt,” Marty said. “We’ll keep doing what we’ve been doing; it’ll be easy. We’re going to make this transition work in a way that will be beneficial to everyone.”
He paused, then said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I have just one more thing for now. Congratulations to all us Texans who had the good sense to break the chains that tried to keep us attached to the bloated, unwieldy United States government, and welcome to the new country on the verge of breaking in with the big boys!”
This last comment drew a round of applause, He waved, then his protective detail of Texas Rangers closed up around him and guided him into the building. The heavy door closed behind him, shutting out the noise, and he took a deep breath of freedom. It was time to go to work.