The People Need a Leader | Teen Ink

The People Need a Leader

January 21, 2015
By Joseph Lopez GOLD, Springfield, Illinois
Joseph Lopez GOLD, Springfield, Illinois
13 articles 0 photos 3 comments

he driving rain in Washington seemed specially planned to go with the occasion. The streets were jammed with all manner of people - curious citizens, military, police, and dignitaries making their way to the funeral of America’s 53rd vice-president. Notably absent from the commotion was former Speaker of the House and current acting president, Peter Sullivan. That probably had something to do with him trying to run a country.
Technically, he wasn’t the president. The president was still very much alive, albeit unconscious, and unable to act. The vice president, on the other hand, had met with a much more unfortunate fate. It hadn’t been anybody’s fault, though the political commentators and conspiracy theorists would have the public believe otherwise. Some blamed Muslim terrorists, of course, though there was no evidence to support that. Some blamed extreme Republicans, and some blamed extreme Democrats. Again, there was no evidence, and the latter didn’t even make sense, as the President, a Democrat, was unconscious and the Republican speaker of the house was trying to do his job.
The whole debacle had started three days ago when the aged president had suffered an unexpected stroke. He was rushed to the hospital, and the Vice President had assumed temporary powers. He’d boarded a plane to Washington from his home in Oregon and was over New York when the storm hit. The private jet hadn’t stood a chance against the powers of nature.
The nation quickly took up differing opinions on the topic. Many people mourned the loss of the Vice President, and many others directed most of their worry towards hoping for a speedy executive recovery. A few turned towards Sullivan. The president wasn't in too much risk of death, but if he would ever be fit to lead again remained to be seen. Sullivan hoped, along with much of America, he would recover quickly and completely.
The White House was in such turmoil that Sullivan had elected to go nowhere near it. As the parade of mourners passed by, he waited in his office. He was not the president, he had told himself. He was just there in case some great calamity struck. He wasn't even sure if he could act then.
The problem stemmed from the President's state. Had he been deceased, it would be an easy, albeit sorrowful, matter to make Sullivan the President of the United States of America, have him pick a Vice President, and go on with life. However, because the President yet lived and was only temporarily unable to act, the Presidential Disability Act kicked in - or it would have, had there been a vice president. Congress, technically not in accord with the act, had accepted testimony of the Cabinet as enough to give temporary powers to someone, but without a Vice President, that 'someone' was unclear. It had been decided that Sullivan would lead, as he was next on the list to assume office under normal, fatal circumstances.
There had not been consensus, however. Some Congressmen, largely Democrats who opposed Sullivan's views, wanted Congress to pick the replacement. It had been suggested to hold another national election, though most everyone knew that would take too long and leave the country vulnerable.
The phone on Sullivan's desk rang. He answered, hoping sincerely it was good news about the President.
It was Bill Hernandez, another member of the House from Sullivan's home state of Wisconsin. "Hello, Peter," he said, "I'm afraid I've got some bad news."
"Please tell me I'm getting my powers revoked," Sullivan implored.
"We both know you want that. The president just woke up," Hernandez began.
Peter cut him off. "Thank God."
"It's not that good." Bill paused for a second. "He doesn't actually know he's the President."
Peter said nothing for a second. "Do you think it's still a temporary thing?"
"I don't know," the Representative answered. "Maybe you'd better come down here. I can't get in to actually see him. You could, though."
"All right. I'll be at the hospital soon." Sullivan hung up the phone.
***
Sullivan finally gained admittance to go in to the President's room after several hours of forcing his way through traffic and having to repeatedly inform hospital staff that, yes, he was the acting president, and, yes, he did know that the President was in the room over there, thanks. He only had a small entourage of Security compared to the normal amount, as much of the regular force was at the hospital. He entered the room, dreading the worst. The afflicted executive lay in a bed. He looked even older than his sixty-eight years. A complete team of medical personnel crowded the room. The First Lady stood to one side, crying slightly.
As Sullivan approached the bed, a doctor pulled him aside.
“Sir, we’ve already told him he’s the president. He seems to believe us, but he’s really out of it. He remembers being Jack Halley, the governor of New York. He doesn’t remember being Jack Halley, President of the United States.
Sullivan nodded his thanks.
“Hello, Mr. President. How are you doing?” Sullivan asked.
The executive shook his head. “Not very well apparently. Who are you?”
“I’m Peter Sullivan. I was the Speaker of the House - now, I’m acting in your stead.” Peter said.
“I’m still not entirely convinced that even is my stead,” the President said sadly.
"Do you really not remember anything of your term?" Sullivan inquired.
"Not really. It's all very blurry. I... I think I might remember the White House a little. I'm sorry."
"It isn't your fault, Mr. President," the Speaker reassured him. He paused before continuing, as though he was considering what to say next. "Mr. President..." he continued, "I'm going to have to ask you to resign."
Sullivan hadn't wanted to say those words. He knew it would look like he was taking advantage of the stricken man and that wouldn't be helped by their party difference. He hadn't ever even really wanted to be President. He wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to handle it; but, it wasn't a full term. Just two years and a few months. He also knew that the nation would be crippled without real leadership.
The room was quiet for a moment. Mrs. Halley was the first to speak up.
"Mr. Sullivan, my husband is going through a very difficult-" Peter cut her off.
"Mrs. Halley, I know. I didn't want to have to do this. Please understand that, if I could, I would give your husband back his full powers without hesitation. But I can't."
The First Lady nodded. "Alright. I understand... but..." she didn't finish. She just trailed off and stared at the floor.
Sullivan knelt beside the bedridden President. "Please understand, sir. I wish this hadn't happened. But, if nobody is the real President, everything will be in disorder. I'll even promise to keep up what you were doing, whatever I might think about your policies. I beseech you, Mr. President. Resign - not for me, but for America."
Sullivan's speech seemed to have some effect on the President. "I hesitate to do this, because I can't say I fully trust you, Mr. Speaker. I see your point though." The President took a deep breath. "I'll do it."
"Thank you. You can still run next year. In fact, please do." Sullivan said. "I'm sorry this had to happen." The president granted a wordless apology with a nod of his head. "You need your rest. I'll send someone down later with the formal papers."
With that, Peter Sullivan left the room.
As he walked toward the exit, he was accosted by Bill Hernandez. "Do you have any clue what you're doing?" the representative demanded. "You can't just make the President of the United States resign like that! America's going to go nuts!"
Sullivan laid a hand on Bill's shoulder. "We'll deal with that when it comes. One problem at a time."
Sullivan left the building, already feeling as though a great weight had been applied to him. He had some serious thinking to do.



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