Tomorrow & Tomorrow

In his fourth-floor Treasury Department office a few blocks from the White House, Tom Callahan slouched in a swivel chair, feet planted on the scarred wooden desk, his pudgy face a picture of concentration as he scanned the odds on the next day’s races at Laurel.  He’d thrown his yellow and blue-checked sport jacket across a  leather couch that had weathered several political administrations.  His collar was unbuttoned.  A green bow tie hung loose, one edge brushing the tip of his collar.  He worked his chewed up pencil down the sheet, checking names of horses and riders that struck his fancy.

Up to his ears in debt, Tom owed money to characters he wouldn’t dream of inviting to his home.  He counted on his high government position to discourage precipitous action from his creditors, who were aware of Tom’s connection with the attorney general.  Who could say when a pipeline to the Justice Department might prove to be helpful in their line of business?

Most troublesome were the seven months of arrears on Tom’s home loan.  When the new administration took over the White House, he’d purchased a mansion in Potomac, Maryland, an upscale suburban community near Washington.  Tom had  obtained the loan, even though his assets would have been insufficient to satisfy the bank’s collateral requirements for a normal borrower.  Now his government connections seemed to be of no significance.  Dunning letters started arriving a few months ago, followed by threats of litigation.

Ken could not afford to have yet another administration official dragged into court.  The spring of the fourth year of his first term found President Kenneth Graham in deep trouble.  The media charged mismanagement and corruption.  Several high-level officials had resigned rather than face a grand jury investigation.  The press made frequent references and comparisons to the Watergate scandal.  Editorials in The Washington Post and New York Times proclaimed that an independent counsel must be appointed to investigate possible criminal violations by Graham’s cohorts.

A lawyer, Tom had built a successful civil practice in Chicago, thanks to his alderman father’s connections.  He spent the bulk of his time defending insurance companies in personal injury cases, winning a number of cases, but settling most of them.  In time, Tom became bored.  His name seldom made the newspapers.  He rarely appeared on television.  A story of an occasional a victory appeared in the Metropolitan Section of the Chicago Tribune.  But no more.  Luckily, Tom’s political connections landed him an appointment by Governor Kenneth Graham as district attorney for the city of Chicago.

Tom’s star ascended after he extricated the governor from an embarrassing predicament by investigating a police corruption scandal and successfully prosecuting members of the police force.  When Graham ran for a second term, he asked Tom to help win re-election.  After resigning from his prosecutorial office, Tom launched an unprecedented dirty tricks campaign that overwhelmed Graham’s opponent.  The media referred to him as “Tricky Tom,” but Governor Graham loved it and  expressed his appreciation by appointing Tom his chief of staff.

Tom reached a high point in his life when, out of the blue, over drinks in the governor’s office, Graham said, “Tom, I’m going to make a run for it.  I think the time is right.” 

It took Tom a long moment to comprehend.  “You’re going to run for president?”

“You know it.  That deadhead in the White House has screwed things up to the point where we should be able to lick him with our hands tied behind our backs.  And I’m counting on you to make his life and the life of the rest of his crowd miserable.”    Tom knew instantly that his future had changed radically in the space of minutes. 

Now, more than four years later, Tom relived the thrill of that moment.  He tossed his pencil aside, satisfied for now with his selections.  He rolled out of his chair and ambled to the window overlooking Fifteenth Street.  He stared through Ionic columns at the rush-hour traffic, gazing down at the stretch of roadway that had felt the weight of presidents and world leaders, and which even he, Tom Callahan, had traversed during the inaugural parade.  Bumper-to-bumper traffic crawled in both directions.