The Creation of Adam

1 WASHINGTON, DC The end of the world could not have come at a more inopportune time. The President needed his National Press Secretary 24/7, his mother and Adam, her invalid third husband, were arriving any minute and Dan had barely unpacked the boxes in his new apartment. “Why are they coming now?” Dan asked himself. He rushed to clear the small kitchen table, the glasses clinking as he placed them in the sink. He glanced around the apartment, grabbed his socks lying in the floor and tossed them into the white wicker laundry basket. The new apartment was quite a find. He and Marcus had the whole third floor of the big row house, which was at least a hundred years old. He appreciated the history. It had just been renovated and was within walking distance of the Capitol. It was expensive, but if the world did end, he wouldn’t have to make the first least payment. “Marcus, you’ll have to stay with Molly this week,” he said. “You’re getting rid of me, then?” Marcus said. Dan’s forced smile softened as he noticed the light filtering through Marcus’ close cropped red hair. Marcus stooped to pick up Dan’s plaid boxers and used them to dust the coffee table. “It’ll be a break for you,” Dan said. His face was serious now, his voice almost frantic at the thought of having to entertain during a national crisis. “You won’t have to be here with them 24-7.” “You could just ask them to get a hotel.” Marcus’ smile was fixed to his face. Dan had rarely seen him without it. How did he get his teeth so white? “Mom can’t afford that. I know they want to stay with me. It’s just so inconvenient. So much is going on right now.” Dan’s left hand was on his hip, the right on his forehead and he felt like his blood pressure was rising. “No shit,” Marcus said, bringing him a glass of wine from the kitchen. “You need to calm down.” “Thanks,” was all Dan could say. He took a deep breath and sank into the futon that served as their couch. Walt bounded onto the dark chocolate upholstery licking his master. Dan held the delicate stem ware out of reach and nuzzled his young Springer Spaniel. The wine was a Pinot Noir, one of his favorites. “Walt! You’re the one who needs to calm down,” he said. He tried, not too successfully, to hold the squirming dog at arm’s length so that he could take a sip and try to simmer down, as his mother would say. Walt jumped. The wine sloshed on the futon. “Fuck Walt, look what you’ve done.” His Tennessee accent had all but disappeared. “It doesn’t matter. Red wine won’t even show on this fabric once it dries,” Marcus said. He used Dan’s boxers to sop up the spill. “Now that won’t come out,” Dan said. “I’ll look like I’m having a period.” Marcus laughed and tossed the boxers in the wicker basket and took the whole load toward the little washer dryer combo chiseled into the hall of their shotgun apartment. Danny, Daniel or Dan, he answered to all three. It seemed everyone called him by a different name. His mom and those who knew him best called him Danny. Here in Washington he was Daniel or Dan. He was the Press Secretary for President Bill Frist. He had worked for the president when he was Senator Frist and his good work had not been forgotten by the grateful first term president. “Marcus, can you pick them up from the airport?” Dan said loudly to be sure Marcus heard him. He brushed his hand through his thick black hair and cocked his head cupping his ear and listening for some reply. “What?” Marcus looked up from his pile of dirty clothes. He held the orange Resolve squirt bottle over the wine stained boxers like the Senate majority leader’s gavel. He cocked his face and pursed his lips. He started to protest, but Dan cut him off. “I just don’t have time. There’s a press conference in two hours and I have to brief the president. I can’t be in two places at once.” “When do they land?” Marcus said, planting his hands on his petite hips. He stood five foot, two and barely 120 pounds. He drove Dan crazy. Dan knew Marcus enjoyed the times when he really needed him. “In one hour at Baltimore,” Dan replied, and gave Marcus a little peck on the cheek. “Why couldn’t it be Washington National?” “It’s Southwest. Cheaper. You know.” “OK, but you owe me. Big time!” “Great! A blow job after they’re gone,” Dan cooed wrapping his arms around his roomie’s waist and squeezing his muscular little ass with both hands. Thank God for this apartment, Dan thought, otherwise I would never make it. He and Marcus had moved several times in the area as their jobs had changed with the political tide. He really enjoyed the convenience of living so close to his work. This apartment was perfect. Outside he threw his leather briefcase into his new silver Audi TT Roadster convertible. This was his baby. It was a short walk, but with his new position he could drive right up to the west gate of the White House. He squeezed his 6’2” frame into the tiny sports car and threw it into gear. Traffic was bumper to bumper. Dan’s face was red as he drummed him fingers on the leather wrapped steering wheel. He could have walked faster. He pulled the parking brake and hit the button to put the top down while he waited at the next light. The exhaust from the diesel truck in front of him poured over the little car, choking him. He started to put the top back up, but the light changed and traffic crept forward. The gates to the White House West Wing were open and the uniformed guard stepped out of his box. Dan flashed his perfect smile and the guard waved the Press Secretary into the complex. Dan held out his badge to the Secret Service agent at the door and breezed into the Situation Room where President Frist and his cabinet were already beginning some technical discussion about the asteroid. Dan was on time, but it looked like things must have gotten started early. He quickly surveyed the room. Every seat around the big table was taken, except for his. It appeared that NASA was heavily represented. The president stood clutching his podium. He’d taken off his tie and now ran his fingers through his brush of gray hair. The air in the room was not moving. “So you’re telling me that there’s nothing that can be done to stop this, this asteroid from hitting the Earth?” The vein on the president’s forehead was prominent and his face more flushed by the second. “Dan! Where have you been? You need to hear this shit!” “Yes sir! Sorry, it won’t happen again.” Dan quickly took his seat keeping his eyes focused on his boss. “Listen to this, Dan,” the president said, motioning to the balding man wearing a white jacket with NASA embroidered above the pocket. “Repeat what you just said.” Dan could see the tension in President Frist’s shoulders relax slightly. The scientist flinched at the Commander in Chief’s blistering barrage aimed in his direction. “We have explored every possibility. We simply do not have a rocket capable of launching a large enough warhead to deflect this asteroid. And if we did have the rocket we don’t have enough time to test it and to get it to launch before the impact.” This long list of excuses reminded Dan of one of the few things worth remembering that Adam had told him through the years: “Excuses are the tools of the incompetent. They build monuments to nothing and those who specialize in them are seldom good at anything else.” Seemed appropriate about now. “What are we supposed to say to the public?” the president said, his voice cracked. Dan noticed that his tremor was becoming more pronounced. The president rested his hands on the podium and took a deep breath. Dan cleared his throat. “This asteroid, where will it impact and what kind of damage do we expect?” “The impact is calculated to occur tomorrow, Christmas Day around 1:00 p.m. It should hit the east central region of China.”