The Lord of the Manor

Later all four of them are sitting in the plush leather chairs. They are smoking cigars. A moment of stillness.  The smoke lingers along the ceiling in a translucent cloud that glows from the lamps and the reflection of the glass of the photographs on the wall.

Bill's sitting off by himself, behind Bunny, who is in the center.

Bill's sitting in the air tray, a small bit of smoke curling up.  He is looking from chair at the far wall, in contemplation. Bunny is the center of the men, with Bill off behind him. Bunny's jacket is off and his sleeves are rolled up. His collar and tie is loosened.  His shoes are off and his feet in socks are up on an ottoman. Pres is holding his cigar looking at the ceiling.  Knight is cradling a tumbler with ice and scotch.

Bunny speaks to his brother over his shoulder.

"So now that you're back in the area, are you going to the old castle."

Bill smiles. Suddenly in his mind he is far away among the canopy of treetops in the Catskill Mountains, with a tapestry of leaves, and sunlight through them. He sees the pointed roofs of the giant house tucked in among the trees, and the vista out from them, down towards the valley.

"The castle. I haven't heard you call it that in a long time."

"The Lord of the Manor has to return home some time, after all," says Bunny.

Bill breaks a smile, almost a laugh. "The Lord of the Manor...You sound like father," he says.

"He took that stuff seriously," says Bunny.

"Indeed he did," says Bill.  In my mind he is ten years old. Out the window of the automobile he sees the onion farm as they pass it, where the man and the woman are at work in the field with hoes, next to each other. They are clad in costumes from the Medieval Era.

Bill takes a breath. "Actually I have to go to Omaha first," he says.Pres breaks his concentration on the ceiling and looks at Bill.

"Much to do on the ground there. Preparations," says Bill.

"Omaha," says Bunny. He sighs. "That brings me back."

"Going the old way? No, of course not, what I am thinking? You'll be flying there of course."

"But sometimes I miss the old way," says Bunny. "It felt such luxurious...even when it was rustic."

"Yes," says Bill. "It was that indeed," he says starting at the photograph on the opposite wall which we see it is black-and-white image of a 4-6-0 steam locomotive of vintage 1902. There are several figures in the scene, one apparently a hunter with a rifle, and next to him an Indian of the Shoshoni tribe. On the side of the locomotive near the cabin is the emblem of the Union Pacific Railroad.

FADE TO BLACK

LONG PIERCING SOUND OF A STEAM WHISTLE

What Mary Always Said

"The Democratic Party is the future," Bill said. "This has been known since Wilson."

"It is the inevitable playing out of history," he said, in measured tones that suggested he had spoken the words many times before.

"The wheels cannot be stopped from turning. The people want it to be this way. The Democratic Party represents their interests. The people need leaders."

He pauses, and resumes a more natural countenance.

"Roosevelt's...genius...was not simply to realize this, and to embrace it, but to find a way to communicate his will to...to the people."

There he stopped for a moment. They will all listening to him.

"For this I greatly admire him. Who would not?"

"But now it is a new era. Everything until now has been a dry-run. What is coming will be much greater."

He put his empty drink onto the bar.

"You should see the plans for new War Department headquarters, where Bob's office is going to be. It's going to be the biggest office building in the world. Five sides."

Bunny makes a face of amusement, imagining it.

"They had to build it in Virginia," Bill said, envisioning the location in his head.

"I could almost imagine relocating myself there."

He smiled.

"Right-o," interjected Bunny. "I know what that means, when you say that. You go ahead and do that, Bill. Not me. Too humid. If you're going to go South, you might as well go all the way to Miami Beach. That's what I say."

"Speaking of that," Bunny says, with inspiration. "Do you know what we have?" He raises his finger and starts to rise of his chair. "The latest and finest."

He looks at Prescott. "Company reserve stock fresh from Havana."

He disappears through a door momentary then returns quickly carrying a wooden cigar box in both hands. He puts it on the bar in front of Bill and opens it. 

Personally overseen by our man there," says Bunny. "Can you smell that?" His face is of rhapsodic delight. Bill smiles, looking at him.

"Very good," says Bill to him.

Bunny starts to fish under the bar for an object. "But first, Bill. You have to tell us, what did you think when you saw what Kennedy said?"

There a pause, awkward. Pres, who is still by the mantle looks up at Bill, Knight looks at Pres, then up at Bill. Bunny milks it a bit, then says, "He wasn't talking about us, was he?"

Bill cracks a smile. "I can almost guarantee you that he was," he says.

"Well that's, all right. Pop said you have make lots of enemies to get anywhere in life. Besides he's finished now, right?  Such an annoying man. And dangerous too. What a spectacular fall. It almost proves everything Mary was always saying, about the hygiene of the human race. You know, all of that stuff you like too. And the Germans."

"Indeed," says Bill, with a touch of sadness in his eyes."You have a very good point."

He looks at Pres, who is looking into his drink. "You think so too, Pres?"

Pres looks up. He is up to the challenge.

"Yes, that's right," says Pres, with confidence of affirmation. "I think it does prove that, in many ways."

For Bob

"One thing we all can agree on, Bill" said Bunny from his chair, cradling his nearly empty drink, as he talked to his brother over his shoulder "

is that government service wears very well on you."

Bill's eyebrows arch in appreciation. Confirmation he had been looking for.

"Wouldn't you agree, Pres?"

He looks at Pres.

Pres has replaced his drink on the mantle. He is looking at Bill, who is looking off the to the side.

In the pause before he can reply, Bill interrupts.

"I bring wonderful news,"he says, walking a feet over towards the bar to face the rest of them.  He is standing in front of a photograph, a large black and white print of what appears to be a stone hunting lodge, North American, grandiose in size with multiple stories.

"I was just down in Washington," says Bill. "There have been some arrangements."

They are listening.

"Bob will be going to work inside the War Department, working right next to Stimson."

There is a long silence. Even Bunny is letting it sink.

Bill continues, "Bundy too...and McCloy. All of them....special assistants."

"Special assistant," Bunny repeats back, as if processing the words.

Bill says, "Bob will in charge of..", savouring the words,

"...air affairs."

Pres takes a deep breath. He picks up his drink off the mantle again.

"Good for Bob," says Bunny, breaking the tension.

Then he turns to Knight. "I don't want to be a Democrat after all. Let them handle all these things. Washington will be much better for Bob than me."

 "Roosevelt's third term isn't looking so bad. And to think I did all that campaigning for Wilkie. for Wilkie!"
"Wilkie will be working for Roosevelt too," says Bill. "A kind of roving goodwill ambassador."

"It's all coming very soon now. We're all going to do our part, even you, Bunny."


"Well, if that's true, I need another drink," says Bunny, getting up out of his chair. "How about you, Pres? You keeping stride with me?"

"Of course," Pres, chuckling. He downs the rest of his drink and puts the empty on the mantle again.

Bunny walks over to the bar, near his brother and the photographic print of the lodge.

 "Let's drink to Bob getting his government job," he says. "Knight you're joining me. Bill, you too.  For Bob."

"For Bob," says Bill.

Bert

After Bunny finished signing the last document in front of him, he pushed it forward across the table towards Knight. Then he clapped his hands together, "OK, so where's the scotch?"

Later all four men are in another room. It is dark and paneled, with no visible exterior windows. The illumination is from multiple soft lamps. Over the mantle of dark unlit hearth of fireplace is the mounted head of a majestic elk. On the wall are many photographs, so much like a continuous heterogeneous mosaic, of hunters with trophies from various parts of the world---beasts of North America, South America, and Africa.  There are glass cases visible along the wall, but the contents are unseen.

Bunny is relaxing in one of the several soft plush leather chairs, with a drink in hand, on the rocks. Bill is standing by the bar looking at a photograph on the wall. Knight is in another nearby chair. Pres is standing on the other side of the chairs from Bill, by the mantle. He is practicing a golf put.

"Well, my dear brother," Bunny says, staring at the opposite wall with his drink, "did you hear?"

He pauses, "In your absence, Franklin Roosevelt has been elected to president again for a third time."

Bill still looking at the wall photograph, smiles, almost a chuckle.

He lets a beat pass before replaying. "Who could have imagined such a thing, when it started?"

He lets another beat pass. He takes a slow breath. He has a twinkle in his eyes. "What a fantastic opportunity."

"For whom?" Bunny asks, a bit skeptical.

Bill rotates to look at him. "All of us," he says.

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to be a Republican."

Bunny looks up at Pres, who is still in his putting pose.

"Pres knows what I'm talking about." Pres looks up from his imaginary putt.

"At least you have to be a Republican too," Bunny says to Pres.

"But that's what comes from living in Greenwich. Imagine you trying to be a Democrat out there."

Pres stands up, dropping his imaginary putter. His face erupts into the most comical expression , as if it is the funniest thing he has ever heard. The two of them, looking at each other laugh at again, and Knight laughs with them in his chair.

When the laughter has subsided, Bill says to Pres "How's your eldest? Almost graduated."

Pres sobers up a bit, but is still red faced from his laughter. "One more year to go. Writing for the school newspaper. Captain of the baseball team most likely. Soccer too. Says he's going to run for president of the student council."

"Very good," says Bill.

And then adds, "Oh, and how's Bert? Haven't talked to him in ages. Still alive and kicking?"

"Oh, yes," says Prescott, who picks up his drink off the mantle where it has been sitting. He leans against the mantle. "Still very much alive."

 "That's good to hear," says Bill.

Pres nods his head. "Indeed," he says, taking a drink of his scotch.

Poor Fritz

When the laughter subsided in the room with the collegiate sports photographs, Bill glanced at all three of them, said, "Well, we're legal now. Time for business."

In the conference room with the clock and the framed sitting portraits through the ages, the aforementioned one in the center is now revealed to depict all four men among the group in it, Bill and Knight are standing whereas Pres and Bunny and sitting in two of the chairs. Knight has his case open and he has distributed documents among them. Bunny is looking down at the one in front of him. Pres is signing the document in front of him.

Knight leans over to take a document that was  on the table in front of Bill and puts in a stack of other documents.

"That's all for the firm itself," says Knight.

"Now," says Bill to Knight. "Union Bank."

Knight nods and puts his fingers onto a folder in his over case. He distributes documents to Bunny and Pres.

As look at them, Bill says to them, "Fritz has been arrested."

Pres pauses and looks up. Bunny continues signing the document without stopping.

"They've put him a sanitarium," Bill adds, breaking into a grin.

"Poor Fritz," Bunny says, with great pathos, as he finishes signing.