Over the previous night, Mitch and President James Polk fell asleep on the bus and ended up at the bus depot, where they and a few other bums were kicked off the bus. Frustrated that they had missed their stop a couple of times, Polk and Mitch walked to the television studio and got there around mid-morning, though neither knew the exact time.
Mitch recognized Seph’s car and became excited at the idea they were so close to finding Seph, who then could probably help them find JQA. Polk knew the truth at this point, though. JQA wasn’t smarter than Polk, he had just teamed up with somebody from the future first. Mitch was stunned. Seph and JQA? Seph wasn’t dead, he just left everybody to join some former U.S. President. Two people that would do anything to be heard.
-If they see us, they might try to run away, said Polk.
-Don’t worry about that.
Mitch pulled out a pocketknife and got on his back to wiggle underneath Seph’s car. Polk watched Mitch struggle for a few minutes.
-There! Oh shit. No. Wait. Okay. There.
Mitch wiggled back from underneath the car and jumped up, proud of himself.
With a renewed sense of frustration, Mitch boasted that they don’t have to worry about Seph getting away, as he walked to a back entrance of the television studio. The two of them then entered the building and moved down a long, boring, back hallway. Offices with closed doors lined either side of the stale corridor.
Remembering Emmit’s advice, Mitch tried to think like Seph. Where would Seph go? What was he doing? Why was he doing whatever he was doing wherever he was? The lack of answers Mitch could conjure up was frustrating. Seph had abandoned everybody just to get back on TV—and it wasn’t even him on TV. Seph was a puppet master guy, or whatever. Instead of being dead, he was working with one the presidents everybody was supposed to bring back to the museum. Mitch felt a feeling he hadn’t felt in years. He was feeling motivated. Every since he gave a tour of the President Exhibit that lasted about thirty seconds, Mitch had wanted to work at the museum, but now Seph was making that difficult. Seph and I are supposed to be a team, thought Mitch. Also, it was becoming clear that the guys were lost.
-This is stupid Mr. President; we need a plan.
-What do you suggest?
-Let’s light the building on fire.
Polk considered this suggestion but not for long, as the two guys were stopped by an interrupted voice.
-Hey, who the hell are you guys? You can’t just walk around here. What are you, lost from a tour group? You looking for somebody to harass? Trying to sneak your way onto the sound stage? What, huh, what?
Polk and Mitch turned around and were approached by a short woman wearing a microphone headset. Her name was Lou Oakley but the guys would never know this. She waited on the guys’ response while almost twitching from her morning injection of coffee. What’s the problem with these guys, she thought, they take an hour to answer anything? Then she voiced that sentiment. She then apologized to them if they were some distant--or gauging by the old guy’s clothes-- some very distant cousins of a producer.
-We’re looking for President John Quincy Adams.
-Then wait outside with the other fans.
-We are not fans.
-Yeah, he’s President James…uh…
-James K. Polk.
-Yeah!
-You’re a president, too?
-Well I’m not the First Lady.
-Okay, come with me.
Lou started walking back down the hallway, demanding the guys follow her. While walking she made sure Polk wasn’t a president imitator, the studio had gotten ten of those in the last two days—about twice as much as usual. Mitch assured her that Polk, like JQA, was the a former president.
-Your building needs some maintenance, said Polk while stepping over some torn carpet.
Lou explained that the carpet was like that when she started working here. And while it was easy to criticize the building for its flaws, none of them affected the professionalism of the employees. Times just change and so has the building. For instance none of the lights on the third floor west hallway work, but everybody’s been too busy to bother fixing them. Some of the younger employees say that hallway never had light. But of course all the old guys disagree. The way the old guys talk about the news studios from the 1950s, you’d swear the walls were made out of Spanish gold. But back in the 1950s, people only worked four or five hours a days, the rest of the time they were making babies.
-You manufacture babies now? Polk questioned, horrified.
-Not anymore, said Mitch. That was nearly sixty years ago.
Unabated by the baby-diversion, Lou continued to defend the news studio. Yes, they currently had a 130-pound Alaskan mountain wolf locked in one of the offices upstairs after it escaped from a zoo handler, but that was nothing. The other studio across town was being harassed by a 150-pound one. Also there was a third news studio but they got busted by the Feds for some money-laundering operation.
-Who the hell are these people, demanded a man of Polk’s age and stature.
-I don’t understand, said Polk to Mitch. Is that the traditional greeting in the future?
-Yeah, said Mitch.
Lou explained to her superior--Mr. Westbrook--that she found another president.
-Did you check your sources, asked Westbrook.
-Yes, he confirmed it was true, said Lou while pointing at Mitch.
-Okay, take him to make-up. I’ll tell Tracy.
Mitch followed Polk, who was led by Lou into sound stage--a hanger-like room filled with cameras, lights, three-walled sets and donut boxes.
-Seph!
-Mitch?
Seph was surprised someone found him and doubly surprised that it was Mitch. Seph knew that he was going to have to explain himself to the group of friends eventually, but figured he could wait until JQA had his own show, which was already in the works after testing positive with audiences. There was an unprecedented advantage with JQA, Seph knew and was prepared to argue. The man was U.S. President in the 1820s so obviously had a unique perspective on American history and both guys wanted to share it with the world. JQA was smart with his principles but needed Seph to understand the details and controversies of modern society. Together they could get JQA on TV so that he could spread the evolutionary ideas both guys had. Simply put, they could change television forever. But Seph knew nobody would understand until they saw it happening. Accepting change is easier than creating it.
Seph just started expressing his surprise that Mitch was here in the studio when Mitch roundhouse punched Seph in the face and tackled him to the ground. The commotion got Polk to turn back and break apart the guys but the undistracted Lou kept walking.
-What the hell was that for?
-All night I thought you were dead!
-Dead? Why?
-Because I thought that was the only reason you would ignore me.
-Look, Mitch. This is important—
-Fine. But I’m taking JQA back to the museum.
-You can’t just kidnap the president.
Mitch wasn’t ready to give up but also realized he couldn’t just walk onto the set of some opinion news show, pick up a former president and carry him back to the museum. Maybe if he had chloroform. Seph promised that when JQA’s show gets off the ground, the two brothers could just go back to hanging out, play foot-bag or whatever. Though Seph admitted he must have lost the foot-bag somewhere. Mitch pulled the foot-bag out of his pocket and dropped it to Seph’s feet. Mitch walked away.
Polk stayed with Seph.
-Where is John Quincy Adams?
-He’ll be out here soon. Have you eaten any food Mr. President?
-Not in a long time.
-There are some donuts over there.
-Dough Nuts?
-Didn’t they have those in your time?
-Of course they did. I just expected strange future food.
-Well we got sidetracked with a couple of world wars, so give us a break.
With that, Seph walked to the green room, where JQA was waiting. Polk wondered which countries still existed after a bunch of world wars that apparently happened. Prussia probably collapsed by now. And Siam? Hawaii? Italy? Polk began to realize he would die not knowing everything about everywhere, even he spent the rest of his life reading. While Polk never expected to know everything, this was the first time he realized how little he could ever know.
Polk approached the boxes of doughnuts. There was some kind of purple topping on the pastry. And what are these tiny pellets? Grain of some sort? Polk, hoping someone didn’t pour grain on perfectly good treats, took a bite. Wow, he thought, in this crazy future man really has perfected the doughnut.
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