A green room is a room in a theater or studio for the accommodation of performers or speakers when not required on the stage. It functions as a break lounge so that performers do not have to go back to dressing rooms and are still easily accessible for their call. In Shakespearean theatre, actors would prepare for their performances in a room filled with plants and shrubs. It was believed that the moisture in the topiary was beneficial to the actors' voices; this is possibly where the name came from.
Neither Seph nor JQA had been in a green room before this week but now both of them were waiting for JQA’s cue. In their last few moments before JQA went back on TV, Seph wanted to emphasize their deal. Seph could keep JQA on TV, talking to the American people, but the president had to clear his talking points through Seph.
Mitch sat in the studio’s lobby area outside of the sound stage. The room had no less than a dozen televisions displaying at least eight different cable news channels. Most of the channels had people arguing with one another. And even though they were arguing, and even screaming at some points, they weren’t punching each other. Out of ideas, Mitch took out an orange, plastic, smell-proof, pill container. Siting there, with television professionals walking all around, Mitch lit up his first joint of the day.
Seph had a global vision for the future. A new world organization that would be held together, not by a unified military, but by economics. As the world stands, the most powerful countries won’t risk losing influence and the developing countries want fair representation. So rather than granting veto power to dominating nations, representation would be decided by an equation balancing each countries’ economy in terms of buying power and in relative growth from the previous ten years. Each country would choose its own representatives in its own way but the organization would be democratic. The global representatives would serve a single ten-year term, with half of the representatives being changed out every five years. Seph was writing a manifesto on the concept but knew his ideas didn’t matter when he didn’t matter. Making matters more immediately frustrating though, JQA was more his own man than Seph had hoped.
-Your ideas are lacking and I need your watch.
-You don’t know this world, Mr. President. And I don’t have a watch.
-I know the world plenty. I just don’t know why you people don’t have watches.
-Technology, like my cell phone, has made the world smaller and tells me the time.
-Let me borrow your phone.
-As the President of the United States—
-Why not be a representative for the world?
-I have a responsibility to the American people.
-You have a responsibility to all people.
-Give me anything that has a clock,
-Not unless you accept that humanity can no longer be divided as over 200 nations and must come together, united, as one world.
-Shut up, Seph.
JQA left the green room.
Most of the people who walked through the area noticed Mitch sitting there, smoking, but all assumed he knew what he was doing. Perhaps he knew somebody famous. Or maybe he was famous; he looks like an actor. Maybe he’s Westbrook’s son or something. Maybe he has a medical license. Did that matter? You can’t smoke indoors, right? No, they said to one another, I think that’s just cigarettes. That doesn’t make any sense. Why not? You don’t get second-hand smoke from pot. You sure? Pretty sure. Don’t listen to her, she’s not a doctor. Neither are you. Fine, just leave him alone.
Before long, Mitch recognized one of the faces on one of the TVs. When Snow first hired him, Mitch was given a book containing the presidents’ brief biographies for when he had to give the tour. Though Mitch had opened the book up several times with the full intention of reading about the museum’s presidents, he never made it passed the first page. Fortunately, that was all he needed right now because that page contained the biography and picture of the earliest wax president the museum could afford: John Quincy Adams.
Unfortunately for everybody, Polk also saw JQA on TV and was beginning to understand how the technology worked. Polk had been found by Lou and taken back to the make-up room but now walked onto the sound stage without any director or permission and saw the other former president behind a desk with two other political pundits, discussing President Burke’s decision to send troops into Bundai.
Seph was also watching JQA, but on the opposite side of the stage. Seph realized he needed to stop JQA somehow. Something calculated. Something careful. The president was not only going back on his earlier promise, but now was actually doing damage to Seph’s far-reaching ideals. Perhaps the man was deliberately spitting on Seph’s plans. Either way, there had to be a way to get him off TV. While JQA was undeniably spouting his sincere opinions, he was also following the notes he and Seph discussed the previous day. Be passionate, be vague, use short phrases, be a rebel but not a radical and instill a sense of urgency. JQA found it quite easy to recycle rhetoric from the 1820s.
-This world has become increasingly complicated, said JQA. And while America’s survival through centuries of worldly turmoil is a testament to our strength, I fear the status quo will not be enough in these coming years. The government is more corrupt and bloated than every before and now teetering on toothpicks. America can not go abroad in search of monsters to destroy and we can not be divided because of the politics of other nations. We should come together, perfect ourselves within our borders and let that be the example to the world.
-Mister President. It’s time you leave.
JQA and the other two desk jockies looked to the unscripted, outspoken man walking on stage. Seph cringed at this intrusion. He had been planning his own way to interrupt the live broadcast but wasn’t ready to act yet. Seph felt he was playing a game of chess with JQA and now some other old guy was barraging that game--as if dribbling a basketball on a chessboard. Only chaos can ensue. Who was this dribbler? Another president? Did he know JQA before? How did somebody not stop him? Unlike Seph, Mitch did not freeze when the cameras found President Polk and ran into the studio. Indignant, JQA stood up to confront Polk. The other people stood up, too…though with less indignation.
-Who are you?
-I am President James K. Polk and you’re coming with me.
-Polk, huh? Never heard of you.
-You heard of me over a hundred and fifty years ago, so I don’t really care.
-Great, another president.
-That’s right. Another president from another time; which is why we need to go back.
-Absurd. The country needs me more than ever.
-No, it needs new leaders more than ever. Our time is done, Mister President.
-My time is never done.
Only Polk knew how telling this political threat really was. He knew JQA would lose his presidential re-election only to then be elected into Congress and wreak political havoc on his presidential successors. JQA would never step aside. Polk understood JQA saw his own ambition as a patriotic duty. Everything JQA did, he did because he loved America. Whether it meant fighting against taxes or raising taxes, JQA made sure people knew he was willing to sacrifice his life in order to lead people to a better life. Polk saw the opportunity.
-For the good of the nation’s history and future, you must go back to your own time.
-Easy for you to say. Now go away.
Becoming increasingly frustrated, and fearing the confused security would eventually intervene, Polk tried another route. He explained that the world changes faster than people.
-You wouldn’t say that if you truly thought you were the best man in the position.
-I can be the best, but that doesn’t mean I’ll always be the best.
-Mister Polk, the American people will know it and vote you out.
-They won’t have to. I’ll only serve one term as president.
Serve one term as president, thought Seph. Impossible. That’s a betrayal to the man’s political party. It means he has no obligations, it means he can’t put off issues. If he doesn’t care about his own political future or that of his party, how can he be controlled? Even if Polk had similar political views as Seph, he could become a four-year dictator. If you could put a dictator in power who had the same politics as you, would you want to? JQA said Polk’s one-term promise was nothing more than political rhetoric. Polk slammed down his fist on the nearby anchor table.
-All you know is political rhetoric, Polk shot back.
-Oh? So you’re a Jacksonian?
-To hell and back. And the victors in ’28.
-Victors? That whore-marrying, gun-slinging, military chieftain?
Polk grabbed Adams’ jacket with his left hand and pulled him closer while throwing a punch with his right. Adams took a blind, flailing, swing but the other pundits got in the way at this point and someone else took an unintended blow. Security rushed on stage but was foiled by the on-set producers, productions assistants and news commentators--who above all tried desperately to prove their own toughness. Counter-blow after counter-blow in this side-less, televised riot. The more people that tried to break up the fight, the more people that started fighting.
Seph and Mitch pushed and shoved their way to their own respective presidents. Microphones were ripped off and chairs over-turned. Like true professionals, the camera operators stayed behind the camera and the technical director stayed in the booth carefully orchestrating the cameras in a professional effort to catch the most action possible.
It was a few minutes after eleven o’clock and all the way across the city, Emmit, Lily and Blair turned on the TV to see Seph shove the hard-nosed, political commentator Russ Wolfgang backwards over a fallen teamster.
Eventually the on-air, indoor riot was broken apart. Up to six people, including both presidents, were held back and the shouting drained away. Everybody caught his or her breath.
-Should we go to commercial, asked a technical assistant in the editing booth.
-No, the audience can’t think the drama is over, said the director. Keep rolling.
On the set, Seph stepped away from a crowd and really saw Mitch for the first time this day. Seph saw an expression in Mitch he hadn’t seen in anybody for a long time. He saw somebody who was hurt. In the open, in front of everybody, Seph apologized to Mitch. Nobody outside of the half-brothers knew what Seph was apologizing for, but it seemed like a nice gesture. Mitch held up open arms, partially pleading, partially demanding a hug. Seph consented and few people awkwardly clapped, unsure if the cause of the brawl had just been resolved. Eyes and cameras went back and forth from President Polk to President Adams.
-Sir, said JQA to Polk. I am tired of your insolence and grave insults.
-Well I’m just tired of you.
-Fine then. I challenge you to a duel.
-I accept.
Still on screen, Seph covered his face with his hands. Aw shit.
-Okay, said the director in the editing booth. Go to commercial.
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