It was the day after Memorial Day. It was Mitch’s first day of work since becoming one-fifth of an Internet sensation. It was Mitch’s first tour of the, somewhat limited, historically flawed, wax-heavy, President Exhibit. It was the day Mitch was going to learn by failure. The day he would mess up most. The day he didn’t need extra pressure. It was the day his friends decided to go to the museum and take the tour.
It was Lily’s idea that they all go, though Blair didn’t know “they all” included anybody besides herself until Lily pulled up to Emmit’s place and Emmit got in the backseat. Emmit and Blair both wondered if either had told Seph about the trip to the pet store two days ago, though neither half of the former couple actually did. Both had made a habit out of suspecting Seph knew everything, because it usually seemed like Seph did. Seph, of course, did not know a great number of things but just never reacted shocked when learning shocking details about people’s personal lives, giving the illusion he already knew.
Conversely, Lily didn’t know what she didn’t know but had she known she didn’t know something, she would have desperately wanted to know the unknown. Meanwhile Mitch basked in an occasionally deliberate ignorance and got high an hour ago. All in all this was a common position for the group of friends years ago and was resurrected this day. Seph greeted Emmit and the girls in the museum lobby entrance.
-Hello there. If you plan on drinking, I need to see some I.Ds.
-There’s booze at this museum, Emmit asked grateful to have come along after all.
-No, but you should bring that up to my manager.
-You’re a riot, Seph, you know that?
-Five dollars to get in; the entertainment is free.
-Here I would’ve thought the entertainment would knock off a couple of bucks, sniped Blair.
Everybody paid up and walked to the middle of the main lobby without anybody learning anything more. The floor was made of new tile though not especially nice or grand. An archway, similarly new but not grand, separated the lobby from the hallways of exhibits. An American flag dangled from the archway, as a half-hearted marker of patriotism. A vending machine was in the lobby but food wasn’t allowed inside the rest of the museum. Lily didn’t notice the machine. Emmit noticed all the candy was an absurd buck-fifty. Blair saw the vending machine was fully stocked but had a crack in the glass, undoubtedly from a vain effort to score a free Snickers candy bar.
In the lobby a large man in his late fifties also waited for the tour to begin, while looking through a pamphlet. This silver bear of a man was well groomed and wearing a hundred-dollar vest over a hundred-dollar collared shirt. Also his slacks probably cost a hundred dollars. Next to him was a female companion minus a couple of years. They talked harshly under their breath without looking directly at each other but anybody who could hear them didn’t want to, so their biting conversation remained a mystery.
Mitch walked out of the restroom behind the front desk and smiled upon seeing his friends waiting for him. Already three minutes behind schedule, Mitch jumped right into his role.
-Well hello there, everybody. Welcome to the uh, well, this museum. My nametag’s name is Mitch and I’ll be your tour guide today. This is my first day so please bear with me in case we all get lost in this building. Just joking. Now even though the exits are clearly marked, you may find yourselves getting lost…in history. Of course we won’t be stuck anywhere, out of communication with the rest of the world and dreading the inevitable discussion of when is it appropriate to start talking about unusual sources of food. You then start to wonder if eating your own foot would keep you from starving to death and the idea-
Blair coughed rather loudly, getting Mitch back on track.
-So lets get started! Our journey starts when America was but a child in the world of countries. Well, it was maybe fifty years old, but that’s still pretty new. I mean they didn’t even have radio back then. I think. Maybe one of those big tuba horn things or—
It was the middle-age man’s turn to interrupt Mitch.
-To hell with your preambles, I didn’t come here for your babbling, said the man.
-You didn’t come here for anybody, muttered the woman.
-I came here because we needed to do things in the real world.
-If we can’t afford two movie tickets anymore, I don’t want to be seen in public.
-That’s why you’re still wearing your best outfit?
-I’m tired of your quips.
-You’re tired of being amongst commoners oh great queen.
-I’m going back to Morningsworth.
-No, you’re going back to his goddamn charity.
-Wesley is my husband, and I love him!
-You love his money!
The woman stormed away from the group and out of the museum with her bickering counter-part right behind her. Mitch, Emmit, Blair, Lily and Seph, from the front desk, watched them leave in baffled silence.
-So our first president display is John Quincy Adams. Or as his friends called him…Q-Ball.
-Is that true, Mitch, asked Lily.
-Maybe.
-Stick to the truth, offered Emmit.
-Okay, well, John Q. and A. was our sixth president. He, um. Well, some historians would say he was the most sixth president we’ve ever had. Truly he was the Original Sixth Man.
-Uh, Mitch?
-Yeah?
-Where is the president?
Blair pointed behind Mitch to an empty space in the middle of the life-size, 1820s-style John Quincy Adams diorama. The life-like model was gone from the bedroom-sized, prop-filled, reenactment. Odd, thought Mitch. The president is missing. But JQA couldn’t have just grown legs and walked away. Granted he already had legs, but that doesn’t mean he could still walk away. Mitch remembered how he once saw this robot-table on TV that could fold out and walk around a room. The table would stop walking when people wanted to eat on it though.
Emmit briefly wondered to himself if this whole thing was a part of the tour, and the tour was some kind of role-playing adventure wherein patrons were supposed to find the missing pieces of history or something like that. Seemed kind of stupid. Though Mitch was acting pretty well. Unusually well.
Growing tired of watching Mitch look for clues like a detective school dropout, Blair distanced herself from the group and walked down the hallway lined with other displays of various American time periods and historical figures. The more Blair saw the more Blair became personally interested in the mystery. Whatever problems Blair thought she had with anybody minutes earlier, slowly left her consciousness.
Everything else was there, Mitch pointed out as he walked into the three-walled display himself for a different view. Papers, pens, a clock. Even JQA’s chair was still here.
-Was that his real chair, asked Lily.
-Funny story about that-
-Hey, Phil Marlowe! Blair interrupted again from down the row. All of the presidents are missing.
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