Photo by Krzysztof Hepner on Unsplash
“Hey man, you okay?”
“Uh?” Haley unfocused from the yellow-green subway tiles she had been staring at to notice a black man with a concerned look on his face.
“The Red just left. You are waiting for a train, right?”
“Yes,” she frowned, “that one in fact. I guess I got another hour wait now.”
The man sat uninvited beside her. “Are you okay?”
“The election,” she muttered, dropping her head to stare at her hands.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Maybe, not really.” She shrugged, turning her head to glance at him. “Actually, I wasn’t thinking about the election, not directly.”
“How so?”
The man wasn’t dressed all out. Business casual, but with a thicker jacket to cut the November winds once he climbed out of the station. The stubble claiming his chin didn’t have the male sculpturing into a goatee favored by most, likely he needed to shave twice a day.
Could she trust him? Isn’t that awful? Already worried about casual strangers like a secret police already moved among them to control thought. That shouldn’t happen for another two months, likely three, though the incoming had promised to hit the ground running, being “a dictator for the first day.”
“Just wondering how long Trump is going to last.” She decided to hedge her bets. “I’m worried about him. You know, he had trouble climbing into the truck and his words have been slurring. He is seventy-eight, the oldest person ever elected president.”
The man frowned. “You a trumpster?”
“No, but I … he is a human.”
A snort questioned that opinion.
“No, really. I don’t think he knows what he bit off.”
“And what did he bite off?” Interest laced the baritone voice, raspy from a day’s labor.
“Well, I don’t think he is going to survive in office. Not with Putin in the mix.” Haley turned her body to completely face the man. “Putin doesn’t like unpredictable. He is very calculated. And Trump, well, as he deteriorates, is not going to be predictable health-wise.” Sanity-wise if he has dementia as many people suspected, she thought to herself. “So the question is, how is Putin going to make the situation predictable?”
“By removing the unpredictable elements.” The man answered.
“Exactly!” Touching her backpack with her feet to make sure it hadn’t gone walking as people started gathering for the Green Line, Haley continued, but softened her voice so only he could hear her. “So the question is do you remove him early, before swearing in, or later? Do you take a personal hand in the planning or just suggest things to your American allies? I am betting the removal is mixed in with plans for another Ukraine attack, but he isn’t likely to do much while we head into winter. Maybe. He made his 2022 move in February, so he probably will wait until the swearing in ceremony, at least.”
“That is a lot of question. Almost a chess game.”
“Oh, it definitely is a chess game. You got JD and the rest of the Project 2025 cabal in the mix too. How patient are they? Do they think they got their puppet strings in place, or will his handlers decide to move quickly because they can’t control him? He did deep throat a mic during a rally.”
The man lifted his left hand. “So you think on one hand Putin may make a move from his interests, or he may just imply actions.” Then he lifted his right. “And on the other hand, the people leading Trump around may decide now that they have won, they don’t need him.”
“Right, so do you act immediately, wait until the Electoral College votes, wait for swearing in, or beyond that? Maybe even let a long life of bad food and worse life choices just take care of things for you. But leaving things in God’s hands, well, those who like power rarely leave things up to chance.”
“Those are some deep thoughts. I can see why you missed the train.”
“What do you think?” she asked.
“Hmm, not immediate. Definitely want to get beyond the Electoral College and have everything official. Getting Congress voting in the mix is always unpredictable and, like you said, Putin can’t stand that and, obviously, Project 2025 people like planning things far in advance. And if you go that far, may as well go to the swearing in.”
“Right, right.” Nodding, she thought things out, “So, then, how do you take the unpredictable off the plate as soon as possible after that?”
“And make it look natural.”
“Yes, natural. So a heart attack, but not a big one. Maybe a month in.”
“February. Putin would approve.”
“Right, that would put JD in charge until Trump comes out of it, but he isn’t going to come out of it with full faculties.”
“Of course not.”
“No, the heart stopped long enough for a little brain damage … no, … there is body damage, Trump is going to need physical therapy … and surgery!”
“Surgery?”
“Yeah, of course, he will need a bypass. JD will be instated ‘temporarily’ with full powers while Trump is under the knife.”
“Didn’t that happen in a movie?” The black man pulled out his phone and typed in a question. “Dave … nah, that isn’t it. Sorry, continue.”
“Anyway, Trump … survives? Doesn’t? Really doesn’t matter, because at this point JD and Trump cronies can remove the chaos from the equation.”
“So February. This starts, you think.”
“Yeah, the first emergency will coincide with an attack on the Ukraine, and likely also a Palestine push as well. That is if Putin has his fingers in the mix.”
“He will.” The man shook his head. “I grew up in the eighties when we had been fighting Russia for years. I can’t believe we let them win like this.”
“Want to meet here on February fifteenth to see how close our guesses are to reality?”
“No, I don’t think so.” He stared into the middle distance. “If you are right, I would terrified. And, besides, my wife would have some objections.”
“Why?”
“The fourteenth of February would be Valentine’s Day, but that is a Friday night and would be crazy. I already made reservations for a Saturday luncheon.”
“Sorry not even thinking about the days in February, just a single cat lady.”
“I hear the Yellow Line coming.” The man stood. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope you are wrong.”
“So do I.”
(words 1,087; first published 11/10/2024)