Chapter 3

At 1:55 sharp the next afternoon, Karen, Rob, and I were ushered into the Oval Office at the White House for a few minutes of private conversation with the President before the ceremony.
    The President said, “I thought we’d take advantage of the warm weather and hold the ceremony in the Rose Garden, Mr. Genet. Will Ms. Genet be joining us?”
    “She’s at the Pentagon negotiating a book contract, Mr. President, but I expect her any minute.”
    The President talked to the kids while we waited. At two o’clock, an aide appeared at the door to the Oval Office. The President nodded acknowledgment and said to me, “We should get started.”
    “Just a few more minutes, sir. I know my wife will be here any second.”
    “Sure,” he said graciously.
    Karen was curious about everything—what the buttons on the telephone were for, who the people were in the pictures on the credenza behind the President’s desk…”
    At 2:05, the aide reappeared at the door and pointed to his watch. The President said, “Mr. Genet, we really must get started. Ms. Genet will be brought directly to the Rose Garden the moment she arrives.”
    Rob said, “Please, Mr. President, I know my mother will be here.”
    “Okay, young man. We can wait a few more minutes.”
    At 2:10, the aide was at the door for the third time. This time he spoke. “Sir, you have a full schedule this afternoon.”
    The President said, “Mr. Genet, I’m sorry but we can’t delay any longer.”
    Rob started to say something, but I interrupted. “I understand, Mr. President. You’ve been very patient. Let’s get started.”
    The TV lights blinded us as we stepped to the podium in the Rose Garden. I peered into the visitor’s section to catch a glimpse of Ben Sachs, but the glare from the lights made it impossible to see him.
    I heard only the clicking of the photographer’s cameras as the aide directed me to stand to the President’s left. Rob stood next to me and I held Karen in my arms.
    The President spoke into the microphone. “We are a diverse nation—intellectually, spiritually, and culturally—and it is in the spirit of this diversity that we award the Medal of Freedom to one whose faith differs from our own. Paul Genet’s idea that we create the universe through the stories we tell is certainly a minority view. Yet, one of the things that makes America a great nation is the rich diversity of views which are guaranteed free expression under the Constitution.”
    Karen squirmed in my arms. “Daddy, I want Mommy.”
    “Mother’s running late, sweetheart.”
    The President continued. “We also honor Paul Genet for his spirit of innovative thought which is a hallmark of a free economy. We must encourage this spirit in the nation’s cultural, economic, and scientific endeavors if we are to remain competitive in the twenty-first century and beyond.”
    “Daddy, I want Mommy.” Karen spoke loud enough this time for the microphone to record her complaint.
The President placed the Medal of Freedom ribbon around my neck. When I started to put Karen down so I could acknowledge the award, she protested.
    “No, Daddy, you hold me.”
    “Karen, Daddy has to speak.”
    Rob said, “C’mon, Karen. Stand with me.”
    “No! I don’t want to. Don’t put me down, Daddy.”
    I continued to hold Karen as I spoke into the microphone. “Mr. President, our strength as a nation resides in our diversity and in leaders like yourself who have the courage to recognize that great ideas always begin as minority viewpoints…”
    “Mr. Genet! Mr. Genet!” A reporter stood to be recognized.
    The President’s aide placed his hand over the microphone. He whispered to the President who nodded and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, the press will have an opportunity to interview Mr. Genet later.”
    The reporter said, “Mr. President, this ceremony is Paul Genet’s moment. Please allow him to respond while we have live national coverage.”
    The President looked at his watch. “Okay, one or two questions, but be brief.”
    The reporter identified himself as Bert Jones of the Louisville Post. “In his new book, Ben Sachs says you will tell the next great Power Fiction.
    However, in her review of Sach’s book, Helen Johnson points out that, at forty-five, you’ve only written one book—and that was five years ago.
    “Does she fairly criticize you as a washed-up, flash-in-the-pan?”
    The President winced.
    “Tomorrow I meet with my publisher to sign a contract for my second novel.”
    “Will it top You Are God?”
    “You know I can’t answer that. My publisher would have my head if I jumped the gun on publicity.” The retort brought a laugh from the press and a slight smile of relief from the President.
    “Ms. Johnson goes on to say that you received the Seminal Prize for Literature because the committee was overreacting to criticism that it only awarded the prize to established authors long past their prime instead of rewarding the best literary work of the year. Do you agree?”
    “That’s an issue you’ll have to take up with the Seminal Prize committee.”
    Another reporter stood and introduced himself as Tony Bell of the San Diego Dispatch. “Johnson’s article says your idea that humans are God undermines our entire Judeo-Christian heritage…”
    The President winced again.
    “It’s fiction. Lighten up.”
    “But, sir, you’re on record as saying everything is fiction.”
    The President leaned forward to the mike. “Mr. Genet will be available later…”
    “Mr. President, you’ve allowed two white males to ask questions. I request equal time, sir.”
    The President sighed, “One final question.”
    “Mr. Genet, I’m Rita Morales of the Miami Courier. Is there any connection between your spouse’s failure to be here today, and the fact she’s been seen having intimate dinners with Derek Somers?”
    “Sara Genet is a literary agent. Mr. Somers produces movies. They met when she was trying to sell the screenplay for my novel.”
    “Rumors are that she and Somers are having an affair.”

Chapter 3 continued