From: gwb
To: Hank Blakely
Sent: Monday, July 22, 2002
Subject: How my trust got ruptured


One time -- I was twelve, maybe thirteen -- I was playin' ball and somehow got a base hit -- somethin' that happened a little less often than Christmas. I'm 'roundin' second -- prob'ly with a desperate look in my eyes -- when Butch Beaufort, who didn't like me much at all, shags the ball and rifles it square where my legs come together.
 
At moments like that, when you is curled up like a caterpillar, the old world kinda fades away for a minute or two and a new one takes its place. For example, I commenced to thinkin' that ever'one standin' over me was conspirin' 'gainst me -- which, as a matter a' fact they usual was, but somehow it seemed different this time -- more personal-like. Maybe 'cause they all 'peared to have red eyes and fangs.
 
This week I had occasion to remember that occasion when I started noticin' that ever'body 'round me seemed kinda unreal -- I don't mean like the usual way that ever'body seems unreal to me, but more like they wasn't actin' the way they was thinkin'.
 
At first I thought it was just my imaginin', then I started wonderin' if I wasn't goin' crazy or gettin' Al Zimer's disease or somethin' like that. After a while I come to realize that my head wasn't no worse off than usual, and that folks was actin' strange.
 
I first noticed it 'round the time Ashcroft was tellin' me 'bout "Operation TIPS" -- the Terrorism Information Prevention System. Now maybe you ain't heard a' this, but it kinda grew out a' the Citizen Corps idea they had me say in my brilliant State a' the Union thingey. The idea is to turn ever'body into little James Bonds -- have 'em watchin' ever'thin' and ever'body and each other, just to see if somethin' fishy is happenin'. Do that long enough and somethin's bound to turn up.
 
It works best though with people where they jobs take them all around, like pizza delivers, pole-climbers and milk-men -- if they still got those.
 
I asked Ashy how we'd guard 'gainst people reportin' untrue stuff 'cause they didn't know no better or 'cause they was vindictin' somebody. He said people 'd have to use their common sense. I asked him if there wasn't maybe no other safeguards we could add to it, but he couldn't think a' none right then.
 
What had Ashy most upset was that the Postal Service had just turned him down and said they didn't want to be no little James Bonds. Well, Ashy quick got to thinkin' that that itself was very suspicious, and maybe their loyalty needed some fine-tunin', which he was more than willin' to assist them with. "I'll bet you find somebody named 'Ahmed' working down there," he said, and then he went off to line up more support for his idea amongst the other WH folk.
 
A few days later I was chit-chattin' with Andy Card, my Chief a' Staff, and he mentioned in passin' a puzzlin' increase in requisitions for items like recorders, digital cameras and highlighter pens (!!!). I didn't think nothin' much 'bout it then.
 
It wasn't 'til the Cabinet meeting next day, when I noticed things goin' a little weird. For one thing, didn't nobody look nobody else square in the eye no more. And then whenever somebody 'd say somethin', Elaine Chao 'd turn her handbag towards 'em. 'Nother time I seen how Condi snuck Colin's empty water glass into her purse when he wasn't lookin' And a lot uvvem was doin' the same thing with each others' pens and pencils and the like. Also, whenever I'd say somethin' ever'body 'd pay attention to me and take notes -- two things they never done before. And I noticed, when I stood next to Rummy I'd hear this strange little noise, it go: "whirrrr-TICK!" it went, "whirrrr-TICK!"
 
Next day ever'body come to the Cabinet meetin' wearin' gloves.
 
A day later I seen Christie Whitman sneakin' out a' Karl's office. She was dressed in a huge overcoat and hat, and had on a big beard and mustache.
 
Didn't nobody in the WH seem to act towards each other how they used to. Now ever'body seemed to be pryin' into ever'body else's never-minds: "Oh," somebody 'd say, "so you went to that restaurant? So who went with you and what did you talk about?" Or, "What are you reading these days, exactly?" And like.
 
After a while people started travelin' in pairs and callin' attention to where they was and what they was doin' at that moment. But even then it ain't as much togetherness ''round here as it used to be. Seems like ever'body's watchin' his or her own back and ever'body else's hands.
 
Worse thing is, whatever's goin' on seems to be takin' my marriage a little south with it. Laura don't talk to me 'bout her day as much as she use to, and if I look up sudden I'm apt to find her starin' at me like I is a picture that needs straightenin'.
 
I also wonder if I'm not startin' to imagine stuff after all. Yesterday Dick let me knock off early and a' course I headed straight back to take my nap. When I opened the bedroom door, Laura was sittin' by my side a' the bed. Soon's she heard me she jumped up all flustered. She didn't say nothin', just smiled one a' them quick little smiles and rushed out a' the room. I was too tired to think it out, so I just shrugged and climbed under the covers. When I reached for my bedtime readin' -- this week it's The Hungry Caterpillar again, my favorite sleepy-time book -- I noticed my night stand was covered with a fine black powder.
 
What seemed kinda like what they use for fingerprintin'.