The Inkwell presents: Facing the Consequences

Heavy is the Head

An Excerpt from What We Cannot Hear
Written by S.A. McKenzie

Joseph Ellis sat in his White House office as snow fell outside his window. The flakes gathered and settled on the panes of glass and the bushes outside, blanketing everything around them with a heavy dampness, muffling the sounds of the city. The cold seeped through the windows and into his bones as he considered what he needed to do today.

Taking a moment to breathe, his fingers trembled slightly as he flipped absently through a file, hardly paying any attention to it. CNN played quietly in the background on the TV in front of him, and the one on the right played C-SPAN. He had minutes to spare before the staff meeting that afternoon, and everything going on made concentrating difficult. Words from a previous conversation rattled around in his mind, and he was so tired of hearing their echo – over and over and over again. He had to make a decision. Whether he wanted to do it or not, that was another story.

He and the President conversed often on the subject, especially after Joseph's daughter came in and confronted him about his relationship with the newly-hired senior consultant, Dr. Spencer Thompson. He was grateful the President was the only one there for that conversation. He expected his secretary would say something and gossip about what she'd heard but, surprisingly, she hadn't said a word. His relationship with Spencer remained a secret. But it was time to let everyone else in on it.

In hindsight, the relationship was probably a bad idea. He could already picture his communication's director up on his moral high horse, talking down to him about how this was reckless and irresponsible, but Joseph couldn't care less. What he did care about was Spencer's reaction to it. He'd even gone as far as planning the upcoming meeting so she couldn't attend. Again, in hindsight, this was a bad idea, but it was time.

He glanced at the clock and took a breath. He had about ten minutes before his staff began trickling in. Then, he had to tell his side of the story. His stomach churning dangerously, the fear percolating there. He tried concentrating on the file he was reading, but the words kept slipping around on the page and he finally just set it down, leaning back in his chair.

A knock on the door pulled him back to the present and away from intrusive thoughts about Spencer; what all this was making him feel, and how scared he was. But, before he could answer it, the heavy oak door swung open to reveal a shock of curly black hair–pulled up in a bright, multi-colored, headscarf, tied off by a bow in front–followed immediately by the radiant, smiling face of Spencer Thompson. Joseph's breath caught in his throat and, for a moment, he felt like he couldn't breathe. She was so beautiful. All he wanted to do was sweep her up in his arms and tell her the truth, tell her what he was planning. But he couldn't. The words stuck there with the breath, and he felt his heartbeat quicken.

Spencer stepped inside the office, awash with warm light from the lamps scattered around it. Her dark eyes shone amber, the light making her deep blue pants suit shimmer as she moved. Every action was infused with power and exuded calm. Despite his pounding heart, he felt more relaxed in her presence, even though his thoughts raged like a storm. Each time she appeared in his office, he was struck by how silently she moved, and he wondered if that was a side effect of her deafness, or if she was just soft-footed.

Whatever the case, her heavily accented voice and the sound of the door shutting pulled him from his reverie, reminding him how to breathe again.

"I heard we were having a staff meeting?"

He immediately made sure she could see his lips clearly as he replied, "We do. You and Ronnie don't."

Spencer's brown eyes narrowed. "We're part of the senior staff."