The Chosen

Yusef sat still. The clock registered a full minute. She was agitated and squirmy. She did not know herself well, and she was high on marijuana. The state had just passed legislation that made it legal. Her body was active and aware, and she had no paranoia that she sometimes experienced in her day-to-day life. She thought about being present. She was always present and remembered the old adage that home is where the heart is. She could journey a million miles away to return without leaving her seat, and so this fine day she was not aware of what was to come.

Her friend Suz was going to come over in a bit. Suz was a practical millionaire who had made money in the 90s and lived off of it since. She spent her days flying from coast to coast and overseas to see attractions and people. She was worldly and meant business about it. She knew places, and faces, and the only thing that knew her was all of them. In her affairs with the world, she often danced and hymned, but she was always counting her day’s schedule and making sure she arrived and left, right when she planned it. She showered every day to blow and curl her mane of hair that was sturdy. She was polite and a real go-getter. Her diet was flown into her monthly so she had a lean physique and steady, calm eyes. It was expensive stuff, not cheap and normal.

The combination of being Muslim and a practicing Buddhist bothered Yusef. She enjoyed meeting with others to plan events in the Cedar-Riverside area of the Minneapolis cityscape. She never left it much, but she loved the events that were religious in nature. She had found an old book on Buddhism two years ago and now laid around trying to figure out what cute euphemism would next come to her mind. She cued the TV to let her know when The Industry would be on and watched the local news every night. I mean, she thought to herself, “keep it local”.

The open window let in a loud conking of feet; she had arrived. Suz opened the door and yelled to Yusef, “I’m ready if you are.” Yusef got off the couch and stretched. She put on her black flats. She took another bite of the marijuana gummy and struggled to walk to the door. She opened it and exited the home. She walked down the stretch of sidewalk to Suz’s Tesla, which she kept on lease. She opened the door and hopped in, she swore she had conjured it to purchase it.

“Have you eaten yet?”, asked Suz. “I have enough tokens to buy us dinner at the Foshay Tower at lunch.” Yusef, who was already not paying attention, looked out the window and nodded, “Yeah, let’s do it”. They began to drive. Suz ordered Yusef a latte and studied her. “You up late again last night?” Yusef yawned. “Yeah, I was up most of the night.” “Figures,” said Suz.

She studied the menu. “Tell me you’ve been here before,” Suz asked. Yusef looked up from the menu and looked around the hotel. “I don’t really know. I am around this city so much I cannot tell you where I have been and who I have met.” Suz laughed. “You owe me one.” Yusef looked at her. “That’s a new one, friend. I owe you one? I work my tail off supporting legislation that supports others’ lives and dignities; however, not everybody buys me lunch. Today is the first day in a long series of events; it’s why I called you. I am the “new-old blood” of this session. I fly to DC in four hours, (she looks at her watch) and I could use hamburger and fries.” “Eat up, friend,” Suz smiled as she looked down at the menu to find her own lunch.

The bitter snow had begun to fall. Yusef hopped out of the car. She studied the human traffic and thought of her bed in DC. Its crisp covers and warm comforter; she felt like being there already. A businessman with glasses and a briefcase was fast approaching her. She greeted him with a warm smile. “Hi there Yusef,” the man cooed. She smiled and nodded. “You must be catching the afternoon flight to DC. I just had to say something when I saw you. You know us Minnesotans didn’t trust you at first but now we are thankful to know you every day of our lives.” “Ah, thank you, sir.” She smiled. “It is my pleasure to serve the people of Minnesota.” “Nice sneakers Yusef.” (he winked and smiled.) She smiled. “Always up with the times. That’s my American side. Well I better run. What’s your name, sir?” she asked. “It’s John Carhandson.” “Thanks, Mr. Carhandson. You take care now,” she smiled and tapped her roller luggage. “You too Yusef; you don’t look a day over 21,” he said. “I hear that sometimes; we will see you later, Mr. Carhandson.” She started to walk away and no longer addressed him.

Molly stepped out of the elevator. She was from Kentucky and had never left the state before. She was assigned to work in Congress and was the brightest and best of her graduating class. She enjoyed fitting in, however one looks at it, and this new experience was a big step forward in her adult life. She had wanted to end abortion and she had wanted to give the Supreme Court guaranteed immunity from Congress taking hold of them. She knew that she had to intern for a year, and then she could get found by some elder statesman who may give her a chance. She was a newbie and had to prove herself like so many other people who led. She signaled her mentor, and they walked to her side. His name was Marty Johnson; he was a super genius, in her eyes, and he came from Kansas. His only goal was to end the reign of liberal power in Congress. He greeted Molly and smiled. “How is Molly today?” She smiled at him. “Ready to take the bull by the horns.” “Well, remember, newbie, there is old blood here that is waiting for a rumble. Let’s get busy. Contact the press secretary and tell them tomorrow’s agenda.” “Will do.” Molly left his side to affirm all of tomorrow’s plans with the press secretary.

She entered the press room. Standing there was Yusef Ali in her formal Muslim apparel and sneakers. They had never met before. Molly stood there looking at her; they were the only two in the room. “Can I help you with anything?” Yusef smiled at Molly. Molly stood looking at her; she knew Yusef, but Yusef did not know her, to her. “Uh, yeah, I am just looking to file the schedule for tomorrow with the press secretary.” “Right over there, kid.” She pointed at the big oak desk with shelves and notes. “Thanks.” Molly walked over to the desk. She pretended like she needed help because she did not know how to address Yusef. She was a huge name in Congress and on Molly’s opposition’s side. Molly exited the room after giving Yusef a quick thank you.

Molly walked down the corridor. Her heels clicked as she walked with confidence. She was done for the day and could not wait for the floor debates tomorrow on the hot issues this season. She, like so many other young people, had waited for her day to make it to the great city of DC. When she was a girl, she had hopes to be here, and she was so excited in the new role. She was hesitant to do much and knew that others led the way, but maybe someday she could be like them.

Yusef studied the girl leaving the room. She thought about her days in Congress and how typical the young woman was. It was like they could be taken in a blind alley and still act and look alike. She chuckled. The American system she worked under was a complex maze, and it never settled down. She knew the young woman’s name; it was Molly, and she was a fiery young cadet of the other side. What a kick, she thought. She straightened her garment and left wondering, like so many others, where the world would lead this session.