22 November 1963. The Secret Service agent studied the leaden skies above the city. It was going to pour with rain; that hadn’t been in the forecast, plans would have to be changed.
He was quickly on the walkie-talkie. ‘You need to put the plastic bubble top up on the president’s convertible before he sets out,’ he told the guy in charge of the motorcade. ‘They’ll get soaked if you don’t.’
The guy wasn’t so sure. ‘President Kennedy wants everyone to see him. There’s an election coming, he needs the votes.’
The agent snapped, ‘There’ll be nobody there. This is Dallas, he’s not liked here and no-one’s coming out in the rain to cheer a Democrat. Don’t worry what he thinks, just do it. I reckon he’ll thank you when he finds out what you’ve done.’
As if on cue, the heaven’s opened and the president and his entourage set off in a deluge.
It was a slow procession as the limousines slithered through the city, down the High Street, then into Elm Street and pass the Dealey Plaza. Mrs Kennedy was startled by two loud thumps that seemed to hit the car’s roof but she continued smiling and waving at those supporters who had braved the rain.
They got to the lunch at the Texas Trade Mart a couple minutes behind schedule. President Kennedy’s speech (the usual politician on the election stump stuff) made a minute on the local TV news and the party flew back to Washington DC.
Words: Richard Rooney
Illustration: A.I.
Flash Fiction 250
Flash Fiction 250 