Chapter 3
Harper Bachmann, daughter of President Bachmann, smiled up at her father as he smiled and waved to the photographers and journalists in front of him. All of them fired questions at him, and each question was about The Hills.
“Where did you find the money to fund this project?”
“That’s the best part,” President Rhett Bachmann said, his voice pouring down onto the heads of the audience like thick, dark honey. “We found an unused, unclaimed piece of land just perfect for a little development. We want our shifter community to be safe and have a place to hunt without being a threat to nearby humans. When my Chief of Staff proposed this location to me, I fell in love right away. It’s a gorgeous expanse of green, with sources of fresh water, plenty of wildlife, and just begging for someone to come and live there.” The crowd murmured appreciatively, and the cameras snapped away. Right on cue, President Bachmann smiled down at his adorable daughter, and the two crinkled their noses at one another as everyone in the room ahead and chuckled at the sight.
Under the table, Harper swung her seven-year-old legs back forth, kicking her black, shiny shoes against the metal legs of the folding chair that she sat in. Her brown hair was looking extra shiny in all the lights, and she was glad she had worn her new, red velvet headband with a flower on the side to go with her red dress. Making sure to smile, she folded her little, manicured hands on the table and looked around the room so that everyone could see the dimple on the right side of her face just like her father’s helpers had encouraged her to do. She was short for her age, so any time she had to attend a public announcement she had to sit on a special cushion that lifted her up a bit. The cushion was a secret; the helpers had explained to her that she couldn’t ever talk about it. She had yet to tell anyone.
A rough-looking journalist in an old, brown coat covered in stains stood up and raised his pen. Bachmann nodded at him. “Yes?”
“President Bachmann, when will the press be invited out to The Hills?”
“I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” the president chuckled. “As we all know, shifters are a highly unpredictable, very violent bunch and are more than happy to kill and eat a human. We’ve separated this population for a reason, Mr…”
“Mr. Nissy, Independent Press. What do you have to say about the allegations that this beautiful location is, in reality, nothing more than desert with no plumbing, electricity, or access to clean water?”
The room went quieted as everyone waited for the president to respond. A man in a dark suit leaned down to the president and whispered something in his ear. The president smiled a nodded up to him. The suited man lifted his chin to the back of the room.
“Now, why would I do that, Mr. Nissy? That simply wouldn’t make any sense. I don’t want them somewhere desolate. That would drive them into the city to hunt – an illegal act if there ever was one.”
As Mr. Nissy listened to the president’s response and quickly took notes, two security guards came up behind him and took hold of his arms. The reporter dropped his pencil to the floor.
“Now,” the president continued, “I have always been a huge supporter of The Independent Press. It’s very important to have an unaffiliated source of media available for the everyday consumer.” As he spoke, the two guards escorted the reporter out of the room while the other journalists watched. “Why, it’s the cornerstone of free speech. In fact,” he continued as all the other reporters turned to him and continued taking notes and snapping pictures, “I encourage all of my constituents to pick up a copy of The Independent Press first thing tomorrow. I will be reading the front page with everyone else. I just cannot wait to see what my favorite publication will have to say about this historic day.”
Harper reached down and pressed her hand into the secret cushion, adjusting her weight. She was sweaty, and her dress was stuck to her legs.
“Excuse me, everyone, but the duties of fatherhood call. My young one requires a snack and a nap, and I think I do as well.” Everyone laughed, and Harper slumped down onto the table at the mention of her afternoon bedtime.
“Daddy, I’m not tired. I’m bored!”
“Me too,” he whispered, giving her a wink. To the crowd, he said, “If you will all excuse us, we have to wrap this up for the day.”
The press gave their usual round of applause as he walked out of the room. Harper turned to wave goodbye to them and got a new round of ohhs and aahs. She spun back around and looked up at her father.
“Daddy,” she said, “how come everybody likes you so much?”
He looked down at her and gave her a sad smile. “Well, I don’t know if everybody likes me. But,” he sighed, lifting her into her spot in their big, gleaming car, “the ones who do like that I help people. That’s Daddy’s job – helping the people.” He closed the door and then walked around to the other side and climbed in.
“I think one day you may have to take over as president. Would you like that, darling?”
“I don’t want to be president,” she said, tapping her toes together in the air above the floor of the car. “Presidents have to work a lot. I want to play all day.”
“Alright then,” Rhett said, scrunching his nose up and touching the tip of it to his daughter’s nose. “You will be a professional fun-haver. You’ll help everyone by making them play.”
She giggled at how weird her father’s face looked so close to hers; his eyes looked more like one giant eye, and his face seemed to spread out into the car. His moustache tickled her, and she snuggled into the corner of the seat. “Stop! Daddy, your moustache.”
“Oh, are you ticklish?” He reached out and tickled the sides of her ribs until she giggled even more. Harper closed her eyes and felt the car careening around the corner and her nerves jump around under her skin. She smelled her father’s cologne and listened to him laugh with her. She was deliriously happy; she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been sad.
The next few weeks were normal ones for Harper. She attended her classes in her small schoolroom with her private tutor and learned how to subtract from numbers as big as thirty or forty, read about sleeping princesses who were woken by a handsome hero, and painted pictures of suns and mountains to carry across the palace to her father’s offices. On her own side, she minded her manners and went to bed without complaint. She saw her father every evening and every morning, made sure to listen to everything he said, and kept a big smile on her face. She didn’t want to give anyone any cause to cancel her Big Day.
The Big Day was a day that Harper had come to love. It was a day when everyone who worked for her father was invited to bring their children to the presidential palace and work on their training. Harper lived for the Big Day, it was the only time that she was surrounded by other young girls and boys and was allowed to speak with anyone she wished. For Harper, it was heaven on earth.
The night before, she laid out a pretty blue dress with the help of her nanny who insisted she would need white tights and a white headband to go with it. Harper clapped her hands at the sight of her clothes all arranged on her big, soft chair.
“It will look so nice! Thank you, Carol Anne.”
“You’re so welcome, my sweetheart.” Carol Anne quickly shifted into a cat and jumped onto Harper’s lap. Harper picked up a brush and stroked Carol Anne’s back. She loved to brush her nanny.
“Carol Anne,” she said, wagging her finger and talking as if she were the adult in the room, “your hair is just an absolute mess. I need to get you all pretty.” She focused on Carol Anne’s ears and then her whiskers, finally touching up the tip of the cat’s long, waving tail. “There. Now you look presentable.”
Harper’s wristband let out a small beep to let her know it was eight o’clock, and Carol Anne quickly jumped down and shifted back into human form.
“Oh, my goodness! The time went so quickly. Come on, let’s go see your father.”
Harper jumped down from the bed with a squeal. “Daddy! Daddy’s home!” She ran through the spacious hall to her father’s rooms, and the security guards quickly opened them up for her. She ran in and saw President Bachmann already kneeling down with open arms. She picked up speed and jumped right into his embrace.
“I missed you, Daddy!”
“I missed you, my perfect little pumpkin. What did you do today?”
Harper quickly recounted her day as she was lifted up and out of the room in her father’s arms. Together, they moved into the dining room and took their seats on either side of the table’s corner. A huge meal was laid out for them with three servants waiting on them.
“Oh my goodness. You had quite a day!”
“I really did. Did you have fun today, Daddy?”
“Well,” the president considered the question as he put his napkin on his lap, “actually, I had kind of a sad day. You see, darling, some bad people are telling lies about your father and just won’t stop. I don’t know what to do.”
“You should tell the truth,” Harper offered, shoving a big bite of chicken into her mouth. “The truth is always best.”
Her father tickled her under the chin and laughed a little. “You are going to make one fine president once you’re grown up.”
“But I don’t want to be president. I told you.” She speared a roasted potato, splitting it down the middle.
“I know you did,” her father said, stopping her hand before she could put another enormous bite in her mouth. “Goodness, you must be growing even bigger. Your appetite is mind-blowing.” He gestured to a waiter who helped Harper cut her food into manageable bites.
“Thank you, Niles,” she said politely, before going back to devouring her delicious meal. Her father watched her a moment and then gave her a big, warm smile.
“I hope you change your mind about running this country, my darling. You know, I got this job from my father who was made president by my grandmother, the founder of our state. You come from a long line of leaders and thinkers. I would be so proud to see you behind my desk.”
“You will, Daddy. I’m coming to work with you tomorrow.”
Everyone in the room laughed a little and the president moved in for a hug with his daughter. “Silly me. I almost forgot about the Big Day. Are you excited?”
She nodded and wiped her milk moustache away with dainty touches of a napkin to her face. “I already laid out a dress and everything.”
“Oh, perfect. I cannot wait to have you walk into Headquarters with me. Everyone just loves to see you.”
Harper crossed her eyes and slumped forward. “Do they like to see me like this?”
Her father stroked his chin and nodded slowly. “You know, I think this could be your new look.” The two of them burst out laughing and went on eating and talking as the staff stood and watched the president and his only living relative put away enough food for a whole family.
The next morning, Harper pulled up to Headquarters with her father in the big, silver car he always rode in. As they stepped out, Harper was thrilled to see that each security guard had a younger, smaller version of themselves holding their hands or standing by with their earpieces in. The doorman was there with his daughter in a matching red coat with gold trim, and the receptionist had her son right next to her, stapling papers and answering the phone. Harper wanted to meet all of them, but there were just too many. She waved and smiled, and they all waved back.
Her heart fluttered in her chest at the sight of them all around her. Other kids! Kids who got to go to a real school and ride on busses and go to the public park. She could hardly believe they were real.
She and her father went with his staff and their children to the big couches in his office for the morning coffee. There, everyone complimented him on all the decisions he had made the day before, laughed at his jokes, and put a stack of papers in front of him. Harper listened to everything they had to say as she sipped her chocolate milk and looked around the room.
In one corner was a boy whose hair was very carefully combed down on top of his head, and dressed in a white shirt and tan pants that looked odd in a way that Harper couldn’t quite figure out. She looked to her father to ask him, but he was busy laughing with all of his office people, so she put down her milk and slid off the couch to talk to him.
“Hi.”
The little boy’s eyes went wide and he was sweating. He nodded and then stammered out. “H-hi. Hi. You’re the president’s daughter. Hi.”
“Yeah, I am. Who are you?”
“I’m Grey. That’s my dad.” He pointed to the man standing nice and tall in the corner. Harper knew that the man had an important job, but she had never seen him do it. The man didn’t smile or wave when Harper waved at him. Rather, he kept his eyes on the president and his meeting as if he were a little bit nervous. The girl shrugged and went back to her new friend.
“What job are you learning today?”
Grey puffed out his skinny chest and grinned. “I’m learning how to be a messenger like my dad. He already let me take one message all by myself.”
“A messenger?”
“Yeah. I can fly in my eagle form. It helps a lot of people. I fly really fast.” Grey spread his arms out and ran around in a little circle and Harper quickly jumped in and ran around with him. She heard her father say her name, but she didn’t stop. She was dizzy with the centrifugal force and the glee of the moment and wanted the moment to last. Her father said her name a couple more times, each time getting a little louder. Before she knew he was standing over her, he lifted her into the air and scared her silent.
“Harper Bachmann,” he said, holding her right at his eye line, “this is not how we behave at Headquarters. Apologize to my staff for your behavior right now.”
Tears welled in Harper’s eyes. She loved playing, but it always seemed to get her in trouble. She took in a big, shuddery breath, and then said, “Sorry, everybody.”
Everyone gave her a sympathetic face and mumbled their forgiveness, assuring her it was fine, but all of that somehow made the moment worse. Her father pulled her in for a hug and addressed the room.
“Excuse us, everyone. I think all of this was a bit more than young Harper was ready for. Excuse me, Floyd?”
The tall man in the corner came to life just as Harper turned her teary face towards him. He gave her a warm smile and walked over. “Yes, Mr. President?”
“I know you’re very busy, but seeing as we have two little ones who really should get to know one another, I’m curious if perhaps I could persuade you to take them out into the garden so that they could get some of this energy out? Who knows,” he added, giving the room a wink, “maybe they’ll be best friends.”
Another big laugh followed Grey and Harper out of the room as Floyd escorted them out the back, and the adults all congratulated the president on another joke well-told. Harper glanced back at her laughing father as the door closed, then shrugged and ran to lead the way out to the garden, daring Grey to try and run as fast as her to the other side of the garden.