Goines On: About face

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The dream Goines had just awakened from was still vivid. A maga-church had opened in town. A broad neon sign beneath its curious, presidential cross – presidential because the top of the cross’s vertical was missing – blazed the name, “Church of the iMAGAlate Conception.” A cavalcade of black SUVs paraded around the packed, many-acre parking lot and came to a halt when the second vehicle was abreast the main entry walk. President Donald Triump stepped out and only nodded at the thousands of parishioners craning their necks for a look, for a meeting of their eyes with the eyes of their hero. Their disappointment was audible as the President made his way solemnly to the entrance and to the podium facing the 2,000 occupied chairs of the auditorium.
    What happened then had seemed inconceivable: President Triump said he was sorry for El Paso, for the shootings there. “I’m sorry,” he said. And there was no teleprompter. He seemed to really mean this. “I came here today to renounce and disavow all of my previous encouragements of the ‘fine people’ in the KKK and in other racist groups. I apologize for what I said about President Obama, where he might have been born. I am sorry for ‘Lock her up’ and ‘Send them back’ and ‘shithole countries’ and ‘Knock the crap out of him.’ All of that was wrong,” he said. “I was wrong. I apologize. Please forgive me.”
    You could feel the resistance of the crowd – you could feel it if you were having the dream with Goines. Walking down from the podium and back to the entrance was like braving a thick wave of ocean. The President heard jeers and saw raised fists. He felt the heat of betrayed anger, the wrench of confusion among the MAGAlites.
    It was the same outside – worse than the same, far more people. The thousands of MAGAlites who couldn’t get into the auditorium had seen and heard President Trump’s announcement on a gigantic video board the iMAGAlate pastor had been given by the National Football League. The crowd here were close to their cars and vans and pickups. And it might have been Sunday, but some of those vehicles carried firearms. Rifle shots rang out. The President crouched down and several Secret Service agents rushed to surround and cover him and speed him to the awaiting vehicle. Two of the agents went down, mortally wounded.
    Goines’ dream quickly shifted to a news announcement on TV. It was Sean Hannity, and he was livid. “It was what those two agents deserved. They deserved to be killed, defending a traitor like that. And Triump’s time will come. It will surely come. He can’t let us down like that. We won’t let him get away with this betrayal.”
    That was when Goines woke up. Had it been a nightmare, and not a dream? And what distinguished a nightmare from a dream, anyway, he wondered.

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