c. 2024 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(4-24)
Governor Mark Moerlein had been at his desk in Columbus for only a few minutes on Monday morning. He was dressed for a golf outing scheduled later in the afternoon. But before indulging himself in leisure activities, he had to sort through messages and postal mail, left at his office. After years in charge of his state, he had grown fatigued with the duties of leadership. Yet the title was not one he wished to yield, prematurely.
Digging deep into the pile of documents, he was suddenly interrupted by an aide from the reception counter, outside. A young woman who was built like a broomstick, Stacey La Cenza. With bleached-out strands flowing over her shoulders. And an attitude of youthful energy.
“Sir, I have a call on line one for you. A member of the Royals & Nobles Association Registry, Buckeye Regals Division. Their head of archiving. Will you speak with him, please?”
The elected official had been in a funk since having his coffee, just after sunrise.
“Royals? What the heck? I’m busy in here, Stace! Tell them to call back later...”
His assistant pleaded for cooperation. Her voice sounded like a bird with its beak stuck in a can of Pringles.
“Sir, this individual has been badgering me all morning! I would really appreciate you answering his call!”
The governor relented after a loud sigh of protest. He picked up the landline receiver by his daily calendar, and coughed before speaking.
“This is Mark. How may I help you today?”
There was a wheeze of senior endurance over the line. Then, a tone that reverberated with dignity.
“Governor, my name is Hayton Rawlings III. I am in charge of the BRD here in our capital. We track royal bloodlines in America. Did you know that thousands of citizens in Ohio have some connection to the great ruling families of Europe, Asia, and Africa?”
Moerlein cleared his throat. He was puzzled by the query.
“Well no, I never gave it much thought actually...”
Rawlings was not deterred by this admitted lack of interest. He continued to explain the cause for outreach in greater detail.
“I am sure that you are aware how popular former chief executive Donald J. Trump is in our state. Many citizens would gladly have him in the Oval Office, in Washington, right now! His proclamations carry great importance. They transcend politics, and the discipline of business. To be more specific, he is related to Danish and Norwegian royalty. Were you aware of that curious fact?”
The state leader stifled a yawn. He had already lost patience with his inquisitive petitioner.
“Hayton, I know all about the MAGA crowd. They helped me win a second term in charge of this state. I stroked them hard in the last campaign! I’ll do it again to help my successor, whoever that turns out to be...”
The caller laughed softly. He was gladdened by the candor of this confession.
“So, Mr. Moerlein, you are aware that President Trump has only become more popular since his first term. Investigations, impeachments, and indictments haven’t dimmed the glow of his raucous personality. That is why I contacted you today. There is a bundle of signatures here, in our library, from people all over your great territory. Citizens who learned about the royal connection with this man, and decided that it should be honored in some special way. If you agree, then we can discuss a plan I have in mind. One that would benefit my organization, and your own career, after leaving office.”
The governor rubbed his eyes and battled to stay in focus.
“Plan? You have a plan that involves me and the former commander-in-chief?”
Rawlings sharpened the dramatic nature of his approach.
“The petition before me is quite unique, I think! What your voters want is a formal recognition of Trump’s royal lineage. A title of honor to enhance his standing, all across your realm, and this continent. Their proposal is that you sign an executive order immediately, declaring that POTUS 45 is now ‘King of Ohio!’ A ceremonial position, like those held by members of the British monarchy. Do you understand? It would bind all of your subjects together, as a single, respectful, homogenous group! Something that would put your state above every other entity in the union!”
Governor Moerlein exhaled so violently that paperwork began to fly off his desk.
“KING OF OHIO? ARE YOU MAKING A JOKE? TELL ME THIS IS A PRANK CALL FROM ONE OF THGOSE RADIO STATIONS IN CLEVELAND OR CINCINNATI!”
The royal archivist took exception to this line of thinking. He was clearly offended.
“Sir, your reaction troubles me greatly! Don’t you see what an opportunity we have, to break out of the doldrums here? America has been cheated by its own success. We don’t have kings and queens, or dukes, princes, and such. That strata of social hierarchy has been lost in our cowboy history. This is a chance to meet the political realities of your state, head-on! You talk about stroking people for their support? Well here you go, think of the harvest you may reap! Your name will be associated with a royal figure, given to the people! A genuine, red-white-and-blue potentate on American soil!”
The elected statesman clutched his belly, and felt nauseous.
“You’re one of the morning guys on WEBN-FM, right? Or maybe a disc jockey from WMMS. I knew it! Ha ha ha, good job with the puns and trickery. You’ll run the tape on your next broadcast, right? I admit it, you caught me completely off guard...”
Rawlings huffed with fury. He could not bear having his reputation assailed so carelessly.
“I’m going to end this conversation with a promise, Mr. Moerlein. The bundle of signatures will be on your doorstep by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll have a courier deliver it in person. After that, there are members of the press waiting to hear about this story. I’ll delay any interviews to allow time for you to make preparations. Good luck, dear chum! Choose wisely from your options. And may I say it out loud, ‘God save our king!’”
Their connection went dead with a slam of the handset in its cradle.
Stacey wailed inquisitively from her perch at the reception counter. Her squeaky voice echoed through the intercom system.
“How did that go, sir? What did he want so early in the morning? A donation or something?”
The governor had turned completely red. His face burned hot, like fireplace coals.
“NO, HE WANTED ME TO OFICIALLY CROWN A MONARCH, HERE IN COLUMBUS. A NEW HEAD OF STATE, SOMEONE ABOVE ME IN EVERY WAY, EXCEPT AT THE BALLOT BOX! A REAL KING... A CORONATED KING... A RULER FROM LAKE ERIE TO THE RIVER... THE KING OF OHIO!”
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