It only took a few days before people started demanding that short-stringers be barred from purchasing guns, and Anthony took it upon himself to begin drafting the legislation. Even the science seemed to be on his side. The same week that Anthony set to work on his bill, a team of Japanese and American scientists dropped a bombshell on the world: an updated version of their string measurement site. No more windows of several years, no more estimates or ranges. Now there was a single number. A specific age for everyone’s death.
Thanks to the addition of the last six months of data, people could now measure the length of their strings down to the very month.
The more precise the technology, Anthony thought, the more easily the short-stringers could be regulated.
“What a great day it’s been.” Anthony smiled as he slipped off his blazer. He didn’t notice his wife right away. “This new ban on short-stringers buying guns might be the first piece of gun legislation to actually get through Congress in years. It’s unbelievable.”
“I’m not so sure that we should keep going after them,” Katherine said, her voice carrying into the hall.
“Going after who?”
“Short-stringers.”
Anthony was taken aback. He stepped into the living room to see his wife, seated dolefully on the antique sofa. “Where is this coming from?” he asked.
“Well, it almost got you shot recently, and I just don’t think we’ve thought through all the consequences.”
Anthony knew the shooting had unnerved her, despite the fact that the bullet never came close to either of them. Perhaps he hadn’t realized just how much she worried.
“We both have very long strings,” he said, trying his best to sound soothing. “We’ll be fine. The strings are proof.”
“That’s not nearly as comforting as you seem to think it is,” Katherine said. “That only means we won’t be killed. There are plenty of other bad things that can happen to a person.”
“We both chose a life in politics,” he said. “We knew what we were getting into.”
“Well, maybe this particular route . . . using the strings . . . isn’t the way anymore.”
“Are you forgetting that it was your idea to go after Wes Johnson’s string in the first place? I’ve just been following through. And why are you questioning something that’s been working so well for us?”
“Jack came to visit today,” Katherine finally said. “He told me he has a short string.”
Anthony sighed and sat next to his wife, taking her hand gently. “That’s terrible. He’s a good kid.”
“I know he is, which is why I can’t understand why this would happen to him! Or to my brother. Our family has only ever done good things for this country, and this is how we’re repaid? My brother has to lose his only child? After that hippie already abandoned him to raise Jack alone! And, after all those years of hard work of carrying on my father’s legacy, Jack gets relegated to some pathetic corner of the military until he dies before he even turns thirty? How is any of that fair?”
Anthony let his wife cry for a minute, while he figured out what to say.
He couldn’t let this derail them, especially now, when his momentum was reaching its crest. He needed Katherine by his side. Ever since they met in college, when he was a senior with his sights set on law school and she was just a sophomore, he knew that she was his match. She shared his dreams and ambition, and her background was truly unsurpassed. Her family could trace its lineage back to the American Revolution, for fuck’s sake! It’s why he tolerated her initial prudishness, her occasionally overbearing self-righteousness. She had all the necessary pedigree and social graces to succeed, plus the stomach to do what it takes. After she “accidentally” spilled her coffee on his opponent two minutes before the college debate finals, he told her that he loved her.
Katherine believed in him. She believed in them. She had always been an asset. Anthony wouldn’t let her become a liability now.
“Your family is very strong,” he said. “You’ll get through this.”
Katherine reached for a tissue to wipe her nose. “But what if it’s a sign that we should . . . reevaluate things?”
“You’re just upset right now. And understandably so,” Anthony continued calmly. “But this doesn’t change anything. We’re so close to the White House, I can taste it. We deserve this. Both of us.”
“And you think Jack deserves what’s happening to him?” Katherine asked, disturbed by his seeming indifference.