(1964) The Man by Irving Wallace

speak to someone before sleeping and then waking to the terrible fact, and the only one who might care about him, reassure him, was Wanda. As he waited for Wanda, his mind drifted to Mindy. His attitude toward the two of them was one and the same. He avoided taking a wife he needed for the same reason that he did not seek out a daughter he loved. He was black and still afraid.
    “Hello, Doug.” She was calling down to him through a wire from upstairs, and yet she had never been farther away.
    “Wanda, I wanted to—to say good night, before going to sleep.”
    “Doug, it’s overwhelming, the whole thing. What does one say? Do I congratulate you? That sounds wrong.”
    “You commiserate with me, and with the whole country.”
    “No, don’t—don’t talk like that. It’s not true. That accident in Frankfurt was horrible. But it happened, Doug, those things happen. Remember how we once talked about what our families were doing the moment that they learned F. D. R. had died? And how they felt? They felt the world had come to an end, that they were dying, too, that there was no hope. Yet nothing happened to them, or to us. Life went on. Maybe differently than it might have had he lived, but not that differently. Well, Doug, T. C. was a good man, I’m sure, and popular, but he was no F. D. R., and neither was MacPherson. I know you’ll do as well as or better than either. No one is born to be the only one to be President. Thousands of men could be President just as well as the one who fought to get the office. If it had to be someone else, I think it could have been no one better than you.”
    “Wanda, don’t—you know me too well for that—you know my weaknesses—”
    “Everyone has weaknesses, Doug. Be sensible. Stand off and look around. Lincoln had weaknesses, and T. C. had too many to count, and probably dozens we couldn’t see to count. Of course you have weaknesses, but you’re strong enough to handle the job. Don’t discount your strengths. I can’t forget what you refuse to remember. With the kind of background you had, all that poverty, how did you get through the university and then law school? How did you get elected to the House of Representatives four times, and then get into the Senate, and even become its presiding officer? It took something . Doug, it took very much. I know you, maybe as well as anyone knows you, maybe better, and I am positive the whole country—once they get over the shock of the—of T. C.’s death—they’ll see you for what you are, and they’ll be proud of you.”
    “Wanda, Wanda—you’re doing your best, I know—I appreciate it—but, Wanda, I’m black—tomorrow morning 230 million Americans are going to wake up and find their President, one they didn’t elect, is black.”
    “That’s true, Doug. . . . Maybe it’ll be a good thing for them, for the country.”
    “Maybe, but—will they think so?”
    “I don’t know, I don’t know what they’ll think and neither do you. I only know what I think. If you go at this as you’ve gone at everything before, with determination, honesty, learning what you have to learn, acting as you believe best, it will be all right. I’m sure it will work itself out.”
    “You—you sound less certain now, Wanda.”
    “Do I? I didn’t mean to. I guess I’m just concerned about you.”
    “What do you mean? Tell me exactly what you mean.”
    “I mean—please don’t take it wrong, Doug—we know each other too well for that—but—I mean it would be bad, hurtful, if you started off, went into the White House, feeling you don’t belong, feeling you are less than you should be, feeling that way because—because you are colored. Don’t misunderstand me, Doug, but—”
    “I understand you very well. I’ll try not to be like that. I’ll try hard, but—you’re right, I guess—I am afraid. . . . I’m also afraid for us. That’s on my mind, too. I don’t know what the demands or the expectations of the