Madame President

By Wee Dilts

If you enjoyed Return of the Anasazi and Who Bought Joe Willie the Presidency?
You will love Madame President.
Dilts continues to fast pace her fantasy books into tales that keep the pages turning.
She has captured with tongue-in-cheek the absurdity of the current political scene while
blending in some intellectual spiritual messages.
Another great read.
D Koscielecki
I thought she had done it with Joe Willie. This is a great read. If you enjoy real characters
that come alive and move like real people. You'll love Madame President.
I can't wait to see what she does next.
S. Finch
Lillian comes into woman hood in a most peculiar set of circumstances. I loved her.
She was witty, searching for meaning, confident in a man's world.
We should have such a president.
L. Davidson

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wee Dilts
• Release date: Apr 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781497743458

Wee Dilts

Here’s the incredible story of how Wee Dilts came to write these dynamite self help E courses. Wee started as a physical education teacher. Her awareness of the need for a special “Opportunity P.E.” classes for the potential drop out students led her to create such a class and programs today are  modeled after her pilot program. She next earned degrees in counseling and psychology and spent the next several years counseling, her special interests automatically drew her to the troubled fringe group. She then developed a curriculum of four classes for these students, whereby many graduated that would certainly have slipped through the cracks without this program. Wee met her own crisis with alcohol. For thirty plus years she has been a sober member of Alcoholics Anonymous. Simultaneously with sobriety she began the study of New Age Metaphysical teachings. She writes self help articles and ebooks based on these philosophies. When she switched careers to Real Estate, Once again she saw a need for a Flat Fee Multiple Listing program which would help For Sale by Owners save money. She created the first such Flat Fee Real Estate Franchise. She wrote the Training manuals which are now available at http://changeyourlifeebooks.com    You can readily see she has the life experiences and training to give you expert guidance and show you How to Change Your Life. That’s what we offer here at  Change Your Life E books.

Book preview

Chapter One

IC interrupted its evening news – "This announcement just in. It has been confirmed

that the former Presidential candidate, Joe Willie Benton, was discovered dead at his ranch in Sedona, Arizona.

"Authorities believe his death to be a suicide. There is no confirmation yet, but sources close to the Benton family hinted that he may have committed suicide.

"His body was discovered today by his long-time companion and houseman Carl Jones. No one at the Benton ranch was available for comment.

"Conspicuously unavailable for comment were his widow, Lillian Strom-Benton, and his vice-Presidential running mate, the Senator from Utah, Dwayne Rogers.

"We will bring you details on this breaking news as information comes in.

In the meantime, President Elect George Blair and his First Lady are hosting party leaders in their Colorado Springs home. They are in the process of selecting the President’s new Cabinet members... PIC will stay on this breaking story and bring you

up-to-the-minute news as it occurs. Stay with PIC, your Political Information Center."

Senator Dwayne Rogers from Utah watched her walk along the beach, the white sand contrasting with her dark hair and dark mood. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. Lillian Strom-Benton, with her jet-black hair and emerald eyes that turned a

man to putty, possessed never-ending legs made for a centerfold. Rogers ached as he watched her, not only with desire but with compassion. He sensed her internal conflict, her confusion which caused her usually smiling face to grow pensive. Dwayne thought

he might be in love with her.

A small bird on the railing cocked his head and waited for Dwayne to share his morning donuts. The blue-gray bird had become braver since they’d arrived.

Each morning he came a little closer to the tempting fresh-baked donut.

Dwayne looked at him. The bird cocked his head to the other side and blinked. Cautiously, he hopped a bit closer. Dwayne smiled and broke off a bite of the donut and pushed it along the rail toward him. The bird grabbed it and flew away with his morsel. They are a lot like people. Dwayne thought, They grab what they want and then beat it.

He returned his attention to Lillian, who sat on the sand looking out at the blue Pacific. Her father, Governor Strom’s, Hawaiian condo sat on lush green lawns, and in the morning snails the size of Utah pine cones crawled across the dewed grass. In their wake they left slimy trails. Dwayne wondered why people were so taken with this place; he much preferred the arid states, Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico. The

clean dry air was easier to take than the humid, sweet-smelling air of Hawaii.

It was Lillian who had insisted they come to this place. She said she could think better when she was near the water. She had expressed her need to sort out the direction of her life. She said she needed to think.

Dwayne knew the Presidential campaign had been emotionally draining for her, and it had come to an unexpected, nasty end.

Dwayne went inside and listened again and again to the message from Janice Benton. At last he punched the discard button. He decided he would tell Lillian later that Joe Willie had killed himself and had been laid to rest on the plateau with his stallion, Studder, and Devil Dog. Lillian refused to read a newspaper or watch television; consequently, Lillian didn’t know that Joe Willie was dead, let alone that he had taken his own life. She would probably feel guilty. Dwayne would tell her later. Now, to complicate matters, he held the damn letter from Janice. It was one thing to discard a message, but to throw away someone’s mail — even Dwayne thought that a serious invasion of one’s privacy. He turned the letter over. He walked back to the balcony and watched Lillian.

Janice and Governor Benton had adopted Joe Willie when he was five, and even though he was a hard person to love, Janice had stuck by him. Dwayne well knew that Janice was one of the few people who truly loved Joe Willie. She was also Lillian’s mother-in-law and her friend. Damn it. I’ll have to give Lillian the letter.

A large golden retriever joined Lillian on the sand; she stood up and threw the stick he’d brought her into the frothy water near the beach’s edge. The retriever jumped and fetched. Lillian threw the stick again and again; she didn’t notice or care that every time the dog returned he shook himself and wet her clothes.

Lillian sat on the white sand and stared out at the azure blue sea. The retriever took his stick and trotted down the beach. She watched the waves as they crested and crashed one after the other. Lillian knew she should call home and see how Joe Willie was; after

all, they had been husband and wife of sorts for, what?

Fifteen or sixteen years? She couldn’t remember. She should talk to Janice. Damn, it seemed she spent her whole life doing what others needed her to do. Just now she needed to be alone to think. To hell with all of them.

Lillian recalled Tom Lacy’s handsome face, with his runaway lock of black hair which fell over his forehead, and she remembered the most intense blue eyes she had ever sunk into. It was progressively harder for her to call up his face in detail. She had loved him with her heart and her soul, almost to the point of an obsession. And Ronald Best had killed him.

Lillian felt the bile rise as she thought of Ronald and his Power Council, the man and his men who had controlled her life for so many years.

She felt pangs of guilt; she knew it was her fault Joe Willie had lost the election. It was she who had given his opponents what they needed to win.

Culpability was one of the reasons she refused to read the paper or watch the news. She knew she’d have to face life again, but just now she wanted to be alone.

Well, almost alone. Dwayne had been a saint; he’d honored her choice not to be intimate. Dwayne with his curly brown hair, impish turquoise eyes, and crooked smile. He was a good friend and sometimes her lover. She was pleased he was here with her.

Lillian lay back on the sand and the retriever returned. He sat panting beside her. Unconsciously she rubbed his wet head and ears.

Dwayne took the letter to his room and put it in the bureau drawer. Maybe tonight after dinner he'd give it to her. The condo had two master suites, and so far she had insisted that he sleep in one and she in the other. He could wait. In the evenings after she went to her room, he went to the bar down the road, where he socialized with the tourists. Dwayne smiled.

Sometimes he got lucky. There, blended in with the other tourists, he could watch the evening news on the bar’s television. The news was mostly about how Joe Willie had disappeared after the media discovered he had no birthright to run for President, and there was a great deal of coverage of the new President-elect, George Blair, and his ambitious plans to set right the ills of past administrations.

Tonight Dwayne would tell Lillian about Joe Willie, and he’d give her the letter. He had to win her over to the Federalist party. Ronald Best had said she could become a strong force for their movement. It would be difficult to convince her that the Generian race could save the world; sometimes even Dwayne wondered if that was true. But he was a party man and he owed his very existence to Ronald Best and the Power Council.

He planned to call Ronald when he and Lillian finished traveling. Before he did that, he thought it would be a good idea to take her to the forest near Seattle, Washington; he wanted her to meet Soquain.

He wondered if she was ready to learn the truth of the three races that had come to Earth from the planet Nefaz: the human clones like himself and Joe Willie, the pygmy Sasquatch like Ronald and the Power Council, and of course, the pure Sasquatch like

Soquain and her people who lived in the forests of Earth or, as Yeti, in the Himalayan mountains. Maybe it would help her, Dwayne thought. Maybe she would be ready soon.

Dwayne could almost see the Council. Ronald Best, always dressed to the nines. Handsome, he resembled Tom Selleck. Then there was Jack Ingersol, the statistician and plan-maker for the group. He was sloppy in his dress but precise in his planning. Samuel Gould was paunchy and always dressed with red suspenders, which he snapped to emphasize a point.

He was in control of ninety percent of the world’s television and newspapers. His holdings didn’t report the news. He made the news.

John Woods controlled oil production, weapons development, and auto manufacturing. John was short and stocky, with blonde hair. He appeared easy-going, but Dwayne knew he was evil to the core, as they all were. And lastly there was Richard Rollins, who always struggled to master a smile. Richard controlled food sources all over the world. Dwayne shook his head to get away from his thoughts of the men who ran his life and Lillian’s too. They planned to run the world.

He heard her light step on the stairs. He went to the living room to greet her.

Hello, Madame. You're lovelier then ever this morning, with your mist of wet dog shakings. I have prepared gourmet orange juice from La Minute Maid and Kona coffee fit for a king – er, I mean a queen.

He gave her his best grin and a sweeping curtsy.

She took the juice he offered. You are insane, Dwayne. Lillian smiled. I’m so glad you’re with me. I really appreciate your friendship.

’Tis not friendship I seek, dear lady, it is access to the bed in your room. My lady, men and women are not made for friendship. I go for the bed tonight.

No, Dwayne. Not even your charm will get you there this time; just be my friend. Lillian went to the patio and sat on one of the two verde grey wrought-iron chairs; she placed her juice on the glass tabletop.

Dwayne followed with a carafe of fresh Kona coffee and two mugs.

Seriously, Lillian, you’ll always have my friendship. He couldn’t keep himself from adding, And just as seriously, if you need someone to warm your bed, I’m available.

Sit down, shut up and have coffee with me. She gave the beggar bird another tidbit of a donut and watched him fly away with his treasure.

For some time they sat in comfortable silence.

Dwayne enjoyed her company whether he was playing the role of lover or friend; he had been both, since they first met and he had become her husband’s adviser, confidant and running mate. He and the other clones had no sense of morality, as they had no real family, no training in right and wrong. They were a strange breed, made for politicking and little else. They could not reproduce. Something was missing in their genes; Dwayne knew Dr. Avery was working on the problem.

Dwayne was glad he couldn’t have any children. They seemed an unnecessary part of human life; cloning was much cleaner and more efficient, and the women never got big and out of shape.

Lillian didn’t look at him as she spoke, but remained transfixed by the azure ocean and beyond.

Let’s take the convertible and drive up the coast. I need to relax, and I need to talk to you.

Dwayne didn’t understand all the complexities of her emotions, but he knew she was troubled; he hoped he could help. Dwayne wanted her pain to go away.

Whatever Madam wants, it shall be my command to give it to her. Shall I prepare the little limo with a picnic lunch as well?

Lillian turned and smiled. For the first time in three days, Dwayne saw life coming back into her emerald green eyes, not an invitation, but a small flicker of humor. Yes, Dwayne, let’s take a picnic. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "I’m

so glad you’re my friend."

He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it gently; a trace of guilt crossed his mind. He wanted to use her to support his career with the party. She had been used by every man she had ever known to support their careers. Her father, Joe Willie, Ronald Best, and soon he too would use her. Well, no matter; he needed her.

Be ready in an hour. We shall partake of all this little hot humid island has to offer.

Lillian giggled. You are incorrigible; everyone in the world loves Hawaii. You're an authentic desert rat. Me? I hope never to see another damn weird-shaped red rock. I’ve had my fill of sandstone, snakes and hot sun. You can have Sedona. She pulled her hand away. One hour. Make that a big lunch; I think my appetite is coming back.

He watched her long legs take her to her bedroom.

Maybe tonight, he thought.

They drove the little red Volkswagen along the coast with the top down. He enjoyed her company, the breeze, and the view. Somehow, he found a private stretch on the coast where the waves crashed on black lava rocks, forming foam, small blow-holes and tidal

pools. It was a place free of surfers and relatively free of people in general. Mist from the crashing waves sprayed them with cool moisture. Lillian was dressed in white levis and a mint green T-shirt that complemented her eyes. She wore a floppy straw hat;

her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail and tied with a green ribbon. Dwayne remained quiet; he was thinking about the letter. Should he tell her about it or just give her the damn thing tonight?

She relaxed on her webbed backrest with a glass of cabernet. She broke their silence. I think we should go back. I want to file for a divorce and then I’ll move to Santa Fe.

Surprised, Dwayne sat cross-legged with his back to the ocean so he could see her face. You’re going back to New Mexico?

Yes, my father’s health is not good, and Santa Fe is my home. I need to put Joe Willie behind me. I feel so guilty about what I did.

Dwayne poured the last of the wine into their glasses. What did you do? You have nothing to feel guilty about.

I told Judy Blair that a private detective hadn’t been able to find out where Joe Willie was born. I gave him up to the opposition. I don’t think I meant to, but maybe I did. He wasn’t fit to be President, and maybe subconsciously I wanted to stop him.

She looked into his eyes. Tears came to the surface; she wiped them away. I need to apologize. I need to get a divorce and move on with my life.

Now Dwayne knew she had cost Joe Willie the Presidency and his life. He’d have to keep that bit of information from Ronald. Ronald already hated her.

I’ll have to tell her about the suicide. No I’ll give her the letter. Damn, if Ronald found out what she’s done, he’d never trust her. Shit. Now my plans to use her are

in jeopardy!

He stood and held his hands out for her; he pulled her to her feet. Let’s check out the tide pools. We’ll have a serious talk tonight after dinner. For now, why don’t we enjoy this island paradise?

Thanks. I don’t want to deal with this, but I have to. Tonight will be time enough. Let’s go find a starfish or something.

They walked hand in hand along the outcropping of black lava. It held the tide and myriad pools, which made homes for all sorts of fascinating sea creatures.

Later that evening, Lillian sat at the grey-green patio table and waited for Dwayne to bring her cognac.

God, he had been so good to her! He had waited on her, cooked for them, let her wallow in self-pity. She looked up as he brought their drinks; he was tall and athletic, with unruly brown hair. He was good-looking; too bad she couldn’t love him. Perhaps she would never love another man as she had loved Tom.

Thanks, she said, you’re too good to me.

That is true. A man should beat a damsel once in awhile to keep her in line.

Don’t even think about it. She took her drink, feeling at peace for the first time in days. Her decision reached, she was ready to move on.

Dwayne reached in his back pocket and brought out the letter. He slid it across the table.

She was startled. What’s this?

She opened the letter from Janice: Dear Lillian, I am so surprised that you didn’t return my call. I know you wanted to be alone, and you were really upset with the election and the way things happened. I thought surely Joe Willie’s death would have triggered a response from you.

Lillian stopped reading and glared at Dwayne.

You son of a bitch, you knew and you didn’t tell me! Well, fuck you! She grabbed the

letter, jumped to her feet and knocked over the table. Their cognacs fell, the glasses shattered and syrupy juice flowed across the concrete. In five long, angry strides she was in her bedroom with the door locked. She sat on the bed and continued to read:

We found him on the mesa top where Studder and  the Devil Dogs were buried. He had taken Carl’s medical bag and shot himself full of everything that was in that damn satchel. He looked peaceful. Pres was with him, standing guard. Carl and I buried him there beside his friends. No one else came. It was so sad.

Lillian, he had no one. He was always a tragic little soul, so lost and confused. I don’t know what happened and I think I don’t want to know.

In my own strange way I loved him even when he was unlovable. There are evil forces at work around him, forces I can’t comprehend. I don’t want to understand them.

Lillian, you’ll always have a home here. If you want to live with us, it would please me. You will always be my friend. If you wish never to return, I understand. Please, when you are up to it, let me hear from you. I am sorry, I just thought you should know.

He is probably at peace now. I remain your friend,

Janice Benton

Lillian read the letter again. Guilt washed over her as she remembered the site on the red mesa overlooking Sedona. So much had happened there. Joe Willie had ended his life on the same spot where she had begun her life with Tom. Her decision was irreversible. She would return to Santa Fe. Even though she was still angry with her father because he had prostituted her for his selfish political gain, she would return to help him. She wanted to find out who the hell she was, other than a political whore.

Joe Willie, I am sorry.

Dwayne felt the primal rage surface. He was tempted to break into Lillian’s room and take her forcefully and then beat her. God damn this rage! They must have given me some animal DNA! He took deep breaths as he had learned to do. He counted to five

hundred and felt himself calm. Dwayne wanted to win her love and he knew anger and force would not be the way to her heart.

Dwayne tapped gently at her door.

There was no need to be angry at him; Lillian sighed and unlocked the door. He opened it and entered quietly.

Lillian, I’m sorry, I did what I thought was best. Don’t be angry with me.

She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor. She was suddenly exhausted. I’m not angry. I’m tired, tired of it all. I killed him, Dwayne; as surely as we are here, I killed him.

He knelt on the floor in front of her and