My Love Affair with America

He was the Mayor. He told me we were the envy of the town. Other couples envied us because we had everything. He had a great job, we went on grand vacations, we had the largest house in the neighborhood, and the biggest pool in the county. We owned the most land and had the most people working for us. We threw wild dinner parties, weekend retreats, and jetted to Paris for dinner at our leisure. We went to church every Sunday and paid our tithes. We believed we were blessed because we worked so hard and because we were good Christian people. He told me he heard people talk about us all over town, how they wished they could be like him and me.

            I believed everything he said. I saw their smiling, accepting faces when we drove through town. When we went to dinner, they went out of their way to fulfill our every whim. He took care of them, he told me. They were like our family. He made sure they had good lives, and when trouble came their way, he helped them get back on their feet again.

            But all of the children looked sad. They tried to smile, but it was apparent they were forcing themselves to appear happy. Their bodies fidgeted, and their eyes darted all over when he leaned to talk to them. He gave them dollars, which made their parents very happy. They all looked so sad.

            Years later, I learned he had molested the children whose parents he had paid.

            This is my love affair with America.

                                                                                                                   The End.

This story was inspired by the Jefferson Airplane song "Somebody to Love," specifically the first line: 

When the truth is found to be lies/And all the joy within you dies.

Copyright 2012 Eileen M. Sembrot