The City was in confusion.
Security like no-one had ever seen. Roads blocked, important
buildings barricaded, barriers and police along every pavement,
military helicopters lowering overhead, crowds milling everywhere.
The Very Important Person was coming to the City to meet other Very
Important Persons. The ordinary people were held back behind the
barriers and corralled by the police. Some looked angry, some looked
happy. There was shouting, there were placards, there were
occasional scuffles between rival groups, between supporters of the
Very Important Person and his denigrators. Strangely, it was the
pros that were angry. The antis were having fun with their witty
signs and jolly outfits and rude cartoons.
Some were just curious: here was a
man with his grandson. He thought it safer to bring the boy among
the antis, and the crowd had good humoredly allowed the old man and
the young boy to push through to the front. Let the boy see the
monster!
When I was your age, he had told
the boy a few days earlier, my grandad brought me to the park
and we watched and cheered as another Very Important Person drove by
in an open top car. Grandad gave me a flag to wave and told me to
shout out: I like Ike! The great man turned and caught my eye for a
moment. It's one of my earliest memories. Of course, things were
different then. Everyone respected authority, and he was a real hero
of the war. This one? He's a draft dodger, isn't he? There was no
security like nowadays.
The boy had pleaded with him. Can
we go please grandad, can I wave a flag and shout like you did?
Please? The old man told him that you wouldn't see much, just a
flash of a big bullet-proof limousine. But the boy pleaded, so in
the end he'd agreed. The boy had spent all the next morning finding
out about the flag, then painstakingly creating his own handmade copy
with paper and a stick his grandad gave him.
So there they were, pressed up
against the barrier, surrounded by the crowd, who broke out into
occasional chants and songs. The boy heard them singing a song from
his favourite movie, one he'd watched lots of times with grandad.
He'd even sung the song at his school's Christmas concert. But now
they were singing it with different words. Why are you singing that,
he asked one of the ladies beside him. It's the Very Important
Person's anthem, she laughed.
They waited and waited, but the
boy didn't get bored. He liked the friendly people and the chanting,
and a policeman let him stand just where he got the best view, and
occasionally police cars would race up and down the empty street with
sirens wailing, and there were the helicopters buzzing over. Then he
saw a man with a big camera coming down the street on the outside of
the barrier, and another man with a microphone. He would stop here
and there and ask someone in the crowd questions. He saw a sticker
on the camera and it said Fox News. He liked foxes – sometimes when
he looked out of his bedroom window at night he would see one
silently slipping between cars in the street. As the men passed, the
boy said to them, Do you make news for foxes? The men stopped and
looked down at the boy, noticing him for the first time. The boy
found the microphone pushed up close to his face.
Say that again, said the man. The
boy repeated it and the man chuckled and said, No, we make real news
for real people. He grinned over at the camera. Do you like real
news? The boy nodded. So what do you think of fake news, son? I
hate fake news, said the boy. Good for you, said the man: and did
you make this flag yourself? The boy nodded. And do you know what
it stands for? It has thirteen stripes for the states when it was
made, and fifty stars for the states there are now, said the boy: and
it stands for freedom and democracy. The man stood back up and
turned to the camera with a very self satisfied smile. At last we
have one supporter in the whole of this City! Suddenly there was a
rush of noise, anticipation, cheering, booing: a dozen sleek
limousines and vans flashed past and were gone.
The Very Important Person was
fuming. In the residence where he was staying that evening he had
asked for three TVs to be set up and he was flipping from one to the
other: all of them showing this nasty little guy, one of the people
he really hated in this god forsaken town, spouting his nasty little
thoughts. Very dumb – spouting his fake news about me. This trip
is meant to be about me, he said out loud. Why are they even showing
this loser? The flunkies flinched, a little. Then something on one
of the screens caught his attention: a small boy waving a hand made
flag – his flag!
He turned up the sound. The boy was saying, I hate fake news! That
was more like it. The reporter was asking him about his flag. It
stands for freedom and democracy, the boy was saying. Get me that
boy, he shouted. The flunkies stood to attention and looked sidelong
at each other. Get me that boy!
It was time to leave the City and
the Very Important Person was on a podium, flanked by enormous gold
fringed flags of his country, telling the assembled journalists and
cameras what a triumph his visit had been. The cameras flashed their
red lights, sending out their signals live around the world. Now
everyone will know about the special friendship between our two
countries, he said. Anyone who disagreed, like that dirty little
loser on the TV last night, should just shut up peddling their fake
news. I have met some Very Important People on this trip and they
all loved me. And the ordinary people! Did you see the crowds?
Amazing. And you know what? I have a big surprise for you – a
very ordinary little person here who loves me and hates fake news!
Yes, come on out, son! Yes it's the boy with the flag!
There was an audible delighted
sigh even from this bunch of hardened hacks as the boy shyly appeared
from the wings, with his little hand-made flag.
So you don't want anything to do
with fake news, do you? No sir, the boy said almost inaudibly: my
grandad said there's lots of fake news about climate change. Good on
your grandad! Yes, sir, it's happening much faster than they let on.
The visitor suddenly took a step back. He looked around the room.
Kids eh? What do they know? So the flag, the flag. Tell me about
the flag. You made this flag all by yourself, didn't you? Yes sir.
It's beautiful, isn't it people? There was scattered clapping. The
boy started to warm up: it was like the school concert. Only, he
said, I couldn't do all the stars, I only did 32 because I ran out of
space: it should have fifty! They all laughed. The boy liked the
way he made them laugh. He started to smile. You did great, son.
Isn't he cute? And to show you how good I think you are, I'm going
to give you one of these wonderful flags at the back here to take
home. What do you think of that? That's cool, Sir. I hope I can get
it on the bus. More laughter. The boy was starting to love it now.
And you know the flag stands for
freedom and truth don't you, boy? Do you know they call it the star
spangled banner? Yes sir. And do you know the words of the Star
Spangled Banner? The boy looked confused. Our national anthem? Your
anthem sir? Yes! My
anthem! The Very Important Person looked very pleased and gazed
expansively around the assembled crowd. Impulsively he put his arms
around one of the flags on the podium: My flag, my anthem! The boy
watched him: he liked pleasing the visitor and the whole crowd. I
know it sir, he said: do you want me to sing it? And he took a step
forward and stood up straight, hands by his sides, just like at the
Christmas concert, feeling very confident now, looking out at all the
smiling faces. A flutter of anticipation swept around the room. In
his high treble voice he sang out the words loud and clear: Super
callous, fragile ego: Trump, you are atrocious!
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