I Was the President's Mistress!! by Miguel Syjuco

Author:Miguel Syjuco
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux

NOV 19, 6:04 P.M.

Governor Rolex Aguirre Transcript.

(170:52.69—Aguirre.M4A)

Respeto! Bring the rouge for our guest! God maketh “wine that gladdens the heart of man,” though Rolex alone madeth our country’s wine industry. This is our signature Chateau René-Pogel, a plushy Syrah from terraces hewn into limestone foothills above my ranch. Enjoy, please. As I explain this slapstick sarswela. Everything is under control, we just don’t know whose. Please, let us be relaxed. My back brings me grief. Have you ever fired a harpoon at a whale? We have connections in the Chukotka Autonomous Okrug. Spine-rattling, but you feel like an Ahab vindicated. Now that America is drowning itself, we must dance with Russia. Respeto! You forgot the amuse-bouche! We must spell things out for this twinkletoes. But I am tolerant. At least he will never betray me for a woman. The poor boy’s pathology is Satan’s plan to eradicate humanity; nobody can get pregnant in that hole. I hired him when Reyes became president. Respeto! Inform Chef Toogy we are ready! Good food, the fulfillment of public service, the Lord’s providence: nourishments in our ninth decade. When I was younger, Vita would pester: “Take care of yourself!” That now is my modus operandi, with my tai chi, jigsaw puzzles, avoiding stress, every year making pilgrimage to Villa Medica, in Edenkoben, Südliche Weinstraße. Fresh-cell therapy, injections from the organs of lamb feti. Abiola warns I will grow sheeplike. “Baaa!” I reply. Life is too short to not live boldly. Vita used to rub my potbelly, as if it’s not a boast of vitality. Do you dare pick a fight with a DOM with love handles and a clutch bag containing a Glock? Of course you don’t. Six-packs are for homosexuals. Self-respect is what I strive to reclaim for our people. Independence, defiance in the face of China, that is our pride, after centuries being colonized. Estregan making vassals of our people was the camel’s last straw. Filipinos excel too much in service, forgetting that respectability comes from will alone. Fernandito became popular through his joke book about his own ineptitude; as calculating as young Vita. Though if you stoop, how do you pull others up? Despite all I did to empower her—opportunities, books, linguistic tutelage, etceteras—she maintains her youthful tricks: her weaponized I-love-yous, her dramatic departures wielded like a baseball bat. She is still as stunning as an Akhal-Teke, with her laugh as lively as a dinner party, though her smile now is sharp with time’s cruelty. After the darkness of a discotheque you might lay with her, though in the light of the morning wonder how beautiful she used to be. Past her prime, the time passed for a decent husband, or shaking her bottom on the television. Though now independent and finally better than I envisioned: a worthy adversary. And legally old enough to aspire to the Palace. There is only one way for people like she and I to escape the powerlessness of poverty. Following the Laws of God—capital L, capital G.

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