61. Reagan vs Lincoln VI: Silver Screen

A teenage Ronda Reagan laid across her bed, staring at her television as the charismatic cowboy appeared in front of the gang of bandit outlaws, his pistol at the ready.

“I’m gonna give you to the count of three to hand over the girl,” the cowboy muttered as Reagan inched closer to her screen. “Three…two…”

A loud crash came downstairs, causing Reagan to flinch before letting out a sigh.

Sounds like dad just walked through the screen door again, she thought, which means he must be even drunker than usual…

Reagan flipped off the TV and went to her window. She opened it and crawled outside before climbing down to the ground below.

“And so,” Reagan monologued as she wandered the empty streets of her tiny town, “our heroine is forced away from her castle by the fire-breathing dragon. She most go forth on her own, seeking new adventures to occupy her while she waits for the dragon to fall asleep. And of course,” she smirked, “she knows just where to go…”

“Evening, Reagan!” the ticket clerk for the movie theater greeted her. “The usual?”

“Yup!” she replied, handing over a dollar bill. “One ticket and two boxes of jelly beans!”

Over the next three hours, Reagan would laugh harder, gasp louder, and cry deeper than she had in a long time. The story was nothing special, but that was exactly what Reagan loved about it. It was just a plain, simple tale where good people were always good and where bad people were always bad.

“Stories don’t need to be any more complicated than that,” Reagan whispered as the credits rolled, taking off her thick, circular glasses to wipe away a tear, “not when the real world is as messy as it is.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” the woman seated besides her remarked.

Reagan squinted at her neighbor. The lights were too dim for Reagan to make out who she was, but her voice sounded eerily familiar.

“Excuse me,” Reagan spoke up, “but have we met before?”

“I don’t think. I’m not from around here, you see; I’m just passing through for the night. My name is…”

The lights in the theater turned back on.

“FDR!” Reagan exclaimed, shooting out her seat as she recognized the woman before her. “I’m…I’m your biggest fan! I’ve listened to all your speeches a dozen times! I…I could recite one, if you’d like!”

“That’s quite alright now,” FDR chuckled. “Besides, it’s about time for me to hit the hay.”

Reagan clenched her fists as FDR got out of her seat.

“Excuse me,” she said, stepping in front of FDR. “I know this is terribly presumption of me, but I heard you’re looking for someone to run the social media for your radio show, and I was wondering…”

“Sorry kid,” FDR said, shaking her head. “We just hired somebody for that post last night.”

“…I…I see…” Reagan whispered. “Well…have a good night then.”

Reagan stood still, biting her lip as FDR walked past her.

“How the hell is somebody ever supposed to become a fighter,” she mumbled, “if they can’t even get a job at a radio station?”

FDR stopped walking, raising an eyebrow as she looked to Reagan.

“Hold up, kid…what’d you say about becoming a fighter?”

“Oh,” Reagan spoke hesitantly as she turned back around. “Well, that’s what I’d like to be, eventually anyways.”

“Interesting,” FDR stroked her chin. “Do you know any martial arts?”

“Yes!” Reagan replied, more confident than before, “I’ve been practicing for over eight years now.”

FDR put a finger to her lips, her mind in thought.

“…come with me.”

The two walked out of the theater and onto an empty parking lot. FDR looked around, then turned to Reagan.

“I want you to show me what you’ve got,” she said, placing her hands behind her back. “If you can land even a single hit against me…I promise; I’ll make you a fighter for the New Dealers.”

=====================================================================================

=====================================================================================

Reagan’s Flashback I. Ronald Regan’s dad, while overall a good man, was an alcoholic who would frequently walk straight through their screen door.

Ronda’s request of FDR in the novel is very close to how Ronald got his first job as a sports announcer: he went in asking for a job he didn’t really want, got rejected, and muttered “How the hell do you get to be a sports announcer if you can't ever get a job at a radio station?” as he walked away. The employer heard what he said and asked if Ronald knew anything about football, to which he replied that he played for 8 years. From there, the employer sat him down in a booth and asked him to broadcast an imaginary football game right then and there; afterwards…