I had a dream the other day, and I want to tell you about it. I’d been reading The Diary of Anne Frank, which I do on occasion. I keep a copy of it on my nightstand, along with some other books that I find myself drawn back to, again and again. And lately, with everything in the news about Donald Trump and his authoritarian ways, I felt the need to revisit Anne Frank’s writing from the “Secret Annex.”

So I was laying on my bed reading from her diary, when I must have dozed off for a while. What I remember was getting in my car and driving down to Washington D. C. to visit the White House. I brought a book with me to read while I waited in line, and after a while I was being led down a long carpeted hallway with the other visitors, when all of a sudden I saw a sign with an arrow pointing to the Oval Office. I don’t know if anybody else saw it, but anyway, I stepped away from the line and walked to where the arrow was pointing. And after a minute or so I came to these two big brown wooden doors with Oval Office painted on them in gold lettering. Nobody was standing there or guarding the space, and since one of the doors was open a little bit, I stuck my head in, to see what I could see.

Well, I guess that I must’ve been feeling really curious, because before I knew it, I’d stepped inside for a better look. And after scanning all around, looking at the big windows, and all of the chairs around the biggest desk I’d ever seen, I realized that the president himself, Donald Trump, was sitting there, and looking straight at me. “Who are you? What are doing here, I didn’t call for you to come in?” He had a loud and booming voice! And you know what, I might’ve said the same thing if I’d been the president, but not with the same booming voice.

I told him my name, that I was there on a tour, and when I saw a sign pointing to the Oval Office, I just had to go and take a look. “And besides” I said, “I’ve got a book to give you. Do you want to see what it is?” He looked at me kind of funny and said, “A book — what do you mean a book, like what J. D. Vance wrote?” I said that what I brought was different from that, but that he might still want to take a look at it. “Why would I want to read your book, and who are you anyway?” he said. I said that I’d voted in the last election, and even though I hadn’t written this book, it was really famous, kind of like he was, but for different reasons. And then he stood up, really tall, and told me to give it to him, and I did.

“The Diary of Anne Frank, what’s this all about, and why should I read it anyway?” “Well sir, Mr. President, seeing how you’re one of the most important men in the world, I thought that you should know about one of the most important books in the world, that is, if you didn’t know about it already.” “Yeah, I’ve heard of it”, he said, “but I’ve got a lot to do, and no time to be reading books like this.” “I’m working to make America great again, so why should I stop doing that to read this?” I said, “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t want to stop you from working. But, I figured, that since millions of people have been reading this book, all over the world, for over seventy-five years, that you shouldn’t miss your chance to know what they all know. I guess that I’m just trying to help you out, Mr. President, sir.”

Well, we both just stood there, without either of us saying a word, for just a few seconds, when all of a sudden he said, “All right, I’ll take the book, but I’m busy, and you’ve got to get out of here.” And that’s when I said, “Thank you Mr. President, I’ll be watching you on TV, and I’ll keep my hopes up, for the best,” and left the Oval Office, with him alone in there, but with the book, too.

And that was my dream.

Russell Pirkot lives in Greenfield.