A/N: When we last left the character Billy Jack, he was a U.S. senator. Why not take him all the way up the executive branch? Based on the titular character from the 1971 movie "Billy Jack".

Billy Jack 9: The White House Years

"This is Constance Barnes, reporting for R-SPAN. Today marks the second 'American Summit' held by President Billy Jack, as outlined in his plan for the country during his inauguration speech three months ago. Behind these doors," she said as she motioned to a pair of heavy wooden portals behind her "are some of the country's leaders representing various groups and organizations who have taken the president's invitation to talk to him about the troubles in America today. The guests may already be seated inside, but I can see from where I stand that the host is now arriving." Down the hall, a man in a denim jacket and pants and a black straight-brimmed hat strode toward the reporter. A woman and several Secret Service men struggled to keep up with the president.

"It's good to see you again Miss Barnes," the president said as he took the initiative and greeted the reporter first as soon as he stopped in front of her.

"Thank you, Mr. President. I see you have Secretary of State Jean Roberts with you today." Miss Roberts, a little winded, arrived several steps behind and smiled while shifting a cardboard box she was carrying.

"That's right. I promised that if I became president that I would work to close the divide between so many groups that have issues these days. Our great country has become a battleground when it should be a land of peace. I am the world's greatest advocate of peace and believe that differences can be worked out if only the dialogue can be frank but cordial. Facts, not personal attacks."

"Some have claimed that despite your talk of peace, violence has been a hallmark of your history of dealing with conflict. How do you respond to that?"

"Miss Barnes, I make no secret of the fact that as a Green Beret from the Vietnam War I was taught much in the way of violence. However, those were different times and in a much different place. I have grown as an individual and see that conflict as having been totally avoidable, if only the world's leaders had acted to avoid bloodshed rather than promote it."

"So you've left that behind you? I understand you literally slapped a senator with a subpoena once."

"That was an exaggerated incident. As to my past, I would never raise a gun against someone now. Just as the two sides of my heritage are at peace, so too do I see hope and potential in all. The Navajo and the White Man were once at odds with each other; but just as my father and mother from those two worlds came together, I believe any two sides can reconcile their differences."

"And how do you propose to succeed where others have failed?"

The president smiled. "When I think of the world as one happy, beautiful place it fills me with great joy. Surely we can find common ground with that, and it is that which I shall use – common grounds. All we have to do is make sure that all parties understand each other's feelings and eventually an agreement can be reached. I'm not saying it's a quick and easy process, but this IS only the second summit."

The reporter turned to the Secretary of State. "Ms. Roberts, as Secretary of State how do you intend to encourage reconciliation?"

"I have a number of things to try. Often a person feels tense and angry when they are unable to find a means to communicate their feelings to others. I have various arts and crafts along with several musical instruments available to allow our visitors to express themselves more fully. By doing that, true harmony can occur so that peace will guide the planets and love will steer the stars. If those fail we might try interpretive dance next."

"I see from the door opening behind you that the time has come for your summit," the reported interjected. "Good luck with your unique approach."

"Thank you. It's only unique because no one has tried it before," the president chimed in before waving to the camera and leading the Secretary of State into the noisy room and closing the heavy doors behind them. Several Secret Service agents looked unhappy at being excluded from the room even with the extensive screening the guests had received.

…

The din of those assembled in the room started to subside as the president walked calmly to the front of the room to the head of the conference table. He cleared his throat and smiled before addressing those present.

"As you can see, we have no cameras or other staff present today with the exception of Secretary of State Roberts and myself. We feel as though the presence of others will only lead to distraction from our purpose of frank communication. Because some of you may share common concerns, I've decided to hold one large meeting rather than many individual ones in order to save valuable time. Let's start off with Mr. LaRue who represents the auto industry labor force. Mr LaRue, what are your biggest concerns?"

A big burly man in a "Detroit Forever" shirt stood up and addressed the president with an edge of anger in his voice. "My concerns? What about the concerns of a whole lot of hard-working people on those assembly lines out there wondering where those jobs we personally promised them are? You need to pass a law or something."

"Mr. LaRue," the president said calmly "we did not make those promises – you did. I've been through a desert with my sister the burro and she taught me the value of good, honest labor. But there have to be jobs before the people can work them."

"Don't go putting this on me!" a big burly man in a suit growled as he stood up. "We'd be able to build a lot more cars and trucks if you'd just relax government standards and stop imports from coming into this country."

"Oh sure, relax standards for your cars and then put more and more restrictions on your workers, is that it Mr. Johnson? Maybe the president should make a law to pass all your profits onto the people that get their hands dirty building those very cars."

"Gentlemen, calm down if you would please," the president interrupted. "I appreciate you have grievances with one another. Mr. Johnson, study of my cousin the eagle will show that even a bird that flies freely through the air still has restrictions, even if it is just to find a place to alight and eat or rest. Perhaps we need to hear from someone else for a bit. Ms. Willow, perhaps you would like to speak."

A big burly woman stood up. "I most certainly would. What difference does it make if the owners win or the car workers? Either way we get more and more freeways and gas stations while oil tankers coat our oceans with oil to the point that none of the fish are fit to eat."

One of the few skinny people in the room jumped up, still as angry as the others. "Why do you insist on eating fish or any animals? They'll live longer covered in oil than on your dinner plate!" he said, shaking his fist and jostling his name tag reading 'Bill Leighter'.

"Are you saying I'm fat?"

"I think she ate the whole school," Mr. Johnson said in a voice that was anything but hushed to the person sitting next to him, who just happened to be Mrs. White of the home school advocacy group Nowhere Besides Home.

"Industrial schooling is programming," the burly woman said. "The government needs to support learning at home and should require it until at least the fourth grade."

"Idiots being taught by idiots," Alvin Tostig the burly Dean of the College Association Teachers PAC snorted. "Every single man and woman needs a good, solid college education of at least four or preferably eight years."

Another burly but androgynous person stood up. "Why only men and women? Why can't you just say 'person' or 'student' instead? Maybe I don't want to be a man today or a woman tomorrow."

General Mayhem, a burly man with medals on his uniform coughed. "As long as you're not in one of MY foxholes, I don't care what you are or aren't. Make a command decision and stick with it – you don't switch sides in a war."

Adam Spiver, founder and leader of the Non-Military Militant Survivors and Preppers Club raised his voice rather than his burly body. "The government owes private citizens their own foxholes to put where they want. Let's sue the feds until we all get one!"

Tom Bailey stood up, forgetting to use his cane to raise his burly body – he often forgot his affectation when getting excited. "As the head barrister for the Lawyers Against Not Suing People, I believe you should all work out your problems in court rather than expect this president to help. I never trust a president who hasn't been a lawyer."

"Not only that, but it sets a bad precedent." Brandon Scott rose to his feet, filling his broad chest with a lungful of air as he often did on the floor of the House of Representatives. "If this president starts solving problems, the opinion polls for those on Capitol Hill will sink lower than they really are and we can't have that! He has an unfair advantage with two ethnic voting blocs backing him."

"He's distilling the cultural identity of his people!" shouted the burly Chief of We Were Here First Peoples, LLC. Sam Running Cat flexed his burly arms in anger. "How can he be a Red Man when he lives in a White House?"

As a debate started between Sam and Unity Uhura Cloud of the Claim As Many Heritages As You Can Committee, the president banged his fist on the table for lack of a gavel to use. "People! Honored guests! Please, decorum if you would. Let's keep this civil. Perhaps if we could pass out some colored pencils and paper you could express yourself in a calmer, less violent manner." Secretary Roberts started placing pencils and paper at several points down the long conference table. "We have to find some common ground here."

Hank Shultz of the Cartoonist's Guild of North America grabbed at the paper and pencils. "here, let me show you creatively how I want you to require all Americans to subscribe to newspapers again." He hastily scribbled away at the paper and then held up a drawing of a stick figure on a scaffold. Underneath were spaces filled in with the name

B I L L Y J A C K

in the true hangman game fashion.

"Hey, let me try." General Mayhem quickly drew a picture. It clearly showed a tank firing on a square shape. The square was labeled "White House".

Mr. Leighter, who had been working feverishly, produced a drawing of a stick figure being pulled in four separate directions by beautifully rendered horses. This was shortly followed by other contributions from the room as the guests got into the spirit of the occasion and showed the president being run over by autos, drowned, eaten, struck by lightning, crushed by falling protected forest trees and other less obvious fates.

Mr. Larue held his arms up for attention as the room began to fall silent and he addressed the president. "Mr. President, I think we HAVE found that common ground after all. It seems to me that working together we can guarantee that you won't walk out of here under your own power." Several others slowly moved their massive bodies to stand beside him, creating a wall of humanity that would have been the envy of most professional football teams. "Whatta ya gonna do about it?"

The president let out a big sigh. "I try very hard…so very hard…to control my anger. The world can be a beautiful place without violence. Just like my second-cousin twice removed the rattlesnake shakes his tail as a warning, or my aunt the wolf bares her teeth before unleashing her bite, I give you this warning – Secretary Roberts and I are going to walk to that door and leave while you reconsider your positions. Anyone hindering us will receive a non-passive response. I'd prefer we leave peacefully but the choice is yours; perhaps you can take up one of the musical instruments in the box and let the calming influence of music guide you." Oddly, he removed his shoes while giving the last suggestion.

"Come on," the General insisted. "He can't take ALL of us. He's just one little tin soldier while most of us are burly."

"I may not be burly," said Marty Snidely of the Freedom and Peace Above All Else group "but I'm with you." Caught up in the moment, the slight-framed fellow joined the growing throng.

"Very well," the president said. "As my uncle the honey badger says, let's do this."

…

Outside, the reporter gave a motion and the camera started recording again. "This is Constance Barnes with an update. It's been nearly an hour, but I believe I can hear chairs being moved inside the room. It could be that they are having a break; perhaps the president will address us about any progress he has made. Yes, I think the door is opening…" she said as she stood back to give the camera a better view. The door opened slightly to reveal Secretary Roberts, who quickly disappeared as she held the door completely open. In rapid succession bodies of the guests flew out, landing on the floor and creating a pile. Those not knocked out cold were left groaning and/or whimpering. Finally, the president emerged – the feather in his hat now bent and his bolo tie askew. He slipped his socks and shoes back on as Secretary Roberts emerged with a stack of papers.

"Excuse me a minute," the president said as he bent down and removed a paper that was stuffed in the mouth of someone in the pile. He flattened it roughly with his hand and handed it to Roberts, who added it to the stack she was holding. He addressed the reporter. "Today's meeting went about as well as I expected. We shared our views, and I think we can honestly say that our guests found some common ground. We've received some valuable feedback that we'll go over in the next few days which will prove useful at our next meeting with the new representatives these groups will send. We just need to keep a positive attitude and work towards a peaceful solution. Remember, violence never solves anything." Together, he and the Secretary turned and headed back down the hallway from which they had arrived.

"I can't believe where you put that flute," Roberts said under her breath.

"That's because the drum wouldn't fit," the president said with a smile. "Have you noticed how they send bigger representatives each time?" he asked while they turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

The End

A/N: For a man and movie that professed non-violence as a solution, "Billy Jack" had quite a bit of thumping in it. I would imagine that the pattern would continue no matter what situation he was in – karma I guess…

For the record, I didn't see any other movies in the series besides the 1971 offering. But I've never let that stop me before!