Barack Obama

MONDAY

Michelle said this morning, “Where are you going?”

“Out,” I said. The driver took my bags. She said, “Can you get some milk?” “Well,” I said, “I guess I can.”

TUESDAY

Arrived at Auckland airport just after midnight. John was there.

“Mate,” he said, and shook my hand. “Good to see you,” I said.

“How was the flight?”

“Good,” I said.

“Wait till you try Air New Zealand,” he said. “I’m on the board.”

“How’s that going?”

“Good,” he said.

“That’s good to hear,” I said.

He took my bags, and opened the door of the limo.

“See you at Kauri Cliffs tomorrow. Think you can beat me this time?” he asked, with his trademark smile.

“Hey,” I laughed, “I hope I can.”

WEDNESDAY

Beautiful day at an exclusive course with John and his son Mick.

“How’s your career in showbiz?” I asked him. “I’ve kind of quit,” Mick said.

“It’s hard. You can have all the talent in the world, but you still need to promote the brand,” I said.

“Yeah, I found it pretty hard to get any publicity,” he said. “There you go,” I said. John took my golf bag, and we walked along the green in the sunshine.

“So,” he said, “how’s life after politics treating you?”

“Pretty fair,” I said. “I mean. Here we are.” “Here we are,” he said. His phone rang. “Oh,” he said. “It’s Simon. New leader of my party. It’d mean a lot to him to have his photo taken talking on his phone to you. Would you mind having a quick word?”

“Sure,” I said, “I suppose I can.”

THURSDAY

I met John this morning at another exclusive golf course. He said, “How was last night?” “Good,” I said. “I had dinner with Peter Jackson.” “Good guy,” he said.

“He said you helped him out once,” I said. “It’s about making things happen, isn’t it?” he said.

“That’s what it’s all about,” I said.

Later I flew to Auckland and met Prime Minister Jasmine Ardern.

I said, “I hear you are expecting a baby.”

She said, “I am in a few weeks.”

I said, “That’s so exciting.” Later there was dinner at an exclusive events venue. Stan Neil, the actor, asked me questions onstage. Well, a man has to sing for his supper, which was a choice of gingerglazed salmon with turmeric and coconut broth, or slow-cooked beef short-rib with grilled broccolini and crispy shallots, cooked by renowned New Zealand chef Gordon Peters. I ordered both but couldn’t eat it all. Stan took my doggybag, and had it taken to my hotel room.

Later I sat at the bar with John. “Mate,” he said. “End of the day? You were a great President. A great, great President.” “So were you,” I said.

“Damn straight,” he said, and walked to the bathroom.

I saw my reflection in the window. It was ghostly in the black glass. I didn’t like what I saw looking back. It looked more dead than alive. I thought: How can you live with yourself ?

And then John slapped me on the back and ordered one for the road.

FRIDAY

Michelle called when I was at Auckland airport. “You home soon?” she asked. “Pretty soon,” I said.

“Good. Can you pick up some milk?” The pilot took my bags. I felt very tired. “You know,” I said, “I don’t know if I can.”