Authors: Dee Dawning
percent with Clovis at twenty-five percent and six percent are uncommitted."
"I don't know. Do you think I can make up three points in a month?"
"Heck yes. Winfred hasn't debated yet and you still have two more
debates."
Melissa said, "Two points in each of those debates and you're ahead."
"True, but we can't count on that."
Melissa beamed. "We have confidence in you, Sally. Show her the likeability poll, Lin."
Sally's eyes narrowed. "Likeability?"
"Ah-huh. They added a likeability poll this time and you killed them. Show
her, Lin."
Lindy pulled the top page away and slipped it under the second page.
"Your likeability polling is sky high at 69% percent likable vs. 22% unlikable.
Taylor is second at 43% likable vs. 40% unlikable and Richardson trails badly with only 36% likable vs. 55% unlikable. See, people love you."
Sally pointed to the poll. "Let's hope they love me enough to vote for me.
I'm surprised Coop is so low in likeability."
"I'm not." Melissa stepped closer to the desk. "People are starting to see him for what he is."
Sally leaned forward. "And what is that?"
"Mr. Country Club who doesn't have a clue about middle class needs. He's
shallow and doesn't know how to approach average people. He has no ideas, no
proposals, save the old Republican mantra, tax cuts, which once again will
enlarge the ever-growing equality gap between the rich and the rest of America."
Melissa scrunched her face as if she'd just tasted something awful. "Personally, I find him disgusting."
Sally laughed. "So I see. Unfortunately, he's leading me right now by three points."
"Only because of that fake scandal."
Sally sighed. "Yeah well we can't do anything about that now. We just have
to work harder." She lifted the poll papers. "Are these for me?"
"Yes, they're copies. Feel like lunch? Mel and I are going to the Station
House. We could have a drink or two to celebrate."
"I'd love to, but I'm scheduled to go into Lee's office in fifteen minutes for more coaching. You guys go ahead and have fun."
Melissa raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, that's three days in a row."
"We have a lot to go over."
Lindy snickered. "You like Lee, don't you?"
"Of course, don't you?"
"That's not what I mean, and you know it."
Sally flushed. "All right. I find Lee charming, attractive, and intelligent.
However, nothing will happen. I'm running for President."
"See. I told you, Mel. C'mon, I feel like a Pink Lady."
As they walked away, Melissa commented over her shoulder, "I think Lee
likes you, too."
Lindy nudged Melissa. "I know he does." They both giggled.
~ * * ~
The second debate, held October 16th at Hofstra University in Hemstead
N.Y., was hosted by Wolf News.
Like the first debate, Lee coached Sally relentlessly, proudly announcing to
the world that she was the best debate partner he'd ever had. Naturally, Sally
was nervous, but once she got past the first question, she did fine as Lee proudly watched his pupil from offstage.
Everyone worried that the Wolf News moderator would throw softball
questions at the Republican candidate and curve balls at Sally, but everything
turned out balanced.
Once again, the hard work showed results and most agreed, though there
was no clear winner, Sally handled herself best.
~ * * ~
Crowe's phone vibrated, just as the hot new Latino dancer took off her last
stitch and strutted her stuff. "Hello, this is Crowe."
"This is Melissa."
He straightened and smiled. "Melissa. How are you? I was about to get
ahold of you to give you this month's check."
"Mail it to the condo. I'm quitting. You never called me back about the
shooting."
Oh shit. "Baby, you know how busy I am. I forgot. Give me fifteen minutes
and I'll call you back with an answer."
"Fifteen minutes, no more."
Crowe punched in a number and waited. C'mon Karol.
"Rogue."
"Hi, Boss. It's Crowe."
"Hi, Crowe. How's it going? Our boy did pretty good in that last debate
didn't he? Only lost one point to that Cummings wench in the polls."
"Yeah, he did great. I have a question for you. Remember the shooting at
Pink headquarters?"
"What about it."
"Did you ever find out what went down?"
"Nah. There's a rumor about that though."
"Yeah what?"
"That some NFA big shot gave three rednecks six grand to go target
shooting at the SAFE building."
"Really, you got a name?"
"Nuh-uh. Told you, it's a rumor."
"All right, thanks. Gotta go."
~ * * ~
The last debate was held October 22nd, at Lyon University in Boca Rotan,
FL and hosted by CNN.
This time, more certain than ever of Sally's innate abilities and not wanting
to burn her out, Lee's coaching was less intense. On her end, Sally, with two
successful debates under her belt, was confident and calm.
This time there was no question who was best as Sally handled each
question as if she were already President. In short, she blew the competition, if you want to call them that, away.
Sally Cummings had made a compelling case that having a woman
President would not be a bad thing, and just might be a good thing.
~ * * ~
Melissa knocked on Lee's open door. "Hi, can I come in?"
"Sure, have a seat."
She stepped in the office and sat in a chair opposite Lee's desk. "Wasn't Sally great yesterday? She made minced meat of those guys?"
"Those guys are minced meat, especially that pretentious billionaire 'Coop'
Richardson."
Melissa giggled. "The election is only two weeks away."
"Yes it is, and although I didn't think it was possible when I first came here, I think Sally has a decent chance."
Melissa crossed her legs and tucked them under the chair. "What about the
other Pink candidates?"
"I think we'll do all right. Come January, I expect to see a lot of pink among the elephants and donkeys."
"I hope you're right. Lee, I didn't come in here to chit chat."
"No!"
"No, I need to tell you something about the shooting we had last month."
"I'm listening?"
Melissa fidgeted in her seat before continuing. "It wasn't the RNC."
"No! Did Crowe tell you that?"
Melissa gulped and her heart skipped ahead two beats. "Excuse me!"
Lee smiled. Don't worry, Melissa. We're not mad at you." We know you
were a RNC plant. I used to be a Republican for Christ sakes. I know a lot of
those guys. Anyway, I remember you from a couple years ago at a party Senator
Colburn threw." He laughed. "You might say you stand out in a crowd."
"Oh my God, you knew? I feel so mortified."
Lee snickered. "Hope you made a bundle."
"Don't worry. I did. I gave half of it to Kelly for SAFE, too."
"Yeah, she doesn't know, she came to me about it. I told her to not worry. To just take your money."
"Who knows?"
"Just Sally, Lindy, and me."
Melissa's head lolled back. "My God, Lindy. I love Lindy."
"Don't worry about it. She loves you, too. We all love you."
"How come you didn't run me off?"
"Melissa, we used you as much as the RNC used you. We inflated the stat
sheets you gave them and half the little secrets we gave you were made up and
the other half harmless. The joke is they were paying you handsomely for
misinformation."
"But I was still a spy."
"Better the spy you know than the spy you don't know. Besides, Lindy saw
something in you and we all watched as you evolved. You became friends with
everyone and everyone befriended you. Now, what were you going to tell me?"
That the Republican Party had nothing to do with the shooting. They won't
say it, but they think three guys were paid six grand by a Firearms Association
official to shoot up our building."
"See how you said our building. You're one of us now."
"I know, and I'm thrilled that you don't all hate my guts."
Lee reached into his file drawer and pulled out a manila folder. I'm going to
show you something that even Sally and Lindy don't know. Pull up your chair or
come over here so you can see better."
Melissa walked around Lee's desk and gazed over his shoulder as he
opened the folder. On the top sheet were three mug shots, one each of three
mean looking hombres. Two had beards and all three were heavily tattooed.
"Who are they?"
"Those are the Smiley brothers from deep in the heart of Texas. They are the perpetrators of the one-sided gunfight at SAFE corral."
Melissa smiled. "I see you haven't lost your sense of humor."
"Hope I never do."
"Tell me about this trio."
"I have a friend in the FBI who found them. They are in FBI custody and
they have confessed and have turned into choir boys."
Melissa scrunched her nose. "Choir boys?"
"Yep they like to sing and they have sung some nice lyrics about some
people over at the National Firearms Association."
She eased up beside him. "You have the perps in custody, they're singing
the blues, naming names at the NFA and you're not releasing the information?"
He laughed. "Don't worry. We will soon. We want these guy's mugs to be
fresh in the voter's mind when they go to vote."
Chapter Twenty - One Week to Election Day
The question isn't 'Where are the women?' The question is 'What are we going to
do to make sure these women win?'
Emily's List
Eight days before Election Day, news broke about the Smiley Brothers.
Their mug shots were featured over every newspaper, TV network, across the
internet and the news spread like wildfire. Even Wolf News carried it. Three
lifelong members of the NFA shot up SAFE's headquarters.
The following day—a week before Election Day—the Smiley brothers were
arraigned on seventeen federal, state and local charges, which could bring a total of thirty-eight years for each of them if they were found guilty of all charges.
That afternoon, rumors reached the media that the Smiley brothers were trying
to reach a plea deal.
The next morning broke the news that based on the Smiley brothers
confession, the FBI was investigating the National Firearms Association.
~ * * ~
After watching three days of almost solid Smiley Brothers news coverage,
Crowe decided to call his boss.
"American Crossburnings."
"Hi, this is Crowe Magnon. Can I speak to Karol Rogue?"
"I'm sorry, but Mr. Rogue is indisposed."
Indisposed?
"What's the matter with him?"
"He went home with a migraine headache."
Crowe glanced at his watch. "This morning? It's only ten a.m."
"No. Three days ago."
Crowe was incredulous. "And he hasn’t been in since?"
"That's right, sir."
Crowe suddenly became agitated. "But…there's an election in five days."
"I'm sorry, sir."
Not half as sorry as I am.
Crowe couldn't contain himself. "Well, who the
fuck
is in charge? We should be clobbering the dastardly Pinks with hate-filled
advertisements."
The secretary started crying.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to swear."
"It's not that. I can fucking swear with the best of them."
Hmm, my kind of woman.
Crying became weeping. "Mr. Magnon, no one's here except me, and the
phone's been ringing off the hook."
"Calm down…eh, sweetheart."
Her weeping slowed to sniffles. "Can you take charge?"
"God no. American Crossburnings is supposed to be totally independent of
the candidates and the Republican Party. I could get in big trouble for just
talking to you. What's your name, anyway?"
"Jade. Then, we shouldn't talk on the phone."
Jade?
I wonder if she's into…
"Would you like to meet after work for a drink?"
"Would I? I'm getting wet thinking about it."
Crowe swallowed. "What?"
"I'm a GOP girl."
He smiled. "And I'm a GOP guy."
Jade giggled. "No, you're not. At least not the GOP I'm talking about. You
know what GOP really stands for don't you?"
"No,
edify
me."
"Cute! I'll edify you all right. GOP is an acronym for Girls On the Prowl!"
When Crowe hung up from Jade, he was as hard as a proverbial steel beam.
He wanted to release his privates in his private bath, but first he picked up the phone and hit speed dial for his somewhat trusty toady, Willie Joe Flounder.
"Hello."
"Willie."
"Yes, Boss."
"I want you to get me on every news show you can up until Election Day."
"It's kind of late notice. Is Wolf News all right?"
"Yes, but we need mainstream media, too. Even liberal media. I need to
reach as many voters as possible or we're going to end up with a woman
president."
"Is that so bad?"
Crowe frowned and hitched his chin inward. "Of course it is. Sometimes I
think you left your brains in Yazoo City."
"Why is it bad?"
Crowe furrowed his brow. "It…it just is. If we elect a woman president,
anything's possible. Next thing you know we'd have a…"
"What?"
"A black President!"
"Oh, my God. I never thought of that. My great, great, great granddaddy
from the Mississippi Fifth Volunteers would turn over in his grave."
~ * * ~
For three days, like a trooper, Crowe made the talk show rounds. His