How Not to Run for President (8 page)

“I'm going to get you back,” I said, all the while smiling and posing for photos in the lobby of a downtown Cleveland hotel. Was this what being a lobbyist meant?

I'd shaken more hands and smiled more in one afternoon than in the rest of my entire life combined. My face hurt. My mouth hurt. My eyes were so tired that they even hurt. After the event in Elyria, we'd been to every suburb of Cleveland that afternoon, or at least it felt that way. I didn't even know Cleveland
had
that many suburbs—or that people in them would come out to see me. I was just a normal kid from a normal small town. Hadn't they ever met one before? Now we were finishing up a dinner fundraiser that had been held in the enormous ballroom of the hotel where we'd be staying that night.

“Get me back for what?” Emma sounded so sweet and innocent, no one would ever believe she was mean and devious. With T.J., you could tell by looking at him that he was up to something. He'd have this scowl on his upper lip, which was kind of like a smile at the same time, like he was really going to enjoy whatever he was about to say or do to you, and his eyes would narrow, homing in on the target. But Emma acted like she was strolling off to a Niceness Convention.
Then
she punched you in the gut.

“You know what,” I said, gritting my teeth. “You pushed me across the stage, back in Elyria.” I hadn't even had time to confront her about it because we'd been in public all day. The governor was busy signing autographs and meeting the local FIP leaders who wanted to map out her schedule for the next few days.

“I have no idea what you're talking about. If you have balance problems, that's not my fault,” Emma said breezily.

“I don't know how or when, but I will get you back,” I said, keeping an eye out for Kristen, or anyone else who'd care how I was talking to Her royal Pain. “You made a fool out of me on national TV.”

“How is that my fault?” She laughed.

“You tricked me, then you shoved me! I wasn't even supposed to be onstage,” I said. “You were the one who told me to go, and then you shoved me.”

“My pleasure, my pleasure,” Emma said. “Love your shirts!” She smiled and waved to a group of young supporters wearing pink ballerinas for bettina T-shirts, who couldn't get close enough to shake her hand. Lucky for them, because who knew what she might do next?

“Are you jealous or something?” I asked. “Because I'm getting so much attention and you're not?”

“Please,” she said. “Jealous of you?” Then she turned nice again, telling a woman how much she was enjoying her visits in Ohio. What a phony!

As soon as that group moved on, Kristen pulled us away from the crowd, and we followed her and a couple of Secret Service agents to the elevators.

“I can't wait to get out of these stupid shoes,” Emma said, punching the elevator button. “They're killing me. I want to go home.”

“You and me both,” I said. “You know what? You're so phony. You're going to be a terrible first daughter.”

“Not if I can help it,” she muttered as we stepped into the elevator. She stood on one side of it, and I stood on the other.

“What?” I asked. That didn't make sense.

“Okay, kids, here's the deal,” Kristen said as the door closed. “We've got a little time to unwind before bed. Let's all chill out, put our feet up, have some downtime. No arguing, no fighting, no nonsense.”

When the elevator doors opened—with a special key—it turned out that we had the whole top floor to ourselves in one gigantic suite. It was the kind of hotel room you see on TV that only exists in Las Vegas or someplace fancy like that. Only this was Cleveland. And this wasn't on TV, it was real.

“Are we actually staying here?” I asked.

“It's going to be crowded,” said Emma. “Can't I have my own room, just once?”

“You always do have your own bedroom.” Kristen gave her a stern look. “What's more, I think we can all easily fit here with room to spare.”

“Actually, I think we could fit most of Fairstone in here,” I said as I followed the two of them around, checking out the spacious suite.

There were several bedrooms branching off a central living room area and a large dining room. A collection of board games was stacked on the coffee table, and a video game console sat next to the large-screen TV and a tower of video games and DVDs. Each bedroom had a private bathroom, and there was a kitchen stocked full of goodies.

“I still say this place is a dump,” said Emma as she tossed her shoes onto the floor.

“Yeah, right!” I laughed. It was the nicest hotel I'd ever seen, by a long shot. The only other time I'd stayed in a motel, it was the Lake Erie Lodgette. Christopher and I were there on a guys' fishing trip with my dad, and the only entertainment was a TV with three working channels.

“It is,” Emma insisted. She picked up one of the video games and frowned. “This version of
MLB
is two years old.”

Our suitcases and other bags had been already delivered to the suite—two giant luggage carts stood just outside the largest bedroom. Kristen got busy unpacking the governor's luggage and started ironing some of her clothes. For every suitcase the governor had, Emma had one, too. Maybe they were going for the best-dressed vote.

I saw my one, medium-size duffel bag with the FreezeStar logo on the luggage cart. It looked like a lunch bag compared to what they'd brought.

Of course, I was a last-minute addition. I wasn't planning on being with these people for weeks on end. You know the whole three-strikes-and-you're-out policy?

I'd knocked down the governor twice now. One more time, and maybe I'd be sent home. I opened the box of Lime Brains that Simon had given me and dropped a couple into my mouth. Would that be so terrible?

“Maybe if you didn't eat so much of that horrible candy, you wouldn't need an inhaler,” Emma said from her perch on the desk.

She wasn't nearly as smart as she pretended to be. “You don't know much about asthma, do you?” I asked.

She sniffed and dabbed her nose with a Kleenex. “I have allergies, you know. Serious ones.”

“To fun?” I asked.

She glared at me. “I travel with an EpiPen, okay?”

“A what?”

“EpiPen,” she said.

“Fascinating. I like pencils, myself,” I said.

She sighed. “You're hopeless. It's not a
pen
pen, stupid. It's an injection thing, a syringe. It's just shaped like a pen. If I eat peanut butter or something made with peanuts, I could die,” she said dramatically, as if she were going to fall off the desk just thinking about it.

Somehow, I didn't think I would mind that. I picked up the remote control, looking for a sports channel. I hadn't caught the Indians' result from last night's game, and I was dying to know who'd won—it had gone to the thirteenth inning before I finally went to bed.

“Can you quit doing that, please?” Emma asked.

“Quit doing what?” I replied.

“Checking out every channel,” she said. “You're driving me nuts.”

I laughed. “That's funny.”

“What? It's not funny,” she said.

“Yeah, it is, because you're allergic to nuts, so if I drive you nuts, you'll be allergic to yourself!” I thought it was pretty brilliant of me to point this out.

She glared at me. Her sense of humor was down in the polls—my poll, anyway. Way, way, way down.

I could tell she was about to go on another tirade when there was a knock at the door. Three knocks, actually, then a pause, then two knocks.

“That'll be the governor.” Kristen raced to open the door, nearly tripping over the ironing board.

Governor Brandon walked in, followed by Stu and the general. Her security detail stayed out in the hallway. “Guess what came?” The governor held up a brown box with overnight-delivery stickers all over it.

“My glove!” Emma cried.

“Well, uh, no …”

“Mom!”

“I forgot. I'm sorry,” the governor said. “We'll buy you one right away. But look!” Governor Brandon lifted a clarinet case from the box. “Now I can play beside Aidan.”

“Oh, joy.” Emma glared at me.

“I'm going to get changed quickly and then we can see what's what. I have a feeling I'll need some new reeds.” The governor disappeared into one of the rooms that branched off the main room of the suite. As soon as she was gone, the general took the remote out of my hand without asking and started clicking through the news channels.

See? Here was another problem. Even when I did get to watch cable, I had no rights on what to watch—whether I was at home or on the road.

“I have a question,” I said.

“Shoot.” The general didn't look away from the TV, reading the scrolling headlines at the bottom of the screen.

“Do you ever watch anything but cable news channels?” I asked.

He didn't even take his eyes off CNN. “Why? What would be the point?”

“Well, there are movies. Cartoons. Sports. And you know, other important, normal stuff.”

He didn't respond. On the TV, a newscaster was using a SMART Board to illustrate the differences in the latest poll results. “Despite her falls, one candidate is still rising in the polls,” the reporter said.

There it was: video footage of my clumsy crash onstage, knocking down the governor. I looked like an out-of-control bowling ball that had taken out several pins.

The general clicked to another news station. They were playing a medley of “Presidential Falls Throughout History,” which seemed to feature a lot of President Gerald Ford (number thirty-eight). On yet another station, there was a photo of me and underneath it: brandon's fall guy.

“Wow. We've learned something today,” said Stu, coming closer, mesmerized.

“What's that?” asked Kristen.

Stu turned to me. “We
need
Aidan. This campaign was in trouble before you showed up. You've got a golden touch.”

The general frowned. “I don't know if I'd call it golden. More like bronze. The governor's going to end up with a broken bone if this keeps up. I'm thinking we need to establish a perimeter. You, my friend, will stand outside it.”

“But he's effective,” said Stu.

“Effective? I think you mean
de
fective,” Emma said under her breath, but loudly enough so I could hear her.

Governor Brandon walked into the room, dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt. “So maybe we just need another way for Aidan to be involved. We didn't invite him along to give speeches or dance across stages,” she said.

“And now we know why,” said Emma, turning on her laptop.

“Ha-ha,” I said in a monotone. “Ha.”

Emma's mother ignored her. “So, what do you think so far?” the governor asked me. “Everything going all right for you?”

“Sure,” I said, nodding. “I guess.”

“Is it like you expected?” She sat down in a chair opposite me.

“Um … I actually didn't know what to expect,” I admitted. “I didn't really have time to expect anything. One minute I was playing in my marching band, and the next thing I know …”

“You got sucked into the political machine,” said Stu, nodding. “Same thing happened to me. I went to a rally in college, and it changed my life. You can really get swept away when you believe in something. Or someone.”

I didn't respond. That wasn't exactly what had happened to me. My experience was more like an alien abduction than being swept away. Now I was on a foreign planet where the only things that mattered were polls and sound bites. I wasn't Stu. I didn't know what I believed in.

“Well. Here we are.” Governor Brandon lifted a tray off the table and offered it to me. “Have an oatmeal raisin cookie?”

“Don't bother. He only eats Lime Brains,” said Emma in a disdainful tone.

“What's a Lime Brain?” the governor asked me.

“Thank you,” I said, taking a cookie off the tray.

“I don't want to know,” the general added.

“Sweet-and-sour gummy candy with a crunchy brain middle,” I told them.

“Sounds interesting,” said the governor.

“Sounds disgusting,” added Emma, glancing up from her laptop.

“Well, why don't you have some cookies from your peanut-free stash, Emma?” the governor asked.

“No, thanks, Mom.” Emma smiled. “I'm fine.”

“Suit yourself. Listen, I had a thought earlier.” Governor Brandon set down the tray, put her feet up on the coffee table, and dropped a small cookie into her mouth. “Aidan, you know how your words really got out there, how you made an impact with people?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, and in unison, Stu and the general said, “Yes.”

“We were just watching the news about that,” Stu said. “Very impressive results.”