Parties in Congress (5 page)

“More fucking jobs,” Donna hissed.

“And once residents are ready to be mainstreamed, the program helps find them permanent jobs and residences.”

Donna scowled. “Who’s paying for the medical care you mentioned? The taxpayer?”

“Actually, no,” Bijal explained. “The program has partnered with the local medical school and hires the participating local companies to upgrade the school’s facilities. The patients then receive treatment from the resident physicians, who demonstrate techniques and medical theory to the medical students. They hope it’ll become a state-of-the-art school and a huge draw for medical and nursing students all over the country.”

Janet looked defeated. “And in doing all this, they still reduce the number of homeless people on the street.”

“Who’s paying all the up-front costs?” Donna asked. “Who’s backing the construction projects?”

“It’s part of the stimulus package. This is considered a shovel-ready project.”

“And how many jobs are they estimating this will create?” Janet asked.

Bijal flipped through her notes for the number. “Well, you’ve got participating employers who’ll be ramping up staff, direct employees of the program itself, and medical college personnel. They’re estimating a couple hundred.”

“If it works,” Donna added. “We can still ultimately spin this as bigger government. It shouldn’t be a federal job to clean up every drunk on the street. Some of them are there because they’re fuck-ups.”

“True,” Janet said.

“But some are there because they were laid off, defaulted on their mortgages, or had steep medical bills and no health insurance. Democrats can easily spin opposing this as us simply being callous and greedy.” Bijal searched for another statistic among her scrawling. “Preliminary poll numbers show Richmond residents are predominantly behind it. It’s been sold to them as revitalization, more jobs, economic stimulus, and renewed infrastructure. O’Bannon and the Democrats have done a good job of talking that up and haven’t had any strong opposition.”

“You’re saying roll over on this?” Donna asked incredulously.

Bijal shook her head. “I don’t see any way for you to be against this co-op and win points—not now. Maybe if we’d been engaged months ago and mounted a vocal campaign against it.”

Janet sighed. “Let’s leave this alone unless O’Bannon starts talking it up.”

“That’s already happened,” Bijal said. “She has a new thirty-second radio spot that launched this morning with highlights from her speech.”

“That bitch,” Donna grumbled. “Did you find anything in her speech that we can use?”

Bijal glanced nervously at the floor as she tried not to look like she was hiding something. “No, I’ve gone through it several times. It was brief and well-worded. I think our best response is an indirect one—tout a positive measure that you’ve implemented as mayor of Ravensdale that shows your innovation and commitment to fiscal responsibility.”

The silence that fell over the room was excruciating. This was surely not a good sign.

Bijal stepped off the Yellow Line train at the Metro transfer station and scanned the crowd for Fran. She glanced guiltily at her watch; she was over twenty minutes late. “Shit.” She searched the station again, slightly less hopeful now, and was instantly relieved to see her roommate glaring at her from about twenty yards away.

She hurried over to her. “Fran, I’m so sorry!”

“Yeah, I was giving you five more minutes before I hopped on the Red Line and left your ass behind.”

“Our staff meeting ran late—and this whole Park and Ride thing is becoming a tremendous pain in the ass.”

Fran’s left eyebrow rose critically. “So is my stomach, which has begun to eat itself while I’ve been stuck here, watching the local crazies talk to themselves. I think some homeless guy took a shit in the corner over there.”

“Um—”

“Anyway, we need to decide where we’re getting dinner. You can bitch to me about your day once we’re on the train.”

Bijal’s remorse returned. “Fair enough. I made you wait, so you pick.”

“Okay, let’s hit Hector’s Hacienda, then. I’m dying for their pork enchiladas.”

“Ooh,” Bijal said excitedly. “And a pitcher of margaritas. Let’s go.”

They boarded the Red Line train on their way to Dupont Circle. As they took their seats, the doors shut and Bijal sighed tiredly as she set down her messenger bag and rubbed her eyes.

“Okay, you can start dishing,” Fran said.

“First, I need your word that you won’t turn my venting into an opportunity to lecture me on the perils of conservatism.”

Fran pouted. “Oh, come on. That’s not fair. You know what joy that brings me.”

“I’ll buy dinner,” Bijal offered.

“Deal. I’ll be as nonpartisan as I can manage.”

“Good, because I could really use some political advice.”

“So what’s the problem?” Fran asked.

“I’m starting to suspect that drunken monkeys are running our campaign.”

Fran scoffed. “Well, when I volunteered last year for Councilman Jeffries, brain-damaged cockroaches ran our campaign. Drunken monkeys would have been a step up. Congratulations. At least your incompetents have opposable thumbs.”

“Yeah, but I’m concerned we won’t be able to pull off a win. We don’t seem to be making smart moves.”

“Hmm, and who’s your campaign manager?”

Bijal sneered slightly. “Donna Shoemaker.”

“I don’t know the name.”

“You know her. She played the Nazi dentist in that movie
Marathon Man
.”

Fran laughed loudly. “Wow, as cuddly as all that, huh?”

“She’s threatened to fire me at least once a day since I started. At first I thought she didn’t like me, but now, after only a week, I know she does that to everyone in the office.”

“Is this
before
she drills your teeth without anesthetic and asks you if it’s safe?”

“After—directly after. But seriously, I’m really worried about how things are going.”

Fran appeared to ponder this. “Okay, let’s review the facts and we’ll see what we can do.”

Bijal began digging through her bag and pulled out a ragged-looking legal pad. “I was hoping you’d say that,” she said with a smile.

“I am
so
getting dessert for this.”

“As much flan as you can keep down,” Bijal said.

“So start with your opponent. Give me her highlights.”

Bijal began flipping through her notes. “Congresswoman Colleen O’Bannon––thirty-four years old, incumbent representative of the twelfth district of Virginia. Her family owns and operates the Arc of Orion distillery in Fulton County, and has since 1934.”

“Ooh, really?”

“Could you try to be a little less enthused, please?”

“Come on, she’s young, queer, liberal, powerful, and likes the sauce. She and I are made for each other.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmm, I can imagine her licking fancy booze off my cinnamon nipples all night long. And in the morning, we’d talk about universal health care and repealing the death penalty.”

“Jesus, Fran. Try and keep it in your pants at least until we get to the restaurant, okay?”

She looked contrite. “Sorry. Go on.”

Bijal looked back at the legal pad and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “When O’Bannon was elected, she passed her management position at Arc of Orion on to her younger brother.”

“Okay, so she didn’t have any political experience before being elected?”

“No,” Bijal replied.

“And Mayor Denton has been in office for nearly four years. So with only a single two-year term under her belt, you guys can run on having more experience—an unusual strategy against an incumbent.”

“Well, get this. After O’Bannon’s girlfriend of three years was killed in the East Bay Abortion Clinic bombing and it yielded no prosecutions, she decided to run for Congress.”

“Damn,” Fran rasped. “That’s heartbreaking and inspiring at the same time.”

“I know, and I don’t think we can make the experience argument, because all Mayor Denton’s currently known for in Ravensdale is promising to cut property taxes and then actually having to raise them after she took office. She has a bit of a credibility problem to overcome.”

“Well, that
is
a problem. But O’Bannon can’t have accomplished too much in one term.”

“Actually, she co-sponsored the O’Bannon-Croft Hate Crimes bill that the president recently signed.”

“Oh,” Fran said. “She’s
that
O’Bannon.”

“Now you’re starting to see my dilemma.”

“I think so.”

Bijal consulted her notes again. “She’s also co-sponsoring that bill on nondiscrimination in the workplace that’s supposed to be introduced early next year. She’s a co-chair of the Congressional LGBT Equality Caucus, and a member of the House Armed Services Committee, the Committee on Foreign Affairs, and the House Select Committee on Energy Independence and Global Warming.”

“And Mayor Denton?”

“Is struggling to get cameras installed at the major intersection in her jerkwater, pissant town that would take pictures of drivers who run red lights.”

“Wow. Well, let me ask you, Bij, what’s your personal impression of the mayor? Do you think she’s qualified for Congress?”

Bijal thought about that as the train pulled up to their stop and she tucked her notes back into her bag. “I like her. She’s very personable.”

“Okay,” Fran said slowly as the doors opened and they strolled with the flow of the crowd into the station. “Is she smart?”

“She’s not stupid.”

“Hmm, not what I asked. Let me put it this way. Is O’Bannon smart?”

“Absolutely.”

“See that? There’s your problem right there. You need to go with the whole ‘my candidate may not be very bright, but she’s likeable’ strategy.” They rapidly filed out into the street.

“Well, it’s not like that hasn’t worked before,” Bijal replied.

“Please, don’t remind me. Now, tell me about the mayor.”

“She’s fifty-two and nearing the end of her first term. Before she was elected, she was a member of the city council. Her husband is a minister, and she has three kids that range in age from thirteen to twenty-two.”

Fran frowned.

“Yeah, not very exciting, is it?”

“And she doesn’t sound like the kind of person who people might find earthy or easy to relate to. She married a minister?”

“Well, someone has to.”

“Tell that to Catholic priests,” Fran said as they headed toward the flashing lights of Hector’s Hacienda.

“It should help secure her the right-wing vote,” Bijal said hopefully.

“Girl, you’re running against a liquor-peddling lesbian. The mayor could be married to a seven-foot rubber dildo with a Hitler mustache and she’d have the right-wing vote.”

“Yeah, but unfortunately, to appeal to moderates, she may have to walk that fine line where she risks losing the support of conservatives. I’m really banging my head against the wall here. I mean, how far to the left is too far?”

“You certainly have your work cut out for you.”

“The thing is,” Bijal said wistfully, “I’m worried that Donna is a loose cannon who isn’t exactly on the ball. Whatever chances we have become even more remote because she doesn’t ever seem to know what she’s talking about, never reads her e-mail, isn’t up on current events or issues, and spends most of her time blaming staff members for things she missed.”

“So, don’t worry so much about winning this election. Just chalk it up as experience for the résumé.”

“You know I don’t work that way, Fran. I can’t do things halfheartedly. I really want Janet Denton to win.”

“Even after everything you just told me?”

“I think she just needs to take control of her campaign—”

“And shitcan her campaign manager?”

“And get back on the right track. O’Bannon may be very involved for a first-term representative, but she’s part of the big-government, high-spending movement that most upper- and middle-class folks are tired of. I can help Janet become the right kind of candidate. She can be the socially moderate, fiscally responsible Republican people are looking for.”

They stood in the doorway of the noisy restaurant and Fran held up two fingers to the hostess, who waved them through to be seated.

“Well, if that’s what you think, then that’s what you run on.”

“Yeah, I just need Mayor Denton to agree.”

Fran looked up at the server who arrived promptly at their table. “We need a pitcher of frozen margaritas, my friend. And two glasses with salt.”

*

Bijal thumbed through the article she’d printed out. She’d been trying to read it for nearly fifteen minutes, but her mind kept drifting to the upcoming debate scheduled between Mayor Denton and Congresswoman O’Bannon.

After only two weeks on the job, she was starting to feel that Janet’s campaign was like a runaway freight train that she’d never be able to get back on track. So far, she’d had no success talking to the mayor without Donna there, and Donna was still spending a fair amount of time glaring at Bijal and threatening her job.