Far Afield

XX

137 XX We now sat in the place where we had conducted our first meeting , the narrow shaded porch at the edge of Trevor’s backyard. Though he had protested this spot, for psychology’s sake I wanted to stay out of the dimly lighted strategy room. Here I felt the open space of the outdoors might reinforce the theme of opportunism I was about to introduce. In this ploy, I recalled and reversed Stalin’s infamous unlit vestibule that plunged visitors into sudden darkness just before they met him. Who knows how many bloody deals were consummated after that simple act of intimidation? Likewise, Trevor’s feet once again were planted in his plastic tub of watery balm. That, I noted, was also to my benefit. Immobile , he would be on the receiving end of my physical movements and be forced to consider them without distraction. Still though, he was cross with me, not having recalled the scheduling of a review session and unsure as to what strategy needed to be resolved. He loudly called for the old housemaid and angrily thrust a nearempty pitcher of juice at her to refill before turning his attention to me. So before he could get too far, I interrupted him. “Let me speak plainly,” I began. “First, I want to commend you. You’ve done an exceptional job and this campaign has shown you at your finest. The crowds and feeling are genuinely with you and in the eyes of the nation you’ve proven that you deserve the presidency . That is a tremendous accomplishment considering the many 138 Far Afield difficulties you’ve had to overcome. It has been a long but satisfying journey.” I paused. “Still, given the circumstances, there’s only one alternative available now. It’s not easy, but in my opinion, you should quit the race immediately. To preserve your efforts and your good name.” Not used to others having the verbal leap on him, Trevor’s mouth worked in silence for a moment. Then his voice discharged in a guttural blast. “Quit? Are you mad? This is the most support I’ve ever had! I’m standing now on the verge of triumph!” I shook my head and replied as smoothly as I could. “It’s the only option left. You’ve moved among the leaders but that’s as high as you’ll go. I’ve just read the most recent polling data from the papers. At this rate, Stanley will win by five to six points, Van Gland will fall away by the weekend, and you’ll score another two to three points, maybe four. You’re gaining but not quickly enough. The survey is accurate to three percentage points.” “Quit!” He was livid now and rose from his chair, his feet still in the tub. “I am recovering. I am gaining. You said so yourself. What about the newspaper figures?” “Not fast enough,” I repeated. “To win, you need something significant to happen, a dramatic turn or a reversal that can send you in another direction. Barring that, the script is written and will play itself out.” I stopped, then said meaningfully. “As I said, quitting is your only option.” It was then that he saw I was leading to something and the light came on in his eyes like lamps in a fog bank. He stepped out of his medicine water and padded over to me, sloshing and dripping on the wooden slat floor, his interest in himself pulling him toward his own magnetic north. He gripped my arm tightly. “My only option?” he asked, hushed. “How?” “Tomorrow,” I answered. “You’ll have a press conference surrounded by a crowd of supporters. The subject will ostensibly be your call to increase funding for Esperanto instruction but in a short address, you shall withdraw from the race citing forces that Scott Brown 139 have corrupted the values and leadership you sought to bring to the campaign. Resigning is the only way to maintain your integrity in a crumbling system that continues to deny the will of MomoJimans everywhere.” “And where will this leave me?” “Whereyouaretoday.Yournamewillremainontheballotsince it’s too late to remove it and soon it will become known that you don’t object to receiving votes as a protest against the current malfeasance in government. After tomorrow, your official campaign is over and you will remain in seclusion until the...