Tyrant

by T. M. Frazier

Page 24

  “Ramie! So good to see you!” A short plump man wearing an off white linen suit stepped into my line of view. He grabbed a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter and handed it to me. “How was Paris?” he asked.

  “Parisian?” I said. His laugh came out in one big burst, like a shot through a cannon.

  “I see you gained a sense of humor in France. Hard to do. The French aren’t exactly known for their humor,” he said. “Are you still considering art school? Francine said your drawings are quite impressive. How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

  Crap.

  My father came over and stood by my side. With a smile still on his face he waved to the passers-by who called out greetings and returned them with his own. With a stealth-like move, he took the champagne glass out of my hand and held it in his, like the drink was his own.

  Shit. Drinking age. Not allowed. I mentally chastised myself. “George, my friend, how have you been? Ramie was just saying how she and Francine needed to catch up. And art school is so far away in Rhode Island. I think now that she has a family of her own, she’ll be sticking close to home. ”

  “Ah, then you will be joining your father on the campaign trail?” he asked me.

  “We haven’t really talked about it yet,” I answered as sweetly as I could manage.

  “Well, I think you should consider it. Seeing this man behind a podium is a wondrous thing to behold,” George said, holding up his glass to my father.

  “Ah, you are too kind George. Let’s have lunch this week, if you’re up for it. ”

  “Always am,” George said. “Ah, I see Nathan over there. He owes me twenty pounds of stone crab claws for losing our bet on the Rays game. Oops…” He said covering his mouth. “I shouldn’t tell our future president about my betting habits should I?”

  “I’m a politician George, not the police. And Nathan’s stone crabs are the best, so I can’t fault you for that wager. ”

  “I look forward to hearing you speak,” George said. “Lovely to see you again, Ramie. I will tell Francine to give you a call. ”

  “That would be great,” I said. When George was out of earshot, my father, with his smile still plastered on his face, leaned in so only I could hear him.

  “Champagne?” he asked through his teeth.

  “He handed it to me. I wasn’t thinking,” I said apologetically. “I’m trying here, so cut me some slack. I did what you asked of me. Besides, I have a kid and technically a husband, and I can’t have a glass of champagne? Maybe you need to add that to your political platform. ”

  “Yeah, and then I’ll make sure to go ahead and legalize prostitution and call the cartels to see if maybe they want to set up some coke shops. Like a 7-11 for illegal drugs. ”

  “Holy shit. If you weren’t such a prick, you’d actually be kind of funny,” I said. A loud cackling ripped through the air and the senator’s eyes darted over to where my mother and the other women, who looked like stepford wives and drank like members of the Beach Bastards, were reaching their limits. “And if you’re really dead set on the booze thing, maybe you should think about reinstating prohibition. ”

  “Noted,” he said, making his way over to my mother. I watched as he used the same technique to take away her drink as he did with me. My mother shot him a glare when no one else was looking, and at one point, pinched his arm behind his back far enough to where I saw him visibly wince.

  One thing was for sure, this life was turning me into a raging bitch.

  “Champagne, ma’am?” A familiar voice asked from behind me. I turned around and found myself eye level with a black dress shirt and a school bus yellow bow tie with pink stripes. I looked to the tray he was holding and I could’ve sworn that I saw colorful tattoos peeking out on the upturned wrist holding the tray of champagne flutes.

  I sucked in a breath.

  Preppy?

  My hands trembled.

  Just as I was about to look up at the waiters face the screeching feedback from the microphone came blaring over the speakers. I covered my ears and turned around to where my father had made his way up to the makeshift stage set up on the side of Tanner’s pool house.

  The senator was tapping on the microphone and gesturing for someone off stage to come make the adjustment when I spun back around to the waiter, but he was already gone. And when I looked around for him I found several of the same dark shirts and yellow bow ties, all holding trays with the same champagne flutes, fizzing with pink bubbles.

  I’m seeing things. Mind and body are both now rejecting my farce of a life.

  “Mommy!” a little voice broke through the crowd. Sammy came crashing against my leg. I smiled and lifted him up and set him on my hip in a move that felt natural to me. Nadine, who had been chasing him around the party-goers, appeared next to me, out of breath.

  “Your little one is getting fast,” she said, with her hands on her knees. “Don’t let those little legs fool ya. He can really move! Either that, or I’m out of shape. Could be both,” she huffed. Nadine had traded her usual Polo and khakis for a button down black dress shirt and black pants. Instead of her orthopedic black sneakers, she was wearing a pair of rounded-toe, shiny black ballet flats.

  “You look great, Nadine,” I said. She returned the compliment with a roll of her eyes.

  “I’m just glad I wore black,” she said, fanning herself. “Because I’m sweating like we’re standing in the middle of Hades with the devil himself. ”

  I thought King was the devil. But I was sure that I was in hell and he was nowhere to be found. I looked up at the stage. And I was pretty sure that the devil voted republican and wore Hugo Boss.

  “Mommy, Nay-neene couldn’t catch me!” Sammy exclaimed. “I fast! I fast like this!” he said, holding up the red Matchbox Corvette he held in his hands and flying it around in the air.

  “Oh yeah? Are you being good for Miss Nadine?” I asked him, ruffling up his perfectly combed hair, his natural curls springing to life, his little giggle exposing his bottom row of adorably super tiny teeth.

  “Nope,” he said, still looking at his car. His natural curls sprang to life. “There, that’s better,” I said, smushing my nose against his. I was too busy interacting with Sammy when Nadine cleared her throat. When I looked up I noticed that a lot of the crowd had stopped doing what they were doing and were watching me interact with my son.

  My father was back on the microphone, sans interference, and the crowd turned from me to him. My mother stood obediently off to his left, next to the long American flag. He started his speech by welcoming the crowd to the event and mentioning the charities that would be benefiting from the silent auction and donations they received during the evening. “What did I miss?” Tanner said, pushing through the crowd to stand next to me and Samuel. “Hey kiddo! High five!” Samuel lifted his palm up and Tanner pressed a high five to his hand. “All right buddy, you’re getting good at that. ”

  “Not much. He just started,” I said.

  The senator paused and looked out over the crowd. He took the cards from the podium and placed them into the pocket of his dress shirt. “I had all these notes prepared. I wanted to talk with you about the agenda of the campaign and about what we hope to achieve over the next few months. But I can’t do that right now. ” The crowd murmured in confusion and a few shouted the “Why not?” the senator was obviously fishing for.

  “I’ve made no secret that family, and traditional American, and Christian values are one of the most important things to me to withhold during this campaign. ” The crowd applauded and he held up his hand to silence them. “But as you know, family isn’t always predictable. It isn’t something you can control,” he said. “As you all know by now, either through rumor or from reading it in the paper recently, a few years ago, I became a grandfather. ”

  It was the first time I heard him reference Sammy as anything other than my son. Grandfather wasn’t exactly the title I would hav
e given him either.

  “My daughter, Ramie, and her boyfriend, Tanner, made a decision to enter into a relationship they weren’t ready for at the tender age of fifteen. I’m not excusing their actions nor their behavior but what some of you don’t know is that Tanner was sick…. ”

  “Oh my God, he’s telling them everything,” I said, covering my mouth in shock. Tanner grabbed my hand and held it in his.

  “I’m not surprised,” he muttered. “Did you really think he was just going to let them think we were two horny teenagers who had sex under his roof? Too much blame in that. He’s going to blame my illness now. This is an art form to him. More so than your sketches are to you. He’s creating emotion, opinions. He’s telling them what they need to think without coming right out and saying it. It’s kind of beautiful if you think about it. ”

  “You don’t sound embarrassed,” I said. “You sound impressed. ”

  “I’m not embarrassed. He’s telling the truth. It’s us. Nothing about us would ever bother me, Ray. Besides, it’s probably the most honest thing he’s said all day,” Tanner said, staring at the stage with an interest that made me uncomfortable.