by Leon Uris
grandmother-in-law Siobhan, who was Falling to cancer.
Rae, a computer scientist at the Atmospheric Research Institute in Boulder, took a leave of absence to set up and operate the campaign headquarters’ computers. She reported to Greer on everything from collections to travel reservations to advertising.
Rae tried one four-day campaign swing with the candidate, and that was
enough! . because everything blurred together: airports, welcoming
committees, Secret Service men moving back TV cameras, shouting
correspondents, “Would you mind a picture with Mrs. Gumport?” “I’d
love it!” Quinn would answer .. . hamburgers, baloney sandwiches,
tourist class, Big 8 motels, polls, TV studios, talk radio shows,
ballrooms, school auditoriums, “Let’s hear a rah-rah O’Connell,” homes
for the aged, beady-eyed big donors, wide-eyed girls with short skirts,
throw out the first pitch, press conferences, more press conferences, short parades in small towns, Irish, Jews, Italians, Gulf Coast fishermen, Mexicans, wheat farmers, black mayors, white mayors, tan mayors .. . Sunday. “Rita, you go pray for me, honey, we’ve got meetings every twenty minutes” .. . Internet, outer nets, books as wisdom, “Can we get this pressed and have it back in an hour?” .. . “What the hell do you mean, I’ve got a fever? I can’t have a fever, because I’ve got to be in Des Moines,” “We need cash, boss,” position papers, “Happy Days Are Here Again!” .. . orange juice, lots of orange juice .. . “Am I going to have time to go to the John?” .. . “Sorry, not till our next stop, Governor.”
Chad Humboldt blistered the South through innuendo. The word Catholic was not used out loud, but it played in the Christian Right churches. The gist of it was that O’Connell is only pretending to be one of us, but he isn’t. He’s a brooding mountain man, and when he looks you in the eye it is impossible to know if he is truthful. “Let us not forget that we have had presidents who looked us in the eye and lied through their teeth.”
Chad Humboldt was a generations fixture supported by a sudden coalition of politicians in Florida, Louisiana, Mississippi, Oklahoma, Tennessee, and mighty Texas. Be cautious of the stranger. Be cautious of his inexperienced views on the issues. Humboldt wove around the gun-control issue but warned of a stranger who would steal away the traditions.
JACKSON, MISSISSIPPI MONDAY
MARCH 10, 2008 “You’re going to the well once too often,” Greer snapped. “It won’t play in Jackson.”
“It played in Atlanta.”
“It had great surprise and shock value, granted, but that was then and now is now. No electorate is going to keep listening to morality plays. We are in Apache country, Quinn.”
“Ummmm.” “Rita, Mal, help me, for chrissake.”
Mal scanned the polls. “We’re behind in every Southern state—well, you’ve got a small lead in Oklahoma, but they’re a sister state to Colorado.”
Quinn did not speak. He seemed to be drifting off again in some kind of narcoleptic state with an inner concentration that shut out external noises.
“If I were a gambler,” Mal said, “I’d say, go ahead, make your doom-and-gloom population-control speech. This isn’t a gamble. You’re going to lay an egg.”
“So we’re going down either way! What can I do but gamble?”
“Play it safe,” Greer said. “And let’s get out of here with our ass intact and go crazy in the big Midwestern states. That’s only a week away .. . and then California.”
Duncan arrived with a late bulletin. “Dad, Denver reports we picked up over three hundred thousand this week.”
“Good, we won’t have to hitchhike out of here,” Quinn said.
Otherwise, Quinn was stubbornly silent and the rest, gnash ingly frustrated, wanted to shake him.
“Fuck it!” Greer screamed.
“You’ve grown awfully hardheaded,” Mal said. “Your state senate office in Colorado was a place of conciliation and compromise.”
“Because,” Quinn answered drudgingly “whether Democrat or Republican we were all hard-core Coloradans. Maybe we’ve treated these people down here like country bumpkins for too long. There are issues besides the Second Amendment that I have to save for Thornton Tomtree. We have to hold our fire until we see him in the crosshairs. Hey, guys, love you all. I’ve got to get some sleep.”
“And the next president of the United States, Quinn Patrick O’Connell!”
“.. . one thing in this campaign has really bugged me, and that is my challengers trying to put across the idea that I come from a strange place to a place where I have no business. They go further. They say, “What can a governor from a small mountain and prairie state possibly know about Southern history and tradition and politics? If, God forbid, a Coloradan gets to the White House, what will happen to us?” I resent the past isolation of the South, and I resent the Chad Humboldts who want to keep this isolation going.
“I resent it when I am told, do not make a doom-and-gloom speech in Mississippi. Do not bring up overpowering moral issues because the Mississippi electorate can’t get it. They want honey on their hush puppies.
“I believe an informed electorate, an informed American electorate, North, East, South, or West, should be aware of the concerns of our leaders. I am deeply worried about a lot of things which can no longer be shoved into the closet.
“So, muffle the drums. We are gutting this planet close to the point of no return.”
Greer closed her eyes, but the thumping of her heart could almost be heard. Duncan took his mother’s hand. Both hands were wet. Maldonado felt a hard stab, and wanted to stand up and scream for Quinn to stop.
“... In a word, we are taking more out of the planet than the planet has to give in order to sustain life.
“All over we see ominous signs of a lessening quality of life, bald
spots for shopping malls ripped out of the evergreen forests of New
Zealand .. . Indians fighting off elephants coming right to the village
edge to get at the leaves in the tall trees .. . wood bearers having to
go miles to find firewood that used to be on the edge of their fields
.. . dead fish who can’t get over the dam, crushed by generator blades
.. . green slime we spill back into our waters that takes the oxygen
away from millions of shellfish .. . the shark, the most ancient and perfect fighting machine, now facing extinction. Sixteen lanes of blacktop running the length of Florida, covering forever destroyed rich pastures. Deep plowing that has eroded our great prairie farmlands and blown away irreplaceable topsoil.
“Yes, I believe that the people of Mississippi understand this. And I know you understand when I say that fifty thousand people die of starvation and malnutrition every bloody day of the year. Sixteen million deaths from hunger a year—a child dies every six seconds.
“The planet, with all its great agricultural innovations, cannot feed our present world population of four billion people. How in the name of God is it going to feed eight billion, the number that will inhabit the earth this century.
“We must chart an intelligent course through these mine fields. I know that population control offends my church and many of your beliefs. I know that from the beginning of time poor men have counted their riches in the number of children they could produce. It is a luxury we can no longer afford, and it’s going to happen to your children and grandchildren unless we recognize what’s going on and do something about it!”
“Tell me, and I’m listening, how we are going to survive to see the next century without population control? .. .”
“Oh, Jesus, he did it!”
Florida: Humboldt 64% O’Connell 35% Hawaii: Humboldt 21% O’Connell 79%
Louisiana: Humboldt 53% O’Connell 47% Mississippi: Humboldt 50%
O’Connell 48% Oklahoma: Humboldt 40% O’Connell Oregon: Humboldt 33% O’Connell 62% Tennessee: Humboldt 45% O’Connel
l
46% Texas: Humboldt 51% O’Connell 44%
Thornton Tomtree took two top White House people and moved them to his election campaign. Hugh Mendenhall, a hefty, bubbly wizard of the polls, and Dr. Jacob Turnquist, the analyst. They were close enough to T3 not to be overcome with fear in his presence. Like any great executive, Thornton allowed those close to him to take him on and speak their minds.
The nation had undergone the first anniversary of the Four Corners Massacre. Thornton had flown over Six Shooter Canyon in a helicopter and afterward laid the cornerstone of the permanent memorial.
He had done just enough on his unopposed Republican reelection campaign to keep his name high, and took the convention by acclamation.
But so had Governor Quinn Patrick O’Connell in a boisterous, bombastic Democratic convention in Detroit.
On Thornton’s return to Washington, he called in Hugh Mendenhall and Dr. Jacob Turnquist and repaired with them and Darnell to Camp David.
“Ahhh!” said the President.
“Ahhh!” Turnquist and Mendenhall agreed.
“Ahhh!” said Darnell, and poured from the large pitchers of Bloody Marys. The President’s steward adjusted the awnings to keep the sun off the patio.
Darnell Jefferson lay back in a chaise longue chair as a listener. The time was here to start blazing away at the Democratic opponent. The weekend was to detail strategic warfare. There was the sound of celery stalks being crunched.
“Our jingle-jangle rope-a-dope cowboy is going to be a handful,” the President said.
“I couldn’t believe it,” Mendenhall bubbled. “O’Connell talking birth control in Mississippi. He’s got to trip and fall; he’s too disorganized and reckless.”
Jacob Turnquist always had his authoritative, sincere, goa teed, think-tank expression. “Or,” he suggested, “are we dealing with a political genius? He knows, like a bird riding the wind, just how far he can ride any issue. He is developing quasi fanatic followers .. . and keep in mind, all he has done so far is to present himself with a soft-shoe dance. He has only touched on significant issues superficially. He has given the Second Amendment wide berth. Why? Until he got control of the party—now he can take dead aim at you. Up to the day he won the convention, he took wild gambles to gain attention ... for example, financing through populist means .. . we are now facing close to two million voters who have invested in him, who will show up at the polls.”
“Clever desperation. It worked this time. It never worked before,” Mendenhall said. “We’ve got to look back to Four Corners to understand the trepidation the voters still have.”
Tomtree spoke, and both leaned forward, Darnell still the quiet, removed observer. “What the son of a bitch has done,” the President said, “is deliberately start an erosion of our Southern base. A lot of Baptist women are on birth-control pills, and a lot of Baptist women don’t like the guns in their husbands’ closets. His invasion was either going to blow him out of the race or establish him as a powerful new force. Now, what are we dealing with?”
Turnquist spoke keenly, sincerely, earnestly. “Quinn and Chad Humboldt barely slapped each other’s wrists. Our ace in the hole, Vice President Hope, has held his end of the coalition of the right wing together for twenty years.”
“It’s our imperative,” the President said. “The vice president will be here tomorrow to get his marching orders.”
“We’re still leading in the South,” Mendenhall insisted. “It’s still O’Connell’s to take, and my money is on Matthew Hope.”
“Have we got anything on O’Connell?”
“He’s refused to answer questions of a personal nature,” Hugh Mendenhall went on. “I think, maybe, the press has gotten his message. They now approach him with caution, even respect, one might say.”
“The man has a rock-solid reputation for honesty.”
“Nothing festering on the Greet Little-Crowder hump-up?” Thornton asked.
“That was thirty years ago, Mr. President. They were college students. Besides, we are in an era that flinches away from sex scandals,” Turnquist said.
“Bullshit,” the President shot back. “They’ll stop flinching when they get another juicy one to chomp into. We’re not going to lose sight of this odd relationship. If not O’Connell, Greer Little has had a reputation as a naughty girl.” They all laughed and sipped, save Darnell.
“If we can find one major indiscretion to take him down off his god pedestal, we’ve got to push it, hard. The instant he’s cut down to human status, the coyotes will ravage him.”
“We’ll do a rerun of his history,” Turnquist said. “You are right on, Mr. President. When a holier than thou falls by the wayside, he’s cooked.”
“Having established his persona, O’Connell is going to switch to issues—“ Mendenhall said.
“But,” Tomtree said, “each time we nail him, we also bring up the gunslinger, reckless, irresponsible, dangerous side of the man. This is where the cowboy is most vulnerable.”
The vice president called from Washington. He would be helicoptering to Camp David within the hour. Good!
“Should we do anything about him being an orphan .. . you know, a puzzled childhood ... all that?”
“There could be rumors floated about his biological parents.
Certainly we have friends who can raise the issue. And that wife of his. Any nudes of her around?” Mendenhall asked.
“Look into it, Hugh, but very, very carefully. Now, here’s what we’re going to do. TV and print ads are almost ready. There will be three takes of each ad: high, medium, low, low meaning negative, fuck the truth, innuendo or personal attack. If, for example, the low ads don’t work in Seattle, we try medium and high ads in Kansas City and Chicago until we know what works where. That’s a big, big job for you, Hugh. Don’t make any goddamn accusation we can’t slip out of!”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“I want all future ads run past Darnell.”
“Absolutely, Mr. President.”
“Got that, Darnell?”
“Ummm,” Darnell said, refilling his glass.
“Darnell, you’ve been very quiet,” Tomtree said.
“Just awed by the process.”
“What part of this don’t you like?” Tomtree pressed.
“Most of it. You’ve got to ride out to meet this Quinn on the mountainside. You’re not going to tunnel up to him. He’s breaking down our coalitions, for chrissake. He has become somewhat Churchillian in his speeches. He knows he is on the great issue of the century.”
“And?” the President asked.
“Take the Second Amendment issue away from him or cloud it up. Or, for God’s sake, even join him.”
“Join him?”
“Join him?”
“Join him?”
“It would show that you realize the time of the gun is over and you have’ the courage to come forth with a staggering and enlightened position. That’s how to beat this guy!”
The President pressed his fingers together and closed his eyes. Ballsy idea, but mad. “What are we looking at, Hugh?”
“After the convention you had a fourteen-point lead, plus or minus three percent. It’s down to eleven, but you know, it could be virtually the same.”
“Jacob, do we take this campaign up into the plains of heaven?”
“It’s a political campaign, and my feeling is that he has alienated the press, which will jump on your bandwagon the instant he slips.”
“Excuse me, I stand corrected,” Darnell satirized. “What do you want to do about the debates?”
“Well, he needs to debate me to try to catch me. I’d set down extremely restrictive terms, limitations on questions and positions. If, God forbid, my lead falls down to single digits, then we slide into serious negotiations. No more than two debates and keep the rules confusing.”
“Bear in mind,” Darnell said, “that if O’Connell keeps gaining, we may have to go to him for the debate.”
&n
bsp; “It will never happen,” Mendenhall said.
“Never,” Jacob Turnquist agreed.
When it was apparent that Governor O’Connell was going to sweep the Democratic convention, the governors of Texas, New York, Florida, and California, hat in hand, pitched for the vice presidential nomination.
Quinn instead pulled a rabbit out of the hat by reaching back for Senator Chad Humboldt, his main opponent in the primaries, even though there was a difference on some issues. Humboldt was, quite simply, the best man. Moreover, the senator could neutralize Vice President Matthew Hope in the South.
After a year of mourning, the public looked anxiously toward the coming election. Quinn hit the ground running.
As governor he had sought and brokered an environmental and land-use bill that encompassed ranchers, mining interests, the ski industry developers, and private landowners, preserving open space and ranch land forever.
The University of Colorado had been upgraded to one of the top ten state schools.
Colorado was the best-managed tourist state.
Colorado had more foreign import-export deals than any state west of the Mississippi River, other than California and Texas.
The Denver Symphony had been made into one of the nation’s best, and Denver became a cultural oasis.
There was an impressive list of accomplishments in secondary education, child care, welfare, and he had shut down two of the state’s more obnoxious HMOs.
Leading the parade, the issue to repeal the Second Amendment now opened for business.
DENVER, OCTOBER 1, 2008
Greer heard the nasty sound of the phone and put a pillow over her head. The ring persisted. She clicked on her table lamp and simultaneously clicked on her head.
“Greer,” she said.
“This is Darnell Jefferson.”
“Hi, Darnell, what have you been doing with yourself lately?”
“Greer, you’re going to have to excuse the hour, but I just got through with my meetings. Are we on a secure line?”
“You bet.”
“Do we trust each other?”