“If anybody knows anything about being retarded, it's Vince,” Brian jokes, providing a much needed tension-breaker at a time where tension is the highest. Vanessa even gives him a high five. The only one in the room that seems to be relaxed is Michael. Given the fact he has the most to lose, I have no idea why. Must be a military thing, I guess.
“Well done, Vince. You made me the school board's public enemy number one, but it’s what we needed. And, of course, a special thanks to Kylie who never seems to have a problem getting anything published these days.” He offers up a short round of applause and everyone joins in. I bow my head with some theatrics, but I mean it. I haven’t felt appreciated in a long time, and Michael’s words were sincere.
“What will you do if the board ends up voting against you?” Peyton asks.
“Fortunately, it won’t come to that,” a tall, leggy, blonde woman says as she breezes up to our little corner. She almost sounded disappointed. “You’re on thin ice, but still in the game.”
Michael rises and gives her a quick peck on the lips, which is barely returned. A guy like that only gets a peck? What the hell is wrong with her? I mean, maybe she had a long day or is stressed out, but I expected more support from the future Mrs. Bennit.
The students are exchanging celebratory high-fives and fist bumps like one of them returned to the dugout after crushing a grand slam.
“And you must be Kaylee Roberts,” Jessica says coolly.
“It’s Kylie, actually. Pleased to meet you, Jessica,” I respond, offering my hand to shake. After taking a moment to decide whether she wanted to, she begrudgingly accepts the gesture with the limpest handshake I have ever experienced. Really?
“I’m heading home. Try not to be too late tonight,” she says to Michael before whirring on her heels and sulking out the door. No goodbye kiss or anything. Things between them must be worse than Michael lets on because the chill is causing the windows to frost over.
I can see what attracted him to her though. In terms of physical beauty, she has few equals outside of fashion magazines and Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Editions. I mean, I feel downright ugly next to her. Damn, is she ever a bitch though. Or maybe I don’t like her for other, more personal reasons.
“I’m heading home, too. I have some homework to do, so I’ll see you tomorrow,” Vince says after packing his things.
“Bye, Vince. Great job these last couple of days,” Michael calls out as Vince shuffles toward the door.
The rest of the students file out in small groups, and I am left with Michael, who amazingly, is holding yet another refill of his espresso. How he can consume that much caffeine and still sleep is beyond me, and I consider myself a die-hard coffee drinker.
“Can I ask you a non-campaign related question?”
“So long as it doesn’t end up on the front page of tomorrow’s Wall Street Journal,” he responds, only half-kidding.
“Deal.” I can’t come up with a clever way to approach this so I go with the direct approach. “Did I read her wrong, or was your fiancée not thrilled with the board’s decision?”
Michael grimaces and pinches the bridge of his nose his index finger and thumb, pushing outward and tracing along his sinuses. He exhales deeply, and I begin to think I‘m not going to get an answer. He looks at me with eyes I can only characterize as wounded. It isn’t a look Michael appears comfortable wearing.
“I think she looked at this vote tonight as her ‘get out of jail free’ card. She’s not happy with this campaign, and was probably hoping the board would end it before she had to say something.”
“And when will she say something?”
Michael turns off his iPad and picks up his coffee, swirling the dark liquid around the cup. I think I overstepped a boundary in our relationship.
“I’m sorry. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it with me.”
“I really don’t, but not because of anything to do with you. I don’t know is the honest answer.” I keep forgetting he is a typical soldier, all go, no quit, and not the best at keeping in touch with his emotions. The way Jessica is acting must bother him, but probably has no idea what to do about it.
“I don't think I have thanked you for everything you've done for this campaign. The school board would have ended this if it weren’t for your article.”
“I'm just a simple reporter doing my part. You dodged a bullet, but only the first shot.”
“Yeah, I know, he’ll really be coming after me now.”
“If he can find an opening he will, and if he can’t, he’ll make one.” I know Michael realizes the cold, hard truth, but it isn’t any easier hearing someone say it. So far, the Bennit campaign has been a fun ride that could change into a nightmare at a moment’s notice.
“The problem is, he won’t find anything on me. His next move is a wild card. Not sure how the kids will react to what may be coming next.”
“They worship you,” I say. “They’ll stick with you through a lot.”
“I’m not sure about the worship part, but you can’t question their dedication. I’m very proud of them. Watching them makes everything worth it.”
I suddenly feel a little like Wile E. Coyote must when he realizes he ran off the end of the cliff and hangs there before plummeting to earth. When you are used to dealing with the egos representing us in Washington, any act of selflessness is truly shocking. So the stunning conclusion I just drew about the motive behind this race has me identifying with Looney Tunes characters.
“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” I ask as I lean closer to him. “It’s why you won’t mention your military service or take a firm stand on issues. This campaign isn’t about you, it’s about them.” He didn’t need to say anything, because for the first time since I met him, his face gave it away.
“I will never question your investigative skills,” he says, somewhat weakly trying to recover. He gave that ground up way to easily, so there must be more.
“That’s not the whole story though, is it?” I press.
“Enough of it. So what happens now?”
I know I am quickly losing objectivity. I shudder at the thought that I am turning into my sister, the voice of a campaign instead of the dispassionate reporter covering it. Part of me is disappointed to discover he may not be as serious about taking on Beaumont as I thought. The other part is captivated at the thought a teacher would go so far for a lesson.
“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. If you’re not going to issue trust, you have to give me the chance to earn it. If you really want to make this about them, then let’s make it about them. I have an idea for getting you the exposure you want. Just let me give you one warning – be careful what you wish for.”
.
-THIRTY-
CHELSEA
Kylie ran her ‘Profiles’ series of articles about the staff the week following the school board’s decision to let Mister Bennit continue the campaign. When I read them, I was like, oh my God. I never thought the stories would get picked up by the big news companies, so it was shocking to see my name splashed on the pages of every newspaper and mentioned in every telecast in the country.
Brian, Xavier, Amanda, Peyton, Vince, Vanessa and even Emilee got similar attention in the three-part series. The media obsesses over ratings, and since the public interest in our Spartan campaign went through the roof leading up to the school board’s decision, so did their appetite for stories about us. The ‘Profiles’ pieces gave them exactly what they were looking for, and made us household names in the process.
At first, the attention was pretty cool. Kids in school who never knew my name started saying hi to me in the hallway. I became instantly recognizable in town, and started to feel like an A-List celebrity without the designer clothes, makeup, and completely flawless skin. I even got asked out on a date or two, much to Dad’s dismay.
Now we are getting a first-hand lesson in the downside of popularity, too. Media interest translates into a serious lack of p
rivacy, and working out of the Perkfect Buzz, we are practically on display like zoo animals.
“Okay, you got your shots. Now be dolls and move out please,” Laura chides from outside our roped off area, shooing away three men taking pictures of us. That woman has the patience of a saint for dealing with all this.
Photographers and other members of the press follow us everywhere like paparazzi. You see things like that on TV, but never expect it to happen to you. When it does, the novelty of the experience wears off fast. I look horrible on TV when I get filmed coming and going. After the first day or two, I began questioning the sanity of every reality television star willing to let a camera follow them around.
Being chased around by photographers is just the tip of the iceberg. Reporters, cable news networks, and daytime programs like Katie and The View started ringing our phones off the hook and asking for interviews not long after the ‘Profiles’ articles. Mister Bennit has been contacted by everyone from The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and The Colbert Report, to 60 Minutes and Meet the Press. Vince even got a call from The Tonight Show, or so he swears. I think he’s full of crap.
As the pressure for interviews increased, we made the decision as a group not to do any over Vince and Peyton’s protests. We aren’t supposed to be the face of the campaign, Mister Bennit is. We did do a few feature interviews for some specialty magazines, but they were for fun and not at all political.
Turning down the repeated requests for special interviews has driven the media bonkers. We feared ignoring the offers would hurt the campaign, but it is having the opposite effect. The search for the latest scoop on the Bennit campaign has turned our little town into a media circus.
A few days ago, Laura finally had enough and made the media trucks assemble on a first-come, first-serve basis in the ten spots at the far back of the parking lot. The number of complaints from her paying customers about lack of parking prompted her to take action, but it hasn’t slowed the coverage down one bit.
Mobs of reporters and photographers are everywhere around town, and the stories about us dominate the news. It is like the Jon Benet Ramsey murder, Natalie Holloway disappearance and O.J. Simpson trial all wrapped into one, or so Dad tells me. It’s completely nuts.
Life in the fishbowl resulting from the media craze has brought us closer together as a staff. Outside of Vince and Peyton, none of us want the attention. With so much to do for the campaign and grades to keep up, we rely on each other for support to keep afloat. Used to the spotlight as good athletes, Vanessa and Xavier have tolerated the constant intrusions better than the more reclusive Amanda and Emilee. Amanda shed her CPA look with Peyton’s help, and we all found out she is far prettier than we ever thought. Emilee is so shy I thought she might quit the campaign. The hoopla bothered poor Brian the most, being the most introverted of our small group.
As we have become more of a media fascination, really funny things have started to happen. We have come to call it the ‘One Direction Effect’ after the boy band that won a realty television competition and became a near-instant success. Even the people who didn’t particularly like their music began to get caught up in the mania for the sole reason that everyone else was. This feels like the same.
Volunteers from the school started showing up in droves a couple of weeks ago to make signs and help recruit others. At Millfield High, being a part of the campaign was the new hip thing to do. After a long summer of doing all the grunt work, it was awesome to have an army of people to help. Best of all, it didn’t end with our little town.
Word spread to surrounding towns in the area like wildfire. We’ve used our newfound manpower to organize efforts across the district, and the results are amazing. Signs are going up everywhere, not just in Millfield. And I don’t mean the mass-produced kind you see pounded into the grass at every major traffic intersection.
No, these signs are hand-made with supplies from Home Depot. Tarpaulins spray painted with ‘Michael Bennit for Congress’ are getting hung off front porches. Cardboard placards are materializing in front yards with our ‘www.icandidate.org’ web address on it. And despite the thrill of seeing the progress of our campaign on the way to school, it was nothing compared to what was happening in social media.
“How are we making out, Bri,” I ask, putting my hand on his shoulder.
“This is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Look at these numbers!” Brian exclaims, unable to stifle his over-caffeinated excitement.
Kylie put out our web address, Facebook page and Twitter account details on each of the ‘Profiles’ articles. Every day, literally thousands of businesses and people try to make their page go viral. We actually did it. Our Facebook page likes broke the one million mark last week. As of yesterday, @MichaelBennit had almost three times that number of Twitter followers. Not exactly Justin Bieber numbers, but not bad for a teacher-politician. And the #icandidate has been trending for two straight weeks now.
“Great work, Brian. How are we doing on content?”
“We can always use more, but I’m pretty sure Xavier and Vanessa have people working on that,” Brian adds, dividing his attention between me and the screen.
“Okay, let me know if you need anything.”
Of course, we haven’t stopped at just Facebook and Twitter. We rank high on the sharing sites like Reddit, Digg and StumbleUpon, and enjoy tremendous popularity on Pinterest and Instagram. Our You Tube channel is getting a lot of uploads from fans and volunteers. Students check into our volunteer meetings on FourSquare, and the new badge they offer for being a ‘Bennitite’ has become a must have for every student in school. The list goes on from there.
We have leveraged everything we can to reach people, including email and web chats. Essentially, any and every electronic medium available to get our message is being used to full effect. Looking out into the parking lot at the army of media, it seems to be working. I am now managing a campaign effort that has become the epicenter of the political world. But through it all, there is still something missing.
Mister Bennit talks about grand ideas, but he still isn’t addressing controversial issues. He quotes the Framers’ words at the Constitutional Convention and relates them to today’s reality, but I have yet to hear him take a stand on abortion, gun control, gay marriage, or any of the other hot button issues of the day.
Not that any of that has mattered much. Despite the Beaumont and Johnson campaigns whining about it, nobody really seems to care here at the height of Bennit fever. I only wonder how long that will last.
.
-THIRTY-ONE-
KYLIE
“Nice to see you haven’t given up all your prodigal habits considering you’re unemployed,” the voice behind me chirps.
“I have been spending a lot of time in a coffee shop lately,” I say to Bill as he slides into the seat next to me at the long counter by the window. “Now I’m addicted. How did you know I was here?”
On a normal day, I wouldn’t think twice about running into Bill at this lower Manhattan Starbucks. But since I have been spending so much time in Connecticut, I’m a little curious how he knew I was even in the city, let alone here.
“I have my sources.”
“What are you in the CIA or something?” I ask with a little laugh, but am almost serious. Anything is possible these days.
“No, just a lowly journalist whose life you’ve made miserable. Thanks to your antics up north, I’m now forced to write article after article about some small town named Millfield and anything and everything about its most famous teacher.”
“You expect me to apologize for that?” I ask, laughing.
“No. I’m just amazed you were able to take an unknown candidate and turn him into a household name in only a month,” Bill says, taking his eyes off the blonde at the other side off the shop just long enough to convey sincerity.
He is right. It’s only the beginning of October and anyone in the district who hadn’t heard of Michael Bennit was
either out on an African safari or living under a rock. He even has the national name recognition a first-time candidate for president could only drool over.
“All the free media Bennit is getting is driving the Beaumont campaign bat shit crazy,” Bill says, breaking eye contact again to ogle the girl at the register paying for her herbal tea concoction.
“I bet. I noticed their commercials started hitting the airwaves in force about a week after the ‘Profile’ articles.”
“They started their political campaign machine once they realized the Bennit story wasn’t going to go away on its own.”
I had figured that out on my own. We dominated the evening news every night, and they had to respond. Now we highlight the evening news, and in between stories about us are commercials about him. The first barrage of paid ads stressed his leadership and service in Congress and the things he had done for the district. They must have spent a fortune, because they were on every station at every conceivable hour.
About a week ago, the second set of commercials started getting nastier, complaining about Bennit’s lack of experience, and so on. He used his loyal political action committees to fill the airwaves with the same political crap people label as “mudslinging” and then try to ignore each election season. The thought of it makes by blood pressure shoot up.
“Beaumont’s a coward. He is keeping himself distanced by going negative by proxy,” I conclude in disgust. “Enlisting high-profile mayors to come out in force against Michael by ruthlessly questioning everything from his military service to his teaching ability is shameful.”
“What do you expect? They have no voting record to distort,” Bill says, eliciting a smile from me. “Don’t sweat it. The airwaves may have balanced out, but you are still the center of attention.”
“I don’t work for Michael Bennit, Bill.”
The iCandidate Page 14