Manhattan Miracle

by Dawning, Dee

  "That's ridiculous," Crowe, a brawny, balding, blue-eyed man with shaggy shoulder-length hair, argued. "There is no war on women. Men idolize women."

  "Humph! If you don't mind! Jeff asked me a question, and I was answering before you rudely interrupted. As for your assertion that men adore women, most men do, but not the petty Republican men. They think women, despite being fifty-one percent of the electorate, having a measly seventeen percent of the seats in Congress, is too much. They think women heading twelve of the fortune five-hundred companies is too many, and they have the nerve to think women making seventy-seven cents for every dollar men make is too much!

  Crowe ran his fingers through his long, dark blond hair. "May I speak now?"

  Tightlipped, Molly glowered at Crowe, but Jeff said, "Go ahead."

  "The seventy-seven percent figure has been debunked. Men work more hours and overtime. More men have second jobs while many women only work part time."

  Molly snarled. "That's total horse shit and you know it."

  "No, facts don't lie."

  "Unless they come from the republican media—Wolf News."

  "We're talking about your figures, not mine."

  Molly shoved her chair back, stood up and stuck her chin out. "You don't scare me, you walking bag of misinformation. We're talking about equal work for an equal amount of time and women make three quarters of what men make. If that isn't bad enough you're trying to take us back to the Donna Reed Show days—to the Father Knows Best days. Well listen, you…you Neanderthal, father doesn't know best. He never did. Mother knows best. If men were the ones having babies—which men don't even seem to appreciate—then there wouldn't be a pro-life movement and there would be record abortions. Conversely, if women ran this country we wouldn't have the economic basket case we have today."

  ~ * * ~

  Sally Cummings picked up the remote control and turned off the TV. "Molly's right. Brenda, I've made up my mind."

  "What, Ms. Cummings?"

  "I've watched this subtle war on women for months. Their attacks are growing more frequent and bolder every day."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "I'm going to go see our state chairman tomorrow. I'm going to throw my hat in the ring and run for the U.S. Senate."

  Chapter One – Birth of a Movement

  Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."

  —Margaret Mead

  After a thirty-minute wait, the secretary said, "Mr. Nelsen will see you now." Sally slipped her tablet computer into her handbag and went into Brad Nelsen's office. He stood, a smile on his face. "Good to see you again, Ms. Cummings. Please be seated. Can I have Linda get you anything? Coffee, tea, water?"

  Sally sat in the center of three chairs that sat in an arc in front of his large desk. "No thanks, I'm fine."

  The state Democratic Chairman took his seat and leaned forward, forearms on desk. "All right. What can I do for you today?"

  "I wanted to let you know what I'd like to do."

  Brad cupped his chin. "And what is that?"

  "I'm not going to run for re-election."

  "No?"

  "No. Instead, I'm planning to run for the Senate. I can do much more for the people as a senator."

  Brad scratched his head and sighed. "Damn, Sally, I wish I knew this a month ago. You can't waltz in here, announce your intention to run for the U.S. Senate, and expect us to back you, just like that."

  Sally tilted her head. "Why not? You always did before. I thought you'd be pleased."

  Brad glanced up. "Normally, I would, but things are different now."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You've seen it, Republicans in control of many of the state legislations, running roughshod, introducing and passing one ridiculous, unpopular bill after another. Democracy itself is under assault. Moderate and progressive values are under attack, the country is in a crisis.

  "Yes, I know. It's happening in Congress, too. The House majority is passing only it's own far right agenda legislation and blocking everything else. Meanwhile the Senate Republicans use the filibuster to neutralize our majority and block everything that could help the country. It's absolutely imperative that we maintain control of the Senate."

  Brad leaned back in his chair. "Yeah things are bad, but it's even worse in many states."

  "Maybe, but Congress is rushing to catch up. Christ, that last bill the House passed wanted to take away women's right to birth control. Birth control, which has been available to women and in widespread use for half a century. Can you believe it? That's why I decided to run for the Senate."

  "Sally, I wish it were possible, but it's not. The party has already promised Winston we'd back him."

  She pursed her lips. "What's the difference? We'll both run and the one who wins the primary will run against Dan Mannogue in the general."

  "It's not that easy."

  "Why the hell not? I'm a woman—a known quantity—and Mannogue is…well, he's vulnerable—especially now."

  "I know, and we feel Winston has the best chance to unseat him. Sit tight in your House seat for now. After all, you're the Minority Whip and if we take the House back, you'll be Majority Leader, one step away from the Speaker of the House."

  Frustrated, she brushed a wayward lock of her blonde hair back from her eyes and stood. "We? You mean you think Winston has the best chance, too. Why, on earth, would you say that? I'm a better politician and you know it."

  Brad tapped his fingers on his desk. "That's beside the point."

  Sally leaned her hands on Brad's desk. "What then? Why the hell would the…the powers pick Winston over me?"

  He gazed up with watery eyes. "Sally, you're right about one thing. The Democratic Party can't afford to lose the Senate and a man has a fifty percent better chance of winning than a woman. Even a black man has a better chance than a woman—a white woman, that is."

  "Excuse my French, but this is really shitty. I thought you were my friend."

  The coward wouldn't meet her gaze. "I am."

  Sally slapped his desk, and he jerked. "No, you're not."

  "Yes, I am. Just calm down, Sally. Your turn will come."

  "Let me tell you, Brad. My best chance, in this right wing, misogynist climate, is now. I don't care what the party thinks, I'm running."

  Brad leaned forward and rose. "No, you're not."

  Sally narrowed her eyes. "Why, what're they going to do, revoke my party membership?"

  "Worse. If you run against the party's wishes, we'll see that you lose to Winston in the primary."

  She straightened and placed a fist on her hip. "Oh, yeah? How're you going to do that?"

  "The party will super-PAC you."

  "You would actually use a Political Action Committee to railroad me?"

  "Don't try us."

  "If that's the case, I'll run as an independent."

  "Go ahead, but if we think you have a chance to beat Winston, we'll super-PAC you, anyway."

  "We'll see about that."

  "Sally, you're a smart, strong, talented woman, but don't fight us on this. It isn't fair, but this is a man's world."

  "Thanks for the compliment, but…you're no better than the Republicans. When it comes to progress for women in government, you're a monkey's uncle."

  Preparing to leave Sally swung her handbag up to place the strap over her shoulder, accidently knocked Brad's coffee cup over. "Oops, so sorry." Hiding a smile, she hastily spun on her heels and strutted toward the door. "Have a nice day."

  Scrambling, he retrieved several napkins from his back desk and yelled, "Wait Sally, what…where're you going?"

  "You said one thing that's true."

  Blotting spilled coffee up and wiping the desk dry, Brad asked, "What?"

  "Whether someone is born rich or poor, black, white or brown, straight or gay, male or female, how they are born should not determine their position in society. You s
aid we live in a man's world. I'm going to see what I can do to change that."

  ~ * * ~

  Two weeks later, five women sat at a long table in the Mexican motif banquet room of Gringo's Cantina, awaiting one more member.

  Congresswoman Sally Cummings sipped her frozen margarita through a short straw while her assistant, Brenda, picked through the tortilla chips. "It's just not fair."

  Carla took a bite of a freshly delivered nacho, then simultaneously sucked air and fanned her mouth. "Ooh, hot!" She swallowed. "Yeah, men have been sticking it to women since they wore short coats with frilly shirts, pedal pushers with knee socks, and gray powdered wigs."

  Kelly rested her elbows on the table and lowered her chin to her entwined hands. "How would you know? You weren't exactly around two hundred and thirty years ago."

  "Don't need to be." Carla picked up another nacho chip. "The Declaration of Independence says, "All men are created equal. Notice how they conveniently leave off women? Women didn't get to vote for another hundred and forty-four years. Even now, twelve generations later, we're still not equal."

  Jennifer set her menu down. "Not all men are like that."

  "Yeah, I know. My husband, Howard, is one of the good guys." Carla stirred her margarita with a straw. "Thank God there are decent, well-meaning men. All I meant was that a lot of men seem to have a higher opinion of men than women."

  "My husband doesn't have a woman problem, either. I think it's mostly republican men. They're the ones who are trying to drag women back into the dark ages."

  Jennifer raised an eyebrow. "How would you know, Kelly? You told me there are times when you barely see him."

  "So, he's a busy man, he lets me do and buy whatever I want and he doesn't smother me, like yours does."

  Placing her elbows on the table, Sally leaned forward. "Ladies, please. We're not teenagers. We're grown women." Glancing around, Sally mumbled, "Now, where is Lindy?"

  Brenda nudged her boss and whispered. "I forgot. She texted me. She'll be a few minutes late."

  Jennifer picked up a nacho and blew on it. "Sally's right." Nibbling on a corner, she asked, "Sally, how long have you been a democrat?"

  She shrugged. "As long as I can remember. I registered twenty years ago in my first year of college."

  Jennifer sipped her margarita. "So, the party you belonged to for twenty years threw you under the bus. They said you couldn't run for the Senate as a Democrat and if you ran as an independent they would actively work for your defeat."

  Sally nodded. "Pretty much. The state chairman said they'd even super-PAC me if they had to. He wanted me to stick with the House for now, which I'd do if we could get anything done there. The Tea Party effectively runs the House and they block everything but silly Tea Party bills. The Senate is the last bastion of sanity, but 'the barbarians are at the gates'."

  "Super-PAC." Carla picked through the chips. "I've heard that term on TV and stuff, but I'm not sure what a super-PAC is."

  Kelly edged forward. "It's kind of involved so I'll just give you the simple version. PACs are political action committees, collecting donations to support various candidates or causes. PACs are regulated, disclosing who gives the money and how much is given. Recently the Supreme Court saw fit to reverse a hundred year old law and now wealthy people and corporations can contribute unlimited funds anonymously for an election. In other words, buy an election."

  Sally nodded and smiled. "Very well said, Kelly. The decision, Citizens United, is unwelcome. Most ordinary people are against unlimited funding of candidates since ninety-four percent of elections are won by candidates with the biggest war chest."

  Kelly sighed. "So what're you going to do, Sally?"

  "She could always run as an independent." Carla said.

  Sally stood. "Ah, here she is. Have a seat, Lindy. We started grazing on appetizers, but I haven't discussed our plan yet."

  Lindy smiled at the gathering and handed a sheet of paper to Sally before taking the seat beside her. "Sorry, I'm late. I was waiting for the first polling data."

  "Thank you." Sally glanced at the paper, and raised her eyebrows. "Ladies some of you never met my friend and my last campaign manager, Lindy Rollins."

  Sally introduced them individually. "Lindy, to your right is Carla Mehlman, a talented freelance journalist. And the red-headed lady to her right is Kelly Cahill."

  Giving Kelly an apprising look, Lindy smiled and nodded.

  "And the blonde lady across from Kelly," Sally continued, "is Jennifer Schmidt, the best damn lawyer in Mayland."

  Sally rested a hand on Brenda's shoulder. "And of course you already know Brenda Morris, my community relations expert, girl Friday, and the reason I'm popular with minorities in our great state."

  Carla looked to Sally. "So, does this mean you're running for the U.S. Senate as an independent?"

  Sally smiled, "No, I'm shooting for something bigger."

  Gaping, everyone, but Lindy leaned forward.

  "President?" they asked in unison.

  Sally laughed. "God no, not that big. As you probably know, the party we were discussing has reached new lows with regards to women—women's health, women's reproductive rights and women's rights in general."

  All except Lindy nodded.

  "For the last year, I stood by open-mouthed, as men in the House, who hadn't a clue, passed law after archaic law about women, as if some omnipotent wizard behind a curtain directed their actions. We know there's a Big Brother out there somewhere. It's as plain as the noses on our faces.

  "This Big Brother is not only directing, but writing bills for republican state legislators across the spectrum, local, state and federal. Different versions of almost the same bills are being presented and passed in various Republican controlled state legislators."

  Sally took a drink of water

  Kelly said, "I know. I'm boiling mad, but what can we do? It's a man's world."

  Sally snickered. "That's exactly what the party chairman had the nerve to say to me. Well, that's about to change. Kelly, you said you're mad. Polls show that millions of women across the country are mad, too.

  "Let's face it. The fact that some shadowy group has declared war on us, and that a certain party is going along lock stock and barrel, means there are men and even some women who don't like us. And we, as a gender, are never going to reach our full potential unless we take matters into our own hands."

  Jennifer raised her hand. "What're you getting at, Sally?"

  Before Sally could answer, Lindy touched Sally's wrist. "I'd like to respond to that, if I may."

  Sally sat. "Please do."

  Lindy smiled. "Thank you." She glanced at Jennifer. "Jennifer, right?"

  "Yes."

  "Jennifer, women outnumber men in America by ten million. In two thousand and eight, women cast nine million more votes than men did. Women have political muscle. With numerical superiority, theoretically, women have the power to take over the country, literally.

  Men know this, but in their smug superiority, don't worry about women. They have the balls and we don't. Well, they misjudged us. Women don't need balls. Our strength comes from within, not from our sex organs. Up until now, this generation has never had a reason to assert ourselves, but things are changing. With the advent of the Tea Party, right wing legislators are getting more and more radical. Which brings me to the point of this meeting."

  Lindy paused and glanced at each of the other women. "Ladies, Sally and I are proposing that we form a political party for women. Men can join. We know not all men are pigs. There are many empathetic, caring men, who can sign up as SAFE members. Ladies, women have the numbers and with that, we have the power to, as some politicians are so fond of saying, 'Take back our country'."

  Carla snickered and mumbled, "Except we never had it."

  Lindy laughed. "Picky, picky." Which caused everyone to laugh.

  "Now, if I may continue." Lindy held up the paper she'd shown to Sally. "We just got preliminary polling
back from Molly Markum at the Women's League that tells us that sixteen percent of the women polled would be somewhat or very interested in joining a political party whose candidates are exclusively women or proponents of women's issues."

  "Sixteen percent isn't very much," said Jennifer.

  "You're right, but the poll was based on a hypothetical. Think about it, if the poll is accurate, roughly twenty million women are mad enough to join a party that doesn't yet exist. I was told, if we received five percent we had a window. Give women an actual women's party and that might easily double and that's without going out and actually recruiting women."

  Kelly raised her hand.

  "Yes, Kelly?"

  "You mentioned the Women's League. Are they aware of your plan, and if so, what is their opinion?"

  Sally answered, "I can't speak for the entire membership of the Women's League. To say their president, Molly Markum, is in favor of a women's party is like saying a golfer is pleased when she gets a hole-in-one."

  Lindy grinned. "Molly and the leadership of other women's groups we've spoken to are all ecstatic and behind us one hundred percent."

  Sally nodded. "Yes, and they've committed to giving us any support they can."

  A buzz of activity and a flurry of questions followed Lindy's revelation.

  "What will the Democrats and Republicans do?"

  "I'm in, but won't we need more women?"

  "Isn't this an overreach for six women?"

  "How do we get the word out?"

  "What about abortion?"

  "And contraception? That was settled eons ago."

  "How about equal pay?"

  "How about the economy?"

  "Yeah, and won't we need money? Lots of money?"

  "What's this new party called?"

  Sally waved her hands for a time out. "Ladies, please. Lindy or I will answer all of your questions. Unless you have a better idea, we are naming our party Stand Aligned For Equality. Or SAFE, for short."

  "Ooh, I like that. I feel SAFE and more equal already." Brenda clapped her hands, excitedly.