by Paul Cwalina
“Yes, Mayor,” he responded with a clear sense of fear coming through.
Jim picked up the phone. “Chief McDermott.”
“Jim, I just received a death threat from that Ryan that’s dating Sarah. I want him arrested. Now.”
“OK, sir. Can you tell me what happened?” Jim asked conscientiously.
“No, I’m not going to tell you. He threatened a public official. That’s all you need to know. Arrest him. Now.”
“I’m on it.”
“Wait. I’m not done. Sarah drives a red Ford Fusion. I want her followed. If she rolls through a stop sign, ticket her. If she goes one mile over the speed limit, ticket her. If the car is even close to being parked illegally, tow it. You hear me?” I demanded. “Now, what do we know about this Ryan punk?”
“Not much. One of my officers went to high school with him, but doesn’t know him well.”
“Alright. Dig up whatever you can on him. He drives a Honda. It’s black. I’m pretty sure it’s an Accord. Impound it.”
“Got it, sir. How do you know what he drives?”
“I just do.,” I said, irritated by his questions. “I want to see him in handcuffs within the hour. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jim dutifully carried out my orders. I made sure Ryan saw my face when he was brought to police headquarters and then enjoyed watching the story on the evening news.
Chapter Fourteen
A few days passed when I got a phone call from Greg, who asked for the day off. He didn’t sound right. Something was wrong.
“Hey, can you meet me in your office tonight at seven o’clock?”
“Seven? On a Wednesday night? Why?” I asked.
“Just a couple things we really need to go over.”
“Just come over now. Why wait?”
“Can’t right now. I’ll see you tonight.”
“What’s going on?” I asked with growing irritation.
He hung up. He’s never hung up on me. Something was going on and I needed to find out what it was.
“Diane!” I yelled toward the door.
She poked her head into the office door. “What?”
“Greg just called and asked to meet me here tonight at seven o’clock. You have any idea why he would ask to do that? That’s not like him.”
“No idea,” she said unconvincingly. She knew. I could tell she knew and didn’t want to tell me.
“What the hell is going on?”
“I have no idea. Ask Greg,” she said curtly.
I dialed his cell phone. It rang once and went to voice mail. He’s ignoring my calls. He’s never ignored my call.
I got up from my desk and walked toward the door. As I exited, I said, “Di --- “ and stopped as I found Diane had disappeared. What the hell is going on?
I spent the next few hours trying to figure out what was going on. I called Jim, but he was convincingly clueless as to what Greg was up to. I was expecting a call from Yvonne, but it never came. When I tried to call her, it went to voice mail. Seven o’clock couldn’t come fast enough. I went home to grab something to eat and freshen up before returning to city hall.
I got back to city hall a few minutes before seven o’clock. I walked into my office and was surprised to find Edmond, Jim, Greg, Yvonne and Diane sitting around my desk. They all looked somber and more like a jury than a gathering of friends.
“Well, to what do I know this honor?” I asked.
There were no ‘hello’s’ and Yvonne was in no mood for light conversation. “Have a seat.”
She continued, “Mayor, we have a problem.”
“With what?”
“You....seems you’ve been a little busy.” She reached into her leather satchel and pulled out a large envelope. She opened it and pulled out two eight-by-ten photos and threw them on my desk. “Does that woman’s throat look familiar?”
The photo was a close-up of a woman holding her hair back to expose her neck. I recognized Sarah’s earring. “I’m guessing that it’s Sarah.”
“You guess correctly. Now, see that bruise just below her ear? I bet that bruise is about the same size as your thumb. What do you think?”
I didn’t say a word and kept staring at the photo. I had no idea I bruised Sarah.
“The other photo is the left side of her throat. Those two bruises there near her ear...probably a pretty good match size-wise for your index and middle fingers. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I bruised Sarah’s throat. That can’t be. I couldn’t have grabbed her that tightly. This can’t be true.
I lifted my hand and rested my forehead on it, shielding my eyes from Yvonne. “How did you get these photos?,” I asked in a barely audible voice.
Without lifting his head, Jim said, “Sarah brought them to us, sir. She wants to press charges. I wasn’t sure what to do. I called Greg to let him know.”
“I called Yvonne,” Greg offered.
I paused for a minute to soak in and digest what was happening. “So? What can we do?” I asked, lifting my head and looking at Yvonne.
Yvonne replied, “I’ve had plenty of practice helping politicians make an indiscretion or mistake disappear...”
“Okay, so how do we make this disappear,” I anxiously interrupted.
“Oh, if it was just that simple...if it was just this one incident. Unfortunately, there seems to be much more. We have a witness that puts you in the parking lot of Sarah’s apartment building when her boyfriend’s car was vandalized. We also have a man in prison on an awfully thin charge of threatening a public official. Then there’s two parking tickets and three tickets for traffic violations for one driver - Sarah - just in the past three days. Seems a little excessive, don’t you think?”
I didn’t respond.
“And there’s this prison guard you hired to beat to death a prisoner... He seems to be having a crisis of conscience.”
I glanced Jim’s way. He still had his head down, avoiding eye contact. “I didn’t hire anybody and never told anyone to kill anybody. The guard got carried away and that scumbag drunk driver hit his head on the barbell. It was an accident. Everyone knows that. The investigation cleared the guard.”
“So you say, but I sure would love to hear that guard’s side of it. So would a jury,” she said.
“And who claims to have seen me in that parking lot?” I asked, indignantly.
“Chelsea,” Diane said.
“Chelsea?!?” I asked, surprised.
“The night you left your phone at her place she followed you to try to give it back to you.”
She knew this whole time and never said a word about me acting that way? Never questioned me as to why I was at Sarah’s apartment building?
I sighed and shook my head. “Unbelievable. Okay, so what now? What are you trying to tell me here?”
“We’ve spoken with everyone involved and we all talked here amongst ourselves, along with some others,” Yvonne said, clearly in command of the meeting. “Here’s what’s going to happen: You are going to drop the charges against Sarah’s boyfriend. Further, he is going to be compensated for the damage to his car, and the harassment is going to stop immediately. The party will pay for his car. Jim will cancel all the tickets issued to Sarah as if they never happened. We’ve arranged for a therapist to work with the prison guard, per his wishes. You will pay for that. And I personally spoke with Sarah. Her permit will be approved and she will not press charges.”
“So, it’s over,” I said, relieved.
“Not quite. We’ve also arranged for a press conference to be held here tomorrow morning at nine am. During that press conference, you will resign as mayor of the city.”
It seemed like she was wasn’t finished speaking, but I interrupted, “Resign?!? Are you out of your mind?” I said, raising my voice.
“Calm down right now,” Yvonne sternly demanded I was in no position to challenge her. She continued, “Your resignation makes all of it go away. That’s the price of
their silence and ours. If you try to stay in office, all of this comes out and you will be forced from office, anyway. At the very least, you’ll be humiliated and will certainly lose the next election. You cannot survive this. You are being done a favor by everyone involved...one which I am not sure you deserve, quite frankly.”
What is happening to me? I wake up one day as a popular mayor and future candidate for the United States Senate and the next day my entire career is over? No, no, no...this doesn’t make sense.
I was desperate. I started flailing verbally at anything I could find to save my career. “This city is thriving under my administration. Other cities are trying to copy us.” I said. Before she or anyone else could respond, I remembered the upcoming Senate race. “What about the Senate race? There’s no way I can resign and run for the Senate next year.”
Yvonne’s face, already serious, turned suddenly cold and stern as she looked directly into my eyes and said slowly and deliberately, “If you think I would ever support the candidacy of someone who put his hand to the throat of a woman, you are sorely mistaken.”
My blood ran cold. It was over. There was nothing more I could say. Without Yvonne behind me, I was dead in the water. Still, I pleaded, “This is all I’ve known since college. What am I going to do?”
Yvonne turned to Edmond. “Edmond?”
“Mister Mayor. Oh, mister mayor my heart is broken. I am so heartbroken. I still tink you will do great tings. I still know dis in my heart. But you need some help right now. Your spirit is sick, my friend. Your soul is sick. I have a hotel..a resort in St.Croix. I need a new manager d’ere to run it for me. I would be honored if you would do dat for me. It would be good for both of us, yes? Will you do dat for me?”
I thought about all of the help and support Edmond had given me. Even after I disappointed him, wasted all of his money and support, he was still there for me offering me a job.
My pride, though, still prevented me from giving in. “Well, you people certainly have done your homework, haven’t you? You’ve got my life all figured out for me. You even want me out of the freakin’ country.”
“That was just a convenient turn of events. We simply want you out of this office,” Yvonne said.
I felt my desperation and anger building. I stood up, quickly, desperately trying to think of something I could say or do. I looked at my chair and grabbed it by the armrests. I have no idea where the strength came from, but I lifted the chair over my head and hurled it with all my might seven or eight feet across the room. The back of the chair caught my desk lamp and in/out baskets and sent them flying off the desk and onto the floor. I heard something crack on the chair when it hit the floor. Everyone stood up, probably out of fear.
I turned my back on them and stared out the large window overlooking the city. I rested my palms on the large windowsill, leaned on them and watched the final moments of the sunset and the daylight fading from the city. One by one the lights of the homes began to come on while the darkness gathered. I hung my head. For some reason the famous photo of Kennedy in the white house in the same position came to mind. Everyone looks at the photo and assumes he is dealing with some sort of stress, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Kennedy and the photographer later said he was simply trying to relieve his back pain. I’d given anything to have had a simple sore back at that moment.
Keeping my back to the others and my eyes on the darkening city. I waved my arm and index finger toward the door and said, “Everybody get out of here.”
I could hear some of them moving, but I could sense that Yvonne held her ground. She said, “I cannot leave without your assurances that you will be here tomorrow morning prepared to conduct the press conference.”
I exhaled and hesitated before hanging my head again and saying, “Fine.”
“We will have a statement prepared for you to read. Try to get some rest.”
I didn’t respond. I heard all of the footsteps and shuffling of them leaving the office.
I didn’t sleep a single second that night. When the sun rose, I started my usual routine to get ready for the day, but this time I felt like I was getting ready for my own funeral. With each mundane task, I stopped and said to myself, ‘Maybe I could...’ but nothing ever came after that.
I left the house early and drove to every corner of the city. I tried to drive on every street...just another way of desperately clinging to what was slipping through my hands, I suppose.
It was getting close to nine o’clock and my phone started ringing. It was Diane. I didn’t even say ‘hello’ when I answered. I simply said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be there” and didn’t wait for a response. I just hung up the phone.
I arrived five minutes before the press conference was to begin. At precisely 9:00 am I took to the podium. In the time it took to read two short paragraphs of lies and tell six more in response to reporters’ questions, my career was over. It was all over.
I spent no time reminiscing. I had no interest in wandering the halls or saying goodbye. I walked past everyone, down the stairs and out the door to my car. I didn’t notice a single face in the crowd of people I walked past, including Chelsea’s.
I started driving with no destination in mind. It was a weekday. I was supposed to be in my office. I had no idea what to do. My phone rang. It was Chelsea.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” she said with a tone that meant to comfort. “How are you doing?”
“How do you think I’m doing?” I shot back.
“I know. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. Do you want to get some coffee?”
“Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“Today? With this going on? No, I took the day off.”
I sighed. “Fine. Where are you?”
“Look in your rear view mirror.”
There she was at the wheel of the car behind me, waving with big smile.
“Follow me to Angelo’s,” I said.
I parked the car on the street two doors down from Angelo’s. I didn’t wait out side for Chelsea. I just went in and waited for her. On our way to a table in the corner next to the window, I demanded two black coffees from a passing waitress.
We both sat down. The waitress had our coffees on the table before we fully adjusted into our seats. I stared down at my coffee and was barely aware of Chelsea’s presence.
She put her hand on mine. “You were very good for this city.”
That should have helped. That should have comforted me. But it stung. I only heard the word ‘were’.
“Yeah, well...that’s over now.”
“The people who supported you and voted for you still love you.”
“Nobody in politics loves anybody but themselves. They supported me because they wanted something from me. There’s nothing I can do for them, now. Their so-called love ended when I resigned.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“How would you know? You don’t even vote.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. I guess I should start doing that.”