by Joan Dempsey
“Matka?” said Lolek. “You testifying?”
She shook her head. Before Izaac could say anything, she held up a hand between them.
“Already there are enough voices, Izaac. No one needs to also hear ridiculous old woman.”
“And there you have it, kochanie, the trouble with democracy.”
Lolek stood up to confer with Aggie, and she went up front to sign them in. Lolek leaned back in over the bench.
“I’ll be in and out. There are two other hearings I need to attend to. And listen. This hearing is important, but if things don’t go our way, it’s not the end of the world, truly. It’s only the beginning. We still have second and third readings in the House, and then the bill has to make it through three hearings in the Senate as well. There’s plenty of time to kill this bill. I personally appointed Senator Sullivan who chairs the Senate Committee on Bills in the Third Reading, so I’m confident if the bill gets that far we can put a stop to it then. The important thing is that today we’ve already made a great splash in the news, and that’s to our advantage.”
Izaac spoke up.
“Lolek’s right. This is only the beginning. We still have a discrimination case we can win, so don’t forget that avenue’s open to us.”
Lolek glanced behind him at the media pool.
“The full contingent is here—that’s a great sign. Tommy, you and Robert were terrific with Wendy Chen. Don’t hesitate to talk to any reporter who approaches you, okay?” He checked his watch. “I’ll be back.”
Lolek slowly straightened, his hip tight, and strode as best he could from the room. Aggie came back and handed each of them the text of H. 1298. She crouched at the end of the bench, and they all leaned toward her to listen while she told them what to expect from the hearing, and what protocol demanded from their testimony. As she was reminding them to spell out for the committee that they should vote ought not to pass, Tommy made a small noise of surprise.
“Oh my god!” he said. He grabbed for Ludka’s and Robert’s hands.
“It’s him. It’s one of the guys who attacked me.”
Ludka followed Tommy’s gaze to the front of the room where a clean-cut young man was handing papers to Carey Best, who stood sentinel at Representative Gauch’s shoulder.
“Who?” said Aggie.
“That guy holding the black parka, right in the middle there.”
“Are you sure?” asked Robert.
“Positive. It’s him.”
The man said something, and Carey threw back his head and laughed.
“Okay, listen,” said Aggie. “You have got to be two hundred percent sure. He seems pretty chummy with Gauch’s top aide, and he’s no slouch.”
As she was talking, she was working her thumbs over her cell phone, sending a text to Lolek. The last of the committee members were settling into their seats.
“They blasted that flashlight in your eyes, though, Tom,” said Robert. “How can you be sure?”
“They might have thought they blinded me, but I’m telling you—I’m four hundred percent sure. I recognized him right away. He’s the guy who called me a Sodomite.”
“Wait!” said Ludka. “I know this one. He is Danny, son of that Kulek who accosted you in church.”
Lolek showed up with a State Police officer, and everyone crowded out into the aisle. By the time Ludka got into the circle, Lolek was saying, “It’s pretty simple. We have him arrested. As long as you’re sure, Tommy.”
Tommy nodded.
“That’s your cue, Gordy,” Lolek said to the trooper. “Go get him. His name’s Danny Kulek.”
“You want me to go quietly, Senator? I can cuff him outside the hearing room, away from the cameras.”
Lolek started to answer, and was glad when he caught himself. He turned to Tommy.
“Your call, son. Whatever you think is best.”
Tommy considered.
“I think it’s probably better if everyone sees what we’re up against. What do you think, Dad?”
Lolek nodded. Gordy made his way to the front of the room. Committee members seemed to think he was just going to pass behind them, through to the private exits. They greeted him by name. He stopped next to Danny. Gauch looked up in surprise.
“Danny Kulek?” said Gordy.
“The one and only,” said Carey, reaching over the dais to clap Danny on the shoulder.
Danny smiled, and nodded. “Danny Kulek, you’re under arrest for the aggravated assault and battery of Thomas Zeilonka on February 16, 2009. You have the right to remain silent.”
As one, the media came to life and surged forward. TV cameras rose and perched on shoulders. Lights flashed on. Still cameras whirred and clicked. Fuzzy booms extended. The hearing room erupted with noisy speculation. Gauch was on his feet, telling the trooper there must be some mistake.
“He’d never be involved in something like this. I know his father.”
Danny’s face darkened. He scanned the crowd. Finding Tommy, he narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Tommy didn’t shy away. Gauch saw the exchange and went pale.
“You have the right to an attorney,” said the officer. “If you cannot afford …”
“I can afford a damned attorney,” Danny snapped. “… one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as I’ve told them to you?”
Handcuffed now, Danny nodded.
“You need to answer me verbally, Mr. Kulek.”
Danny squared his shoulders and lifted his chin.
“I hear you loud and clear, officer. I understand.”
The policeman escorted him from the room through the private legislators’ entrance and closed the door on the cameras. Reporters rushed out the back doors. Gauch, grim-faced, slammed down a gavel and called for a brief recess.
On the other side of the hearing room, Meck sat with Jill, who had Andrew in her lap. On Meck’s right sat Whit and Pastor Royce. Ben and John had asked to stand against the wall so they could see better, and they both looked serious in their blue suits. Meck and Whit and Pastor Royce had decided to discourage people from again wearing red; the State House was no place for such a show. Meck was dying to take off his own suit jacket. The room was suffused with too much body heat. On the way in Meck had sought out Eric Barton and asked him directly if he’d dealt with Pastor Royce. Eric, looking stricken, had said nothing. Meck had turned away without another word. He hadn’t yet confronted the pastor. He’d decided it might be best to get through the hearing and talk with Whit about it back at home before making a plan. His heart was hammering, though, and his body trembled with tension. And then he had watched with astonishment as the police arrested Danny.
Meck could no longer stand the heat. He stripped off his suit coat. Without thinking, he handed it over to Jill, who received it without complaint. He leaned past Whit and spoke quietly but angrily to Pastor Royce.
“How many other sycophants did you get to do your dirty work?”
“Whoa,” said Whit. He held out an arm as if Meck was his passenger in a skidding car. “What’s going on, Warren?”
Pastor Royce sighed heavily, not looking at either of them. On the other side of the room the media returned, and settled down when a shaken Representative Gauch reentered and prepared to begin the proceedings.
“What’s going on, Whit, is that he’s the one who’s been orchestrating all this violence. Tell us otherwise, Pastor?”
Pastor Royce dragged his hands down over his face a few times, rubbing at his eyes. He sighed again and then turned to face them.
“But we’re winning, Warren, aren’t we?”
Meck slumped back in his seat, not realizing until that moment that he’d still been hoping he was wrong.
“Wait, wait, wait,” said Whit. “What are you talking about? Pastor Royce, tell me this isn’t true.”
“Don’t you see, fellas, we have to win, whatever it takes. If we win Massachusetts …”
Whit turned to Meck with a horrified expression; thank
God Whit hadn’t known either.
“It’s a slam dunk for the nation,”
Whit whispered. “Oh my God.”
“Warren, Whit, take it easy now. Let’s just get through this hearing, shall we, and we’ll talk it all through? The way we always do? There’s more than one way to win a campaign.”
“Are we winning, Pastor Royce?” Meck leaned toward him again. “Did you ever believe that ‘all who take up the sword will perish by the sword’? Did you forget Jesus’s commandment to love one another? Do you think you’re somehow exempt?”
Meck had no idea what would happen from here on out. If Pastor Royce were to atone for his sins, could Meck forgive him and continue in their work? Could he do this work at all if it turned out the violence was condoned, or even overlooked, at the national level? He might blow the whistle on Pastor Royce and find himself cast out instead of celebrated, the victim of a national cover-up. His whole life he had worked to be exactly where he was right now. What else could he possibly do? As an answer to that question presented itself, a wave of vertigo washed over him, and he thought he might pass out. He could simply go along. Pretend he knew nothing. Finish up the campaign. Maybe even win it. He pressed a hand over his eyes and then tugged at his tie. He felt a hand on his back and turned to see Andrew staring at him with concern. Meck couldn’t even muster up a reassuring smile.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Gauch, “thank you for attending this hearing of the Joint Committee on Education.”
Meck and Whit locked eyes. Whit kept shaking his head. Pastor Royce sat with his eyes closed, his hands lying limp in his lap.
“Sorry for the chaotic start,” said Gauch. His face bore a sheen of perspiration. “My senate co-chair sends her regrets today. She’s needed elsewhere in the building. We have a full house today and a lot of people who wish to testify, so I’m going to ask you to keep your comments to a minimum—three minutes max. We have your written testimony, so don’t feel like you must repeat what’s writ-ten—we know how to read. I’ll call people up in groups of three in the order in which you signed up. We will not be taking any official breaks, so you’ll need to take care of yourselves as you see fit. There are restrooms and vending machines just down the hall.
“As is our custom, we’ll hear first from those who support H. 1298.”
He consulted the signup sheet.
“First up we have Warren Meck, Whit Hammond, and Pastor Royce Leonard.”
Meck wished he was far away from here, maybe at the station, about to go on the air. Pastor Royce made to stand and Meck hissed at him.
“You’re not saying a thing. Stay right where you are.”
Pastor Royce lifted his hands in surrender as Meck and Whit got up. As they approached the table, Meck said, “Mr. Chairman, Royce Leonard will not be testifying today after all.”
A murmur arose around the room. Meck hated how petty he sounded, and how bitter he felt, refusing to say Pastor. He could feel Whit watching him.
Gauch consulted his sheet.
“Arnold Dengler, then?”
Meck groaned inwardly. Dengler, holding a stack of nine-by-twelve glossies, joined them. Too late, Meck realized with embarrassment that Jill was still holding his suit jacket. Decorum was important in this building. A trickle of sweat ran from his left armpit down his side. He smoothed his bangs.
“Mr. Chairman, members of the committee, my name is Warren Meck and I live in Hampshire.”
A hush fell over the room, and every member of the committee looked up, surprised by the depth and power of the large voice coming from such a small man. Meck’s hands trembled and he clasped them together in front of him on the table. He’d never been as grateful as he was in that moment for all the ways live radio had prepared him to think on his feet.
“I’m grateful for the opportunity to speak first this morning because I’d like to set a collegial tone. I think it’s safe to say that everyone in this room can agree on one thing—we all believe our children should be taught by teachers who possess sound moral characters. Most of you on the committee know that Whit Hammond here and I were two of the chief architects of this bill, and that Chairman Gauch was kind enough to file it on our behalf. I want to be clear with everyone here about our intentions. We believe this bill will help to identify potential problems before they begin, during a teacher’s certification phase. If the board has clearly defined what constitutes a sound moral character, the certification process can be tailored to weed out the unsavory elements before they ever get near a classroom.”
Even as he was saying this, he began to question his own logic. Wouldn’t he have unhesitatingly held up Pastor Royce as a role model for sound moral character? And over the past five and a half weeks, since Whit had broken the news about the dismissals, hadn’t Pastor Royce repeatedly and blatantly lied to them? The room seemed to slow down around him, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to be home with Jill and the boys, the campaign a distant memory. He shuddered as he thought of what the pastor had done, not only to Meck and Whit and the campaign, but to himself as well. Psalms 101:7 said, He that worketh deceit shall not dwell within my house: he that telleth lies shall not tarry in my sight. He swallowed hard, knowing he had to press on. With or without Pastor Royce, Meck was still in charge of this campaign. He meant to see it through. Chairman Gauch was watching him expectantly. Meck squared his shoulders.
“The law as it stands now,” he said, “demands but nowhere defines the terminology sound moral character, and we believe this vagueness is partially responsible for the lax behavior we’ve seen on the part of teachers throughout our public schools. Let’s face it, the current process to determine a prospective teacher’s character is to get their self-selected references. I think we all know that anyone can find at least two people to say something good about them. In recent years we’ve seen an increase in prosecutions for pedophilia, for instance, and we know enough about pedophiles by now to know that many of them are gregarious and engaging people who can even make good teachers. Except, of course, for the despicable things they do behind closed doors. These people can get good character references because they’re skilled at keeping their true identities secret. We’d like to weed them out before they ever get near a student. A surprising number of our teachers have also been found to have problems with drugs, alcohol, and gambling. My written testimony contains specific statistics that I trust you can read for yourselves. Recently, as I’m sure you know, teachers in our commonwealth have been discriminating against Christian children, and within the last two months principals and superintendents have seen fit to fire eleven teachers for this religious discrimination. I don’t need to tell you that this discrimination is unconstitutional. What House Bill 1298 will do is fill a gap that’s been in the law for far too long. By allowing the good people on the board of education to define sound moral character, and put into place a certification process that will weed out every bad seed, our children will be safer and happier in our public schools. I leave you with the words of one of our founding fathers, James Madison, who reminds us that ‘We have staked the whole of our political institutions on the capacity of mankind to govern themselves according to the Ten Commandments of God.’ This founder’s vision of sound moral character has been lost, and 1298 is one small attempt to find it again, in the important realm of our children’s education. I strongly urge you to vote in favor of House Bill 1298.”
Meck sat back in his chair, amazed at how composed he had sounded. As Whit began to testify, Meck thought again about the two of them going alone together to Washington. Pastor Royce’s time was clearly coming to an end. Perhaps a schism had begun in this very room mere moments ago, when Meck had chosen to strip the pastor of his title; didn’t new leaders always emerge from a divide? Connie Clough had said it himself when he addressed Meck’s boys, suggesting that one day a whole team of Meck men might set America’s political agenda. Maybe, Meck thought, glancing around to find Andrew, John, and Ben, and feeling himse
lf gearing up, that day began right now.
Arnie Dengler stood up when Whit was finished with his testimony. Gauch told him he didn’t have to stand, and Dengler said he preferred to. Gauch gave him an impatient look, which Dengler seemed not to notice.
“What I want to point out,” said Dengler, “is that the flip side of sound moral character is unsound moral character.”
He held up the stack of photographs as if raising the paten during the Eucharist.
“I’m not a man to mince words, so I’m just going to tell it like it is.”
Meck winced at Dengler’s imitation of Meck’s radio voice. Dengler chuckled, but Meck refused to acknowledge him. Dengler cleared his throat.
“Simply put, I do not want these people teaching our children.”
He held up one photograph in each hand and moved them slowly around for the committee, and then the public, to see. He held them longest as he faced the media. Then he passed the photos to the committee member closest to him.
“Take a good long look,” he said, “and tell me you’re okay with these people teaching your kids.”
He held out more and more photographs. Nearly naked men with oiled torsos wore wild feathered head pieces. A team of hefty shirtless men harnessed like carriage horses, bits tight in their mouths, pulled a two-wheeled cart carrying a muscular young man wielding a whip. Huge men with blond wigs and falsies teetered on high-heeled boots, their tight skirts high above their thighs. Bare-breasted fat women sported shaved heads, tattoos, and facial hair.
Across the room, Ludka grimaced, then pressed her fingers over her mouth, but forced herself not to look away, thinking about Nazi propaganda. Next to her, Tommy’s leg shot up and down like a piston. Izaac watched calmly, as if he’d seen it all before. In her peripheral vision, Ludka caught sight of a tuxedo. Numerous members of the chorus were moving to various places around the room. Excited, she nudged Izaac. They exchanged a bright-eyed look of anticipation.
“You see the filth I’m talking about?” said Dengler. “How many of these homosexuals are teaching your children?”