The iCongressman, page 19
part #2 of The Michael Bennit Series Series
CHELSEA
I’m never going to get any work done today. One of the downsides of working in a fully functioning coffee shop is you don’t get a moment of peace. I’m sure that’s why the congressman originally wanted to find a space of our own to run the campaign out of.
We had no money when we ran the first race, so the offer to use the Perkfect Buzz as our headquarters was quickly accepted. Laura, the timeless owner of this Millfield institution, was offended when she heard we were thinking about alternatives for this campaign. Of course, the real reason for my pushing to be here is not so straightforward.
I realized my dad was right when I brought it up to him that we were shopping for space at the beginning of the summer. Mister Bennit is not an ordinary politician, and the more he acted like one, the less popular he was becoming. He was losing his identity, and I can put up with the small interruptions if working out of Laura’s haunt helps him realize his true nature.
Well, that’s half of the story. Even while away at college, everyone is still involved, but everything is done over Skype now. The fact is I miss working in these cozy confines with Kylie, Brian, Peyton, and the rest of the staff like we did in the last campaign. Kylie is also working down in D.C., so it leaves just me, the congressman, Vince, and Vanessa running the show here in addition to the legion of volunteers eager to be a part of Vince’s “revolución.”
With five minutes to go before a staff meeting with the volunteers, I go to the counter for some caffeine. Laura refuses to let any of us pay, and I wonder if the tab we’ve racked up in free coffee could be construed as an illegal campaign contribution. That makes me smile.
“Chelsea? Hi, I’m Rick Schemm from the New York Times. I’m doing background on the Bennit campaign. Do you have a moment for some questions?”
The New York Times. Kylie’s old employer. Two years ago, I would have freaked out doing an interview. Despite getting ambushed on my front lawn during our first campaign and facing a horde of journalists during the post-election press conference Mister Bennit set up, I never got comfortable with the idea. Even during my first few months as chief of staff, I let Vince handle those requests. Given everything that has happened since, I’m amazed how much has changed.
“Sure, but I have a meeting in a few minutes so it has to be quick.”
“It’s two days after the debate,” Rick says, turning on a Dictaphone, “and recent polls have you winning in a landslide with over sixty percent of registered voters casting their votes for Michael Bennit. Any comment on the success you’re having running a social media campaign again?”
“Sixty percent is a good number, but it still means there are forty percent out there whose vote we need to earn. You guys may be calling it a landslide, but we look at it as having more work to do.” And that’s the truth.
“How much time is Congressman Bennit devoting to working with the other icandidates around the country?”
“We have mostly volunteers helping with that effort, when they are needed. The congressman represents the Connecticut Sixth District, and reaching out to the people here has been his focus.” Also true, but I wonder how many people actually would believe that.
“Last question. You were a key player in all the drama surrounding this campaign last year. Do you miss it?” Some of it more than you might think, but I can’t say that.
“There is plenty of drama watching all these independents run for seats in the House. It’s nice that Americans are focusing on a call for change in Washington instead of allegation as to whether I slept with my teacher.”
“Thanks, Chelsea.”
“No problem, Rick. Enjoy your coffee,” I say with a smile. Yup, we have definitely come a long way the last couple of years.
* * *
The staff meeting with the volunteers in the district went fine, but I miss having everyone here. As much hard work and long hours the first two campaigns demanded, it was bearable because we all became good friends and had a good time with it. Now it feels more like work. The only way we make up for the lack of physical presence is through a daily videoconference Brian set up. It’s a poor substitute, but at least we can still meet, coordinate our activities, and share a few laughs.
“Someone on Richter’s staff got diarrhea of the mouth on Twitter yesterday, so I have been helping with damage control,” Amanda explains.
Amanda and Peyton are the firefighters for the icandidate effort. When a crisis pops up, campaigns turn to them for guidance because they know we had to deal with our fair share of surprises back in the day. Since the last two campaigns were focused on getting our teacher elected to Congress, another of our big changes is the roles we play. Instead of working locally in our district, we are trying to get a hundred people chosen by Viano, whom we’ve never even met in person, elected across the country.
“Do I dare ask?”
“He made a couple of off-color racial comments and called a female detractor an ‘uneducated tramp only good for soliciting on a street corner.’”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, he’s in pretty hot water right now,” she concludes.
“Being a racist and a sexist doesn’t boost one’s likability.” It also makes me wonder where Viano got some of these people. “Keep me informed. Peyton?”
“I have had to deal with a couple of dumb Facebook posts and tweets, but nothing that epic, thank God,” she reports to the group.
“Okay, thanks, Peyton. Bri?”
“Hash tag icandidate trends on Twitter almost nightly. If you count Reyes’s and our campaigns, likes on Facebook pages are steadily increasing. Blogs across the country are writing about our little movement, some, ironically, calling it a ‘revolución.’ How do you suppose that happened, Vince?”
Vince and Vanessa are sitting next to me, but they logged on to our Skype session with their own computers. I look over to see the wry expression on his face.
“Great minds think alike?” he posits, clearly letting us know through his look where the bloggers got that gem from. Vanessa takes it upon herself to smack him on the head. Yep, just like old times.
“Anyway, we can’t really complain about the social media traction we’re getting,” Brian finishes.
“Nor what it means for mainstream coverage,” Emilee chimes in. “My afternoon class got cancelled, so I spent the time looking at TV and print reporting on a couple of dozen campaigns. It’s not exactly Bennitmania from two years ago, but they are getting a respectable amount of free press.”
“Comparing anything to our first campaign probably isn’t fair,” Vanessa concludes. “We were rock stars.” Yeah we were. No police escorts are needed this time around.
“Speaking of stars,” Peyton interjects, “nice game the other night, X. Eighteen points against Duke is pretty impressive.”
“Thanks. I wish I could contribute more …”
“We understand, believe me,” Vanessa says. “The fact that you have done this much and still been able to balance classes and hoops is incredible.”
Five days before the election and all we really have to do is just engage in small talk. Xavier is on the periphery of this effort, but we are all proud of how well he is doing as a freshman on the college basketball scene. While the others grill him on what it’s like to be a big-time student athlete, all I can think about is how to get through Election Day.
The challenge is not to get Mister Bennit reelected, but to keep working on getting him some help in Congress. The icandidates are polling extremely well according to Marist, Quinnipiac, Gallup, and the dozen other groups taking the country’s political temperature on a nightly basis. It is going to be a race to the finish in most of those contests. Their staffs are doing the majority of the work now, and all we can do is be there for them in case something pops up they can’t handle.
It’s not exactly the drama-filled ending our first election had, but it beats being smeared all over the nightly news. I don’t miss the angst of those couple of days, but I do miss the adrenaline rush. That’s not to say we shouldn’t expect to see a few surprises in other races, but for ours, the outcome is almost assured.
I sign off the video conference and notice Congressman Reyes walk into the Buzz with a handsome Asian man at his side. What the hell is going on? I leave my post in the corner and greet the two men at the door.
“Congressman Reyes, it’s great seeing you again. What brings you all the way to Connecticut?”
He is looking around the room, admiring the décor and the flurry of activity around us. About a third of the volunteers stayed behind after our staff meeting and are only now retrieving their coats and belongings for the trip home.
“Hello, Miss Stanton,” he says, returning my firm handshake. “I’d love to say I travelled all the way up here because I need a triple espresso, but truth is, we need to have a chat with your boss, and it requires an in person meeting. Do you think he can spare a moment?”
-FORTY-ONE-
MICHAEL
“For you, I have more than a moment,” Congressman Bennit says as he gives our only elected ally a handshake and hug accompanied with a couple of hard slaps on the back. Kylie rolls her eyes at the display of man affection. “Cisco, it’s five days until the election and you’re taking a road trip?”
“I got all my lawns mowed early,” he answers with his typical self-effacing cultural humor. “If it wasn’t important, I wouldn’t be up here freezing my ass off. You need to hear this. Can we talk here?”
Mister Bennit looks at Cisco’s friend and then back at Laura who is finishing cleaning up behind the counter so she can go home.
“Laura is through here, so we have to get going, but there is a quaint little restaurant around the corner still open I think.” The Asian man nods.
“I will never understand your decision to work out of the coffee shop again, so I guess it will have to,” Cisco adds. “Not that you don’t run an impressive operation from here.”
“My chief of staff believes in keeping me well-caffeinated, so this works. Give us a minute to grab our coats,” I say, indicating I want Kylie and Chelsea to be there for whatever this is. “We can do the introductions on the way.”
We retrieve our coats and head out into the chilly New England evening. We walk through the parking lot to the front of the Perkfect Buzz and then make a right, heading down the sidewalk towards the center of town.
“Okay, Cisco, who’s your friend?”
“Terry Nyguen,” he says, shaking my hand. He also introduces himself to Chelsea and Kylie as we walk.
“Terry is a senior coordinator for the Freedom Coalition for Responsible Government. You ever heard of it?”
I look back at Chelsea, hoping she has. There are so many organizations based in Washington that it is near impossible to know them all and still do my job.
“A think tank dedicated to the spirit of the constitutional convention that decries ideologues and promotes moderate candidates in races across the country,” Chelsea says. Yep, that’s why she runs my staff.
Think tanks are research organizations and advocacy groups that delve into public policy areas ranging from political strategy to business policies. Most are non-profit organizations, while others receive funding from wide-ranging interests including “concerned citizens” and even governments themselves. They can be incredibly partisan or not at all, making distinguishing between them nearly impossible for anyone not an insider.
We enter the little bistro and settle into a corner booth where we can enjoy some privacy. After my last restaurant run-in with somebody I don’t know, I almost wish I had Brian here to record this again.
“I can’t say I have ever heard of you, Mr. Nyguen. Especially odd considering I’m probably your poster boy.” Not to mention he looks like a mercenary, with his short haircut and military demeanor. I’ve served with sergeants major who were less intimidating than this guy.
“We’re a small operation that provides financial backing and political advice to moderate candidates willing to work to find a consensus in Washington. You have never needed us before now.”
“And from our experiences, you haven’t had a lot of success in your objective,” Chelsea adds, clearly meaning to test him.
“A prospect I also hope will change shortly. I understand your apprehension―”
“Which is why you approached Cisco instead of coming directly to us,” Kylie finishes. Always the journalist, she is digging to get to the bottom of exactly who this guy is and why he’s here.
“Honestly, yes.”
“You need to understand something, Terry. Trust is not something we have a huge supply of these days. Now you show up here, days before the election, and expect us to buy whatever it is you’re selling?”
“Hear him out guys. Please,” Cisco pleads. We all nod, but hardly give him a ringing endorsement to continue.
“I don’t expect you to buy anything, Miss Stanton,” he says, leveling with us. “You can choose to ignore everything I have to say here. All I am asking is for you to hear me out. We can take it from there.”
“Go ahead, Terry.”
“Congressman Bennit, are you aware there is a rumor floating around that you plan on uniting the icandidates under one political banner once they are elected?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Kylie asks before a word can slip from my mouth.
“No, I’m not. Are you planning on forming a third party if all these independents you are helping win?”
“No.”
“Someone in your camp says you are.” He looks at each of us, clearly trying to gauge our reactions. “These ideas don’t come out of nowhere, and the source of this rumor has to be someone well informed, because it’s gaining traction.”
I begin to think of the people close to the campaign, but quickly realize I am looking at things the wrong way. Maybe not in my camp, but issued a visitor’s pass to it. I look at Chelsea to see if we are on the same page.
“Viano,” is all she has to say. I agree with her, but I don’t want to air the laundry in front of this guy. I don’t trust him enough to let him in on our relationship with the former senator.
“We can figure out if that’s the case later, Chels, but right now I want to know why it matters.”
“It doesn’t, insofar as it only leads me to the next piece of information. Are you familiar with Ibram & Reed?”
“You can’t spend a day in the House and not be.”
“They were the ones who helped run the little operation to get the congressman sent packing out of D.C.,” Chelsea adds. “William Mashburn was one of their employees.”
“You may want to reconsider using the past tense, Miss Stanton. They aren’t done yet.”
“What do you mean?” Kylie asks. I am not sure where Terry gets his intel from, but it’s clearly news to the woman who lives for uncovering underhanded dealings each day for the Washington Post.
“I don’t have specifics, but my sources are telling me they are looking for a way to help the leadership neutralize any independent that gets elected.”
“I haven’t heard anything of the sort,” Kylie retorts, clearly upset that she may be getting scooped by some guy at a think tank. “That firm has bunkered itself to fight off a pending federal investigation of framing an elected official. They wouldn’t dare make another play so soon.”
“Yet they are. They may be hiding from people like you in the media, but it is still very much business as usual for them behind closed doors. Their crusade against you experienced a setback in their eyes, nothing more.”
“Why?”
When I was in a classroom, it was the question I loved to ask my students. It’s one thing to know when the American Revolution happened or who was involved in the women’s suffrage movement, but understanding the why is the relevant part.
“That’s the real question, isn’t it? I only can offer a theory. People have come to understand getting elected to Congress costs a lot of money. It is a truth that has been propagated for decades now by the very interests we are talking about. Your first race showed a campaign could be competitive without that level of financial support.”
“And even if they look at the first race as a fluke …”
“Success of a hundred independents using the same model isn’t,” Kylie says, finishing Chelsea’s statement.
“You are changing that paradigm and it's scaring the wits out of some very powerful people, and I don’t mean just the smooth-talkers at Ibram & Reed. There are other people out there that could make things dangerous for you, and I mean more than just politically.”
I look over at Cisco who meets my stare. Now I know why he brought Terry here to meet me, and why he did it in person. In the age of NSA scandals about wiretapping, electronic communication could be compromised. You can’t assume what your enemy’s capabilities are and aren’t. Great, now I’m thinking like the author of a spy novel.
“Who?”
“I don’t know, and that’s what makes me nervous. We know Ibram & Reed’s motives, along with some of the other power players. We can watch them. It’s the unknowns that make me nervous.”
“One hell of an assertion you’re making, Terry, considering you have no specific information to back it up.”
“Unfortunately, Congressman, what I’m telling you isn’t based on anything concrete. There is no imminent threat, so to speak, but something we wanted to make you aware of.”
“We being …?” Kylie asks, fishing for answers to who this guy really is.
“We being us.” Yeah, that helps.
“Having people target us is not outside the realm of possibilities. We’re poised to cause more casualties than Jack Bauer in this election, Michael.” Cisco knows how to speak my language.
I am amazed at just how surreal my life has become. Three years ago, I was a simple history teacher getting ready to ask my girlfriend to marry me. Now I’m having a cloak and dagger meeting in a restaurant, seriously discussing whether someone might try to kill me.
