I, Soldier - part 28

"From a statistical perspective, being a flip-flopper doubles your chances of winning. Machiavelli was not a mathematician."

"I'm getting some croutons in case you plan on serving any more word salad tonight."

Soon enough, it was the night of the debate. We were the front-runner and I had high hopes that the decisive moment of the campaign was upon us. I decided it was best to watch the debate from home on TV with little Catherine on my knee. "Look Cathy, mommy is on TV!" I told her. She hadn't said her first word yet but watched the screen intently.

The moderator welcomed the candidates and each of them gave an opening statement. Since Alexandra was in the lead, she went first. I told her beforehand during debate practice that since she would be behind a podium, the most important part of her look was what was visible and that it was best to wear heels to compensate for being shorter than the others on stage. The expression on her face at that moment indicated that perhaps I should not have taught her how to throw a knife. Oh well, in the end she followed my advice. The part of her outfit that night that was visible above the podium was a long sleeve white blouse with a black neck tab. She had on what looked like reading glasses and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. I suggested the ponytail for increased peripheral vision and because of the dramatic effect if she turned her head suddenly. On the whole, she had the look of a stern librarian; a look which was softened by pink lipstick. 

I turned up the volume as the camera focused on her. Her name was displayed on the screen.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm running in this election to fulfill a vision, a vision shared by many Americans about the ideals this country was founded on liberty, equality, and tranquility. For too long, many of our fellow citizens have not had a fair share of these basic rights. The methods that have been used to change that are too slow, and I plan on moving much faster once elected. We don't win unless we all win together."  

There was a decent amount of applause. I thought it was a strong start.

The other four candidates had speeches that were more or less interchangeable. They all talked about putting American workers first, fighting inflation, and being tough on communism. All of them made a mention of humble beginnings on a farm or in a small town. It was like watching all the lazy kids in a class copying each other's homework. 

I was waiting for the first attack on Alexandra. As the frontrunner, someone was bound to try to knock her off her perch. Cathy was getting sleepy. I bottle fed her for a while and put her to bed in her crib. It had a handmade dolphin plush toy to keep her company. Alexandra made it herself. She was crafty in all sorts of ways.

Becoming a father and husband meant a lot to me. It gave me a great sense of inner peace. After the horrors of Vietnam, I didn't think I was capable of love, but I sought it anyway. Fortunately, I was wrong to believe that I was emotionally dead. I just needed time to recover; a lot of time, as it turned out. 

Back to the debate. The tallest opponent, Jackson, decided to take a swipe at Alexandra. He had the soft features of a man unaccustomed to violence of any sort. I almost felt sorry for him. 

"Mrs. Murphy, why do you think voters will support your pie-in-the-sky fantasies? There are already plenty of politicians blowing hot air."

There was some scattered laughter and the self-satisfied look on his face made it clear that he thought he had said something very witty. 

"Well, Mr. Jackson, I have two remarks on that: you're fat and shut up."

That got the whole room laughing, even all her opponents on stage. She certainly had good comedy timing. After the laughter died down, the moderator spoke.

"Well, uh, let's try harder to keep things civil, shall we? How about we hear from the other candidates. I'll give you a prompt: given the recent defeat in Vietnam, how should we face communism?"

Kent, the best-looking opponent, decided to respond. 

"We should not let any setback discourage us from confronting the danger of communism, or any other foreign threat, to our way of life. Our military is still the finest the world has ever known, and I'll eat my shoe if anyone says otherwise."

"You should talk to my husband about the state of our military and fighting communism. He fought in Vietnam. You didn't."

Careful, Alexandra, I thought. Also, please don't drag me into this bullshit.

"Your husband went on a rampage not long after his discharge from the Army. He almost killed several police officers. What do you say to that?"

Oh shit, this guy clearly did his research. See, Alexandra. This is what happens when you get too aggressive.

"He was suffering extreme stress after years of intense combat in which he was nearly killed several times. He made restitution to the victims and has since been using his language skills as a federal government employee. I wouldn't have married him if I didn't think he was a good man."

"We should let the public decide that. I challenge your husband to speak at press conference."

"He will. He's not afraid of anyone."

Well, I guess that settles it. Time to get ready for that press conference. In the midst of danger lies opportunity. There's no such thing as bad publicity.