King of the Mountain: Part 16


Lynn Jepsen


CJ beaned me on the head with a ball point pen. Her aim's gotten better
over the years. Either that, or I'm slower to dodge. "Someone get Carol
on the phone!" The slam of the door doesn't do a thing for my mood, but
at least I've had my coffee... Now if only I could get that IV caffeine
drip going... "Josh, you've got staff in four minutes." Rachel grabs a
stack of folders off my desk and drops them inside a file cabinet, as she
shoos me out of the office. She's efficient. She's also exactly like her
mother. Fortunately for me, she's still speaking to me - her mother
isn't. Sam was easy to make up with - Sarah, well, I haven't figured out
how to go about that yet.

CJ is yelling into the phone, and from her complete lack of tact, I can
only pray she's not talking to a reporter. "Go get me a copy of the
Dallas Morning News!" The volunteers in the bullpen stare openmouthed at
each other. CJ has not yelled like that in a long time, certainly not in
front of these kids. Hell, most of the college kids were in junior high
the last time we did this. "I don't care if you have to drive to Texas.
Do it now!" Well, that was soft and kind, Claudia Jean. Are you trying to
frighten away the volunteers? Speaking of the volunteers, I can hear the
cacophony - 760 verbal SAT, remember - of noise that rises from the
volunteers. They should be scared. CJ is scary. Who wouldn't be scared of
a six foot tall Amazon?

"The Dallas Morning News, conservative trash that it is, is running a
story, front page, above the fold, on, and I quote, Governor Seaborn's
habitual drug use."

What the hell!

*

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Turn. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
Turn. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Turn. One. Two. Three. "Stop
that! You're starting to make me nervous!" Leigh's voice sounds just a
bit shriller than usual, not, of course, that it makes a difference,
because I don't break stride. At least I'm getting some exercise right
now. She's just staring at the phone. "You don't like me, do you?" Now,
why would you say that. Just because I might have screamed at Sam in the
middle of the State Legislature when he told me to hire you doesn't mean
I don't like you - it means I hate you.

"That's really unhealthy. I thought CJ mentioned you were working on
anger management?" I am. I just can't manage the anger I've got going for
you. "You do realize I was just doing my job, right?" Sure, so was I. She
gets this odd look on her face then, and resumes staring at the phone. If
the damn thing doesn't ring soon, we're going to have to postpone the
press conference. "You do realize I was just doing what any good lawyer
would have done, don't you?" Look, Leigh, I'm sure you're a decent
lawyer, and I'm sure you're a decent political operative, but right now,
I could give a damn. Are we completely clear on that?

I watch her take a shallow breath then, and glance between me and the
phone. "We're going to win New Hampshire, and lose to Reynolds and
Nichols in Iowa. Delaware next week, we're polling second. Klein will
drop out Tuesday after New Hampshire - we'll get his support and his
money." Point being? I have worked in Congress, and in the White House,
and I've worked for Sam for six years now. I think I'm smart enough to
have those basics down. "Of course, all of this means nothing if you
can't get the candidate into fighting form before we head into Junior
Tuesday. We already lost a news cycle on the jogging thing. We've got to
get the issues out there yesterday."

That, of course, would be the catch. I do know this. I know this quite
well, having suffered through the living breathing attitude that was Jed
Bartlet in 1998. I am, however, having a bit of trouble getting the
candidate to drop the SNL parody of himself that he's been doing quite
well and act like that fucking governor of California, not to mention the
next President of the United States, so if you have any advice to offer,
do it now.

"Josh, a minute?" Leo leans against the doorway, and I glare at Leigh
before leaving her alone in my office - in a past life, I think it was a
closet. "There's a situation in California. You and Toby are going to go
take care of it before we lose another news cycle." Leo, let's back this
up. First, what's the crisis, and second, when was I demoted to your
gopher. "The Hispanic Workers Association just announced unilateral
strikes in California. Gestures of support are coming from at least three
other unions." DAMN! I throw my fist haphazardly into the wall. A second
later, Leigh is staring past the phone and through the whole in my little
office wall at me.

Leo? "Yeah?" Toby and I are going to California. "I figured." Don't let
Leigh do too much damage. "If she weren't good at what she did..." Yeah,
I know. If she wasn't any good, Sam wouldn't put up with her, and Toby
would have wrung her neck long ago - just on principle. "She's a good
girl, Josh." So they tell me. I catch sight of a familiar bald head and
cigar-smelling Communications guru barreling through the volunteer pit
below and jog for the stairs. "Hey, Josh!" What? "She was a public
defender. You know, upholding those Constitutional Amendments you and
Toby seem to hate so much." Yeah, well.... TOBY!

*

The four of us end up on an eleven am flight to LA thanks to Rachel,
who's currently using my left arm as a pillow. We're in first class, on
my credit card, and I'm so frustrated by now, I could care less. Toby is
trying to muddle through the big book of California labor law, but he's
not having much luck, and Ramon's not paying enough attention to that to
actually explain it. Of course, that's my fault. He's just along for the
PR. Yeah, I know that's shallow, but it was his idea, so welcome aboard.
Besides, he's the one that worked on the new labor bill, and he's the one
that slaved away for the minimum wage increase, so I know he's foaming at
the mouth to explain to the strikers that none of it's the governor's
fault. Sam would have signed it if the House hadn't killed it.

Of course, try explaining that to 500,000 striking workers.

"Josh?" I try to lean forward in my seat, but when I realize I don't have
the use of my left arm, I settle for shooting a glare at the head
anchoring it down, and asking Ramon what he wants. "Can't we blame the
strike on Glasscock?" Okay, how exactly to you intend to blame the
President for our legislature not passing the State Labor Reform Act?
"Well, if Glasscock hadn't vetoed the Federal Labor Protections Act, we
wouldn't have to rely on the California Republicans to back our bill in
the state house. We just convince them that the White House position on
Labor would change if the Governor was elected." Okay, that's not a bad
idea. "Not bad? Josh, face it, it's the same thing we'd come up with,
except we'd give up a night of sleep to do it." Fine. Toby's probably
right, but it's not because I'm losing my touch - I just didn't work on
this bill.

When Rachel wakes up, Ramon and I switch seats. They're playing computer
games on his laptop, and I'm guessing it's one of those "you must be
under thirty to understand this" thing, because I definitely don't get
it. "Josh, can I ask you a personal question?" Sure, Toby, as long as it
doesn't concern my sanity, my anger management, my best friend's sister,
or Leigh Hunter. As soon as the flippant remarks get past my lips, I see
Toby squirm a little. Okay, something's wrong with this picture. "When
you dated CJ, did you ever know her to eat pickles with ketchup?" Ick!
No, I can't say I did, but come on, that was for, what, a week right
after the Inaugural? I certainly am not the CJ expert. Wait. Why? "She
ordered that for breakfast at the hotel. Yesterday she had cottage cheese
and mustard for lunch, and the day before, I know she ate a jar of peanut
butter and a box of saltines." Ooookaaaay. Nothing I wanted to know, but
thanks anyway. Hey, it's probably no big deal. I mean, Mandy always used
to eat weird junk. That was my cue to make myself scarce until the PMS
passed.

King of the Mountain: Part 17

HOME | TITLE | AUTHOR | CATEGORY