Free The High Road by Terry Fallis

campaign, uncovering at least a dozen Liberal voters despite Mohawks, facial piercings, and, occasionally, cosmetics.
    This time, the plan was to have the two Petes coordinate all the campaign volunteers. We thought they were up to it and they agreed. By working on Angus’s staff in the constit office for the last few months, they’d come to know many in the community, and more importantly, the community had come to know them (rather than fearing and fleeing them, as many had at the outset). Muriel’s prodding had worked, and they’d toned down their punk wardrobe, particularly when they were working. In our meeting, Pete1 sported just an eyebrow piercing, a tongue stud, and
Angus!
stencilled in red on his hairless head. Pete2 wore nice khakis, an oxford cloth button-up, a Liberal red nose ring, fluorescent pink Doc Martens, and blue hair coiffed neatly. Clearly they were in transition.
    The news that Angus was in the race spread quickly. In fact, when we’d finished our meeting elevating the two Petes to volunteer coordinators, there were ten volunteers waiting patiently in the reception area to report for duty. I was stunned, and initially I couldn’t believe it. But after interrogating the assembled mob for ten minutes I was forced to admit that it all seemed on the up and up. Unsolicited Liberal volunteers showing up on day one of the campaign … in Cumberland-Prescott? Maybe the local political landscape was shifting beneath our feet – except, of course, that the local Conservatives could count on volunteers in the hundreds. Still, Pete1 and Pete2 leapt into their new duties and took control of enrolling the volunteers. Muriel, the den mother and hard-headed political strategist, just sat back and beamed.
    But winning the riding was not the first priority. Angus hadn’t yet even been nominated as the Liberal candidate. Incumbents are rarely challenged for their own nominations but it had happened in the past. And these were strange times politically. We could take nothing for granted. By moving ahead and opening the campaign office, we hoped to discourage any other closeted Liberals from jumping into the nomination race. It was perhaps a little aggressive to hold a news conference and then open a campaign office without the official nomination. I worried briefly that we might be violating Liberal Party rules. I raised this concern with Muriel. “Don’t know, don’t care” was all she said. Good enough for me.
    As the only surviving executive member of the nearly moribund Cumberland-Prescott Liberal Association, Muriel had the authority to call the nomination meeting for Wednesday. We reserved the Cumberland Community Centre next door to the Riverfront Seniors’ Residence.
    I slid behind my desk after closing my office door and reached for the phone. Yes, I actually had an office with a door. If this had been broadly known, I’d have been the envy of most other campaign managers across the country regardless of political stripe. Most had only a trestle table in the middle of a crampedand crowded room.
    “News desk, Fontaine here,” crackled over the phone.
    “André, it’s Daniel Addison.”
    “Hey Daniel, I was just going to call you. What did you make of my piece in the
Globe
last week?”
    “It was a great story, André. You nailed it. I particularly liked ‘Quixotic dash up to Ottawa’ and ‘potent political partnership.’ Loved it,” I gushed. “You must have been thrilled to get it into the
Globe
.”
    “It’s always good to go national. My editor here likes the profile it gives the
Crier
, and it brings in a bit more coin,” he explained. “So what have you got for me? What’s the word?”
    “Well, you’ve always done right by us so I wanted to give you a heads-up about the Liberal nomination meeting.”
    “Wednesday at the community centre? I already heard about it. I’ll probably be there, but if Angus is running unopposed, as I’ve heard, it’s somewhat anticlimactic. Not