Free The Candidate by Paul Harris Page A

cup and gulped it down.
    “Happy election day!” she toasted to herself and walked out into the room.
    None of the score or so of people already there was surprised to see her. In fact, Dee collapsing in her office and spending the night was a common occurrence over the last two weeks of the campaign. Now, on election day itself, few expected her to be anywhere else.
    Dee felt the distant buzz of the alcohol hit her system. It gave her a welcome thrill, drilling through the tiredness in her mind like sunshine poking through clouds. She felt her mood shift; her excitement begin to kick into gear and the adrenalin start to move through her veins. This was it. Everything in this whole race had been building up to this final hurdle and now they had to jump it. It was do or die time.
    “Morning people!” she shouted. “Today I am going to make your lives hell. But tonight you will thank me for it!”
    In a frenzy of activity she whirled from desk to desk, haranguing staff, shouting at volunteers, balling out aides. She had no time to think, she was just running on pure instinct. Everything had to go right. The volunteer teams carrying placards had to be on the street corners, the teams of drivers giving people lifts to the caucus venues had to pick up every single one of their targets, the weather reports were crucial. They needed sun. Without it, just the old and determined would show up. Hodges’ appeal went to the young and the students too; the working moms; the unemployed and the immigrants. Sunshine meant those groups were more likely to turn out. One single mistake, one overlooked voter, could mean the difference between life and death for this campaign. It was Dee’s job to make sure that did not happen.
    Around noon, Hodges and Christine came into the headquarters. Unlike the staff members, the candidate and his wife had enjoyed a leisurely morning. Forbidden from directly campaigning, they had slept in and indulged in a late breakfast. They looked relaxed as they moved attentively through the frenzied room, stopping to thank volunteers and staffers alike. Finally, they got to Dee and she ushered them into a back room, clicking the door shut behind them. It felt like a little island of peace and quiet on a stormy sea.
    “How’s it going, Dee?” Hodges asked, settling down into the chair. There seemed something at ease about him as if, with judgment about to be decided, he at last felt liberated from the strain. He had done all he could.
    “It’s looking good,” Dee said, and then flashed a grin. “But how the fuck would we really know? An Iowa caucus is one of the strangest elections in the whole of the free world. I’d be lying if I said I knew for sure what’s going to really be on the minds of these folks.”
    That was the truth. Dee had worked and crafted this campaign in meticulous detail. She helped Hodges form himself into the very image of a president in the making. After the shooting, they ran a flawless campaign, dominating the headlines, attacking their opponents and rising in the polls. Nothing went wrong. She knew that. But did she really know what was going on? She was essentially just placing a gigantic bet. A bet that all their careers relied on.
    Hodges shrugged. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder with his hand, something she had seen him do a hundred times with ordinary Iowans. Suddenly she felt his power and charisma; felt the blue-eyed gaze falling on her. It was like an electric shock. For the first time she understood what is it was really like to meet her candidate.
    “I trust you, Dee,” he said simply, his eyes boring into hers.
    And, for the first time in weeks, Dee knew — truly knew — that it would be okay.
     
    * * *
     
    MIKE SAT on the bed of his hotel room in Garden City surrounded by the remains of a takeout pizza and a six-pack of beer. Both merely filled his stomach and dulled his head. They did not actually calm his nerves as he obsessively switched through the