Free The Best Laid Plans by Terry Fallis

she chirped.
    “Well, it was more like a splashdown. But thank you for keeping the story alive. I was beginning to think my 15 minutes were up already.”
    She laughed. I laughed. Muriel laughed.
    “Lindsay is halfway through her master’s degree in political science. She’s researching the role of the Senate,” Muriel remarked.
    “Oh, don’t tell me; you’re advocating an elected Senate,” I suggested, trying to hide the skepticism from my voice.
    She laughed again. “Nope, I think I’m the only one around who still believes in appointing the chamber of sober second thought. I’ve never been a fan of creating another House of Commons. One is quite enough,” Lindsay said.
    “Well, Ms. Dewar, then we have something in common. I’m actually a big fan of the Senate just the way it is. It does some very good committee work that never gets enough air time,” I offered. I think I caught her off guard. Recovering, she seemed pleased with my response; hence, I was pleased.
    Muriel interrupted our mutual admiration society. “Lindsay, dear, what I neglected to tell you was that Daniel recently left Parliament Hill where he worked in the Leader’s office for several years.”
    “Ah, so you’ve been paroled,” Lindsay joked.
    “Yes, in a manner of speaking, I have. But my debt to society will not be fully paid until after this election.” It was time to go before Isaid something to threaten the reasonably good first impression I thought I’d left. Anyway, I needed to sit down with Angus to be briefed for my first class with the engineering frosh. I gathered the nomination forms from Muriel and offered my hand to Lindsay. “Well, I’ll leave you two to your cribbage. Be gentle with her, Muriel. It was really great to meet you, Lindsay, and I hope Liberal tendencies run in your family. We could sure use the help on the campaign. Muriel, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at seven o’clock. We’ll check out the headquarters and lay out the campaign.”
    “I’ll be ready. Good night, Daniel,” Muriel replied.
    “Nice to meet you, Daniel,” chimed Lindsay.
    I sauntered out of the room, this time to only a smattering of applause from my adoring fans. In another week, I’ll need to fall off the boardwalk into the water to restore my tragicomic standing at the Riverfront Seniors’ Residence. Jasper gave me the thumbs-up as I hit the crash bar on the front door. I waved and was out.
    “Okay, what am I in for?” I asked and looked at Angus, sitting on the couch in his living room. I again sat in the easy chair and sipped a Coke – the course syllabus open on my lap. Without answering, he handed me a large binder with many coloured tabs – week one, week two, week three, etcetera. I flipped through it and found talking points to carry me through the weekly lectures for the entire course. For the second time in as many days, the phrase
I am saved
shoved its way into my thoughts.
    “This is perfect! How long did it take you to pull this together?” I inquired.
    “You’re holdin’ in yer hands the product of nearly 20 years of survivin’ this abominable class. I’ve taught E for E five times in two decades, and I’m sane today because of that binder,” he noted. “The more you can lose yourself in those lectures, the less engaged with the class you’ll need to be. Just ignore ’em and keep on talkin’. It’s easier that way.”
    “How many students will there be?” I asked.
    “Well, the course is mandatory for all 120 first-year engineers, but about half of ’em won’t show up after the first class. If you don’t feel like talkin’, you can always lob a provocative question into the seats and let the discussion flow,” Angus said.
    I turned to the talking points for the first lecture and followed through them. They looked straightforward to me.
    “Yer first encounter with the philistines tomorrow is not a full three hours but just an hour-long orientation so that you can introduce yourself,