Story 18/1001

• vote
• march
• gregarious

“There you are!” Simon Blackwater exclaimed and walked towards me.

I have been waiting for two hours, and here he is, acting like he was searching for me the whole time. Must be nice to think everyone should eat from your hand.

I smiled and shook his hand. I might dislike politicians, but I’m not stupid. They write the checks, I deliver.

“Mister Blackwater. Or should I say, mayor Blackwater?” I added, and he smiled, showing his perfect white teeth.

“Only if I can get your vote, too.” He retorted. “Every voice matters. Shall we get to business?”

He escorted me to his office. It was a room I’ve seen many times before – white walls, glass shelves filled with books, and a big table in the middle, next to the window. Only this time, it was filled with flowers – I suppose his supporters already named him mayor.

I sat on the opposite side of the table and waited for his security team to leave the room.

“Let’s talk about the campaign, Lewis.” His face shifted, revealing a dark side only a few people know exists.

“Which proposal do you like best, mister Blackwater?”

I handed him two folders, one depicting a public assassination, and the other opting for a private one.

“You know; I have always seen myself as a people person.” He stood up, closing the files.

Here we go again. He will try to ease his guilt by giving himself enough reason to believe it was inevitable. I tried hard to keep a smile on my face. One that would make you talk for ages, thinking I actually care.

“Sociable. Gregarious. Voice of the people. For the people. Those are all written everywhere I go. Even in my high school yearbook.” He looked at me, and I nodded. “But, as much as I love people, I can’t stand by the sins some of them committed.”

Could he be referring to the affair he’s having with his secretary? Or the fact his rival actually got his mistress pregnant, and paid her to leave the country while adopting the child as his own? Or is he referring to the fact that everyone thinks the child came from his so far fruitless marriage? One can only wonder.

“I am also just a man. But I am a God’s man. I respect His wishes; I listen to His will. I dare not take a man’s honor. And even he has some of it left.” He paused, like he was waiting for affirmation.

“It can be done during the march.”

“I can always count on you, Lewis.” He patted my shoulders.

“Beautiful things can come from tragedies. We should not fret them, but embrace them.”

Spoken like a true preacher-turned-politician. I guess his speech already had this tragedy in mind. Only players like him can make such events into winning hands.

I nodded and got up from my chair. As I walked towards the doors, I could hear him drumming the march rhythm with his fingers.