Few outside that room would look at MaryAnn and guess she held -- or even participated in -- sex orgies. In her real life, the one that took up ninety percent of the time, she was a serious writer and one of the best. She wrote feature stories and was associate editor for a large, regional magazine. Thanks to the Internet and the telephone she was able to work at home most of the time. She had to go into the office, nearly one hundred miles away, only for staff meetings.
The publisher didn't care how many hours she put in as long as she continued to turn out quality work, and she did. Thus she was also able to spend a considerable amount of time at the job she felt compelled to do -- save the world from itself. Opinion pieces flew here and there. Many showed up in America's top magazines and newspapers. Her interest in politics brought her full circle to Jeri, her close friend and a former sorority sister at the University.
Jeri was married to Fritz Overmeyer. Fritz was a top-notch lawyer who, like MaryAnn, wanted to save the world. It's a syndrome that afflicts the handful of people who actually take the time to think in a country infested with easy answers of superstition and dogma.
Fritz decided to enter politics and he got the party's endorsement in his district, one virtually conceded to the opposition. California lagged only behind Texas in gerrymandering, and a safe district was a safe district. After running unopposed in the primary, Fritz, a newcomer to politics, would be this year's token opponent for Charley Oswald, a Congressman firmly ensconced in Washington.
MaryAnn loved the idea of being in an uphill fight. She sensed a weakness in Oswald. He had been in Washington just too long and was smugly overconfident. But it was more than just the idea of a good, rousing fight. Fritz represented what she wanted to see in Washington and his opponent represented what she detested.
With the enthusiasm that characterized her writing, she jumped into the fray. Initially she wrote columns lauding the newcomer. Then, with Jeri's enthusiastic encouragement, she volunteered to work, pro bono, directly for Overmeyer. MaryAnn wrote press releases, and helped Fritz shape his own opinion pieces. They were clear, concise and compelling. The ideas were his, the words and style hers. She even hosted a big fund raising party -- one where folks kept their clothes on and their hands to themselves -- so far as she could tell.
As the campaign wore on Fritz made some inroads and was doing better than expected, but he was still behind, seemingly destined to be only a "stalwart opponent." Only a brave smile from him, Jeri, and his staff showed the optimism that few actually felt. They knew how difficult it would be to unseat the sitting congressman in his safely gerrymandered district.
Then Ron came through. A journalist himself, he had all sorts of inside contacts. One was a staffer for Overmeyer who had signed on as an idealistic supporter, but who got fed up with what he saw going on. He made copies of a hundreds of damning papers which showed his boss was involved up to his corpulent hips in bribery.
This belied his chauvinistic bragging that he did what was best for our brave soldiers. In fact, he had taken huge cash payments in order to push legislation that would benefit his backers no matter the consequences to the fighting men. Greedy, jingoistic, but dumb, he even kept a copy of a price list he gave to contractors!.
Ron told MaryAnn, "This no blow job scandal cupcake. This is the real McCoy and we got the goods backed up with solid proof. We can blow this guy out of office."
She looked at the information. It revealed a long, methodical tale of selling votes for money. My God this could result in an indictment! The evidence was damning and verifiable. MaryAnn sought a private conference with Fritz and Jeri. "How's about if I guarantee your victory in November? Like the idea?"
The candidate and his wife looked at each other in disbelief. Finally Jeri answered, "Of course. But we feel we're going to win. What's the big deal."
"The big deal is you think you are going to win when everybody who knows politics is certain you won't. Oh you'll do much better than originally expected but this district is solid and it will take a something spectacular to head him off. I have something spectacular and all we have to do is keep it secret until next week's debate. That will give you time to get your act together. It will send you to Washington, and Charles Oswald to jail. Best of all you will present it in such a dramatic way it cannot be denied, and his constituents will have to turn away from him."
A week later Fritz and his opponent took part in a locally televised debate. As expected, it didn't draw a big TV audience, but representatives of all the news media had to be there -- certain they would be bored. As it turned out, each got the story of his life, and each wished he had an exclusive to the fracas.
After the obligatory set of questions from the appointed reporters, each candidate was allowed to question the other. When it came his turn, Fritz pulled a large sheaf of papers from his jacket pocket. The top piece was a copy clearly labeled with Oswald's letterhead. Fritz made sure Oswald saw it.
Oswald did and he turned white. Fritz started asking questions about item after item. It was a long list of contracts, one after the other. Oswald had guided each through his House committee, then through congress itself. Many were items military officers denied even wanting. In each case Fritz had convincing evidence that Oswald had been paid either directly or by finagled real estate deals.
The race was over forthwith. Oswald tried to put up a brave front, claiming "out of context" over and over. But he was clearly crushed in the debate. The next day nearly every paper in the country blared the information in its headlines. Within a week the FBI had seized his records. An indictment was coming. Charles bravely "stayed the course," but the electorate had the last word. A man that crooked could not represent them, no matter that he was "their sort of person."
Fritz Overmeyer was going to go to Washington. A day after the election, won by a four to one margin, Jeri called on MaryAnn.
"Now what?" Jeri asked her old classmate, sorority sister, and partner in politics.
"Now you get to help run the country," said MaryAnn. "You like that?"
"I think so but . . . Aw hell old friend. Nobody really expected this. Now we will have to live in the spotlight. That's a terrible lot to ask of anybody."
"It sure as hell is and I don't envy you one bit. I am in the spotlight too. My picture is on the cover of a few books. There's my mug every month in the magazine. I'm on the air as a 'talking head' every so often. But for all that nobody gives a damn how I drive, much I drink, whether I write my mother regularly, or with whom I might have sex. You won't have such luxuries as long as Fritz stays in Washington."
