Tom and I watched it, then got to work. No sleep that night — More pasters. Windshield size this time, 3″xlO”, with glue on the printed side. I suppose half the cars in town have no garages, housing being what it is. We covered every block in the district before dawn, Tom driving and me on the right with a pail of water, a sponge, and stickers. He would pull alongside a car; I would slap a sticker on the windshield where it would stare the driver in the face-and have to be scraped off. They read: VOTE FOR McNYE-KEEP AMERICA PURE.
We figured it would help to remind people to vote. I voted myself when the polls opened, then fell into bed.
I pulled myself together in time to get to the party at the headquarters-an empty building we had borrowed for the last month of the campaign. I hadn’t given a thought to poll watchers or an honest count — that was Mrs. Holmes’ baby-but I didn’t want to miss the returns.
One election party is like another-the same friendly drunks, the same silent huddle around the radio, the same taut feeling. I helped myself to some beer and potato chips and joined the huddle.
“Anything yet,” I asked Mrs. Holmes. “Where’s Frances?”
“Not yet. I made her lie down.”
“Better get her out here. The candidate has to be seen. When people work for a pat on the back, you’ve got to give ’em the pat.”
But Frances showed up about then, and went through the candidate routine-friendly, gracious, thanking people, etc. I began to think about running her for Congress.
Tom showed up, bleary-eyed, as the first returns came in. All McNye. Frances heard them and her smile slipped. Dr. Potter went over to her and said, “It’s not important-the machine’s precincts are usually first to report.” She plastered her smile back on.
McNye piled up a big lead. Then our efforts began to show-Nelson was pulling up. By 10:30 it was neck and neck. After a while it began to look as if we had elected a councilman.
Around midnight McNye got on the air and conceded.
So I’m a councilman’s field secretary now. I sit outside the rail when the council meets; when I scratch my right ear, Councilman Nelson votes “yes”; if I scratch my left ear, she votes “no” — usually.
Marry her? Me? Tom married her. They’re building a house, one bedroom and two bathrooms. When they can get the fixtures, that is.