Heinlein, Robert A – Expanded Universe

can take it, I can. This means a tougher campaign. We thought the dirt we had on

Jorgens was enough; now we’ve got to dig.”

“Don’t fret, Jack,” Mrs. Holmes soothed me. “We’ll dig. I’ll take charge of

the precinct work.”

“I thought your daughter in Denver was having a baby?”

“So she is. I’ll stick.”

I ducked out soon after, feeling much better, not because I thought I could

win, but because of Mrs. Holmes and Dr. Potter and more like them. The team spirit

you get in a campaign is pretty swell; I was feeling it again and recovering my

pre-War zip.

Before the War our community was in good shape. We had kicked out the local

machine, tightened up civil service, sent a police lieutenant to jail, and had put

the bidding for contracts on an honest-to-goodness competitive basis-not by praying

on Sunday, either, but by volunteer efforts of private citizens willing to get out

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and punch doorbells.

Then the War came along and everything came unstuck.

Naturally, the people who can be depended on for the in-and-out-of-season

grind of volunteer politics are also the ones who took the War the most seriously.

From Pearl Harbor to Hiroshima they had no time for politics. It’s a wonder the city

hail wasn’t stolen during the War-bolted to its foundations, I guess.

On my way home I stopped at a drive-in for a hamburger and some thought.

Another car squeezed in close beside me. I glanced up, then blinked my eyes. “Well,

I’ll be-Miss Nelson! Who let you out alone?”

She jerked her head around, ready to bristle, then turned on the

vote-getter. “You startled me. You’re Mr. Ross, aren’t you?”

“Your future councilman,” I agreed. “You startled me. How’s the politicking?

Where’s Cliff Meyers? Dump him down a sewer?”

She giggled. “Poor Mr. Meyers! I said goodnight to him at my door, then came

over here. I was hungry.”

“That’s no way to win elections. Why didn’t you invite him in and scramble

some eggs?”

“Well, I just didn’t want-I mean I wanted a chance to think. You won’t tell

on me?” She gave me the yougreat-big-strong-man look.

“I’m the enemy-remember? But I won’t. Shall I go away, too?”

“No, don’t. Since you are going to be my councilman, I ought to get

acquainted. Why are you so sure you will beat me, Mr. Ross?”

“Jack Ross-your friend and mine. Have a cigar. I’m not at all sure I can

beat you. With your natural advantages and Tully’s gang behind you I should ‘a stood

in bed.

Her eyes went narrow; the vote-getter smile was gone. “What do you mean?”

she said slowly. “I’m an independent candidate.”

It was my cue to crawl, but I passed. “You expect

me to swallow that? With Cliff Meyers at your elbow-” The car hop interrupted us; we

placed our orders and I resumed. She cut in.

“I do want to be alone,” she snapped and started to close her window.

I reached out and placed a hand on the glass. “Just a moment. This is

politics; you are judged by the company you keep. You show up at your first meeting

and Cliff Meyers has you under his wing.”

“What’s wrong with that? Mr. Meyers is a perfect gentleman.”

“And he’s good to his mother. He’s a man with no visible means of support,

who does chores for Boss Tully. I thought what everybody thought, that the boss had

sent him to chaperone a green candidate.”

“It’s not true!”

“No? You’re caught in the jam cupboard. What’s your story?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t have to explain anything to you.

“No. But if you won’t, the circumstances speak for themselves.” She didn’t

answer. We sat there, ignoring each other, while we ate. When she switched on the

ignition, I said, “I’m going to tail you home.”

“It’s not necessary, thank you.”

“This town is a rough place since the War. A young woman should not be out

alone at night. Even Cliff Meyers is better than nobody.”

“That’s why I let them- Do as you see fit!” I had to skim red lights, but I

kept close behind her. I expected her to rush inside and slam the door, but she was