Heinlein, Robert A – Expanded Universe

waiting by the curb. “Thank you for seeing me home, Mr. Ross.”

“Quite all right.” I went upon her front porch with her and said goodnight.

“Mr. Ross-I shouldn’t care what you think, but I’m not with Boss Tully. I’m

independent.” I waited. Presently she said, “You don’t believe me.” The big,

beautiful eyes were shiny with tears.

“I didn’t say so-but I’m waiting for you to explain.”

“But what is there to explain?”

“Plenty.” I sat down on the porch swing. “Come here, and tell papa. Why did

you decide to run for office?”

“Well . . . ” She sat down beside me; I caught a disturbing whiff of

perfume. “It started because I couldn’t find an apartment. No, it didn’t-it was

farther back, out in the South Pacific. I could stand the insects and the heat. Even

the idiotic way the Army does things didn’t fret me much. But we had to queue up to

use the wash basins. There was even a time when baths were rationed. I hated it. I

used to lie on my cot at night, awake in the heat, and dream about a bathroom of my

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own. A bathroom of my own! A deep tub of water and time to soak. Shampoos and

manicures and big, fluffy towels! I wanted to lock myself in and live there. Then I

got out of the Army-”

“Yes?”

She shrugged. “The only apartment I could find carried a bonus bigger than

my discharge pay, and I couldn’t afford it anyhow.”

“What’s wrong with your own home?”

“This? This is my aunt’s home. Seven in the family and I make eight-one

bathroom. I’m lucky to brush my teeth. And I share a three-quarters bed with my

eight-year-old cousin.”

“I see. But that doesn’t tell why you are running for office.”

“Yes, it does. Uncle Sam was here one night and I was boiling over about the

housing shortage and what I would like to do to Congress. He said I ought to be in

politics; I said I’d welcome the chance. He phoned the next day and asked how would

I like to run for his seat? I said-”

“Uncle Sam-Sam Jorgens!”

“Yes. He’s not my uncle, but I’ve known him since I was little. I was

scared, but he said not to worry, he

would help me out and advise me. So I did and that’s all there is to it. You see

now?”

I saw all right. The political acumen of an Easter bunny-except that the

bunny rabbit was likely to lick the socks off me. “Okay,” I told her, “but housing

isn’t the only issue. How about the gas company franchise, for example and the

sewage disposal plant? And the tax rate? What airport deal do you favor? Do you

think we ought to ease up on zoning and how about the freeways?”

“I’m going after housing. Those issues can wait.”

I snorted. “They won’t let you wait. While you’re riding your hobbyhorse,

the boys will steal the public blind-again.”

“Hobbyhorse! Mister Smarty-Britches, getting a house is the most important

thing in the world to the man who hasn’t one. You wouldn’t be so smug if you were in

that fix.”

“Keep your shirt on. Me, I’m sleeping in a leaky trailer. I’m strong for

plenty of housing-but how do you propose to get it?”

“How? Don’t be silly. I’ll back the measures that push it.”

“Such as? Do you think the city ought to get into the building business? Or

should it be strictly private enterprise? Should we sell bonds and finance new

homes? Limit it to veterans, or will you help me, too? Heads of families only, or

are you going to cut yourself in on it? How about pre-fabrication? Can we do

everything you want to do under a building code that was written in 1911?” I paused

for breath. “Well?”

“You’re being nasty, Jack.”

“I sure am. But that’s not half of it. I’ll challenge you to debate on

everything from dog licenses to patent paving materials. A nice, clean campaign and

may the best man win-providing his name is Ross.”

“I won’t accept.”

“You’ll wish you had, before we’re through. My boys