Supreme Courtship

CHAPTER 26

Ifelt good about that,” Dexter said to Bussie Scrump and a half-dozen campaign operatives aboard the Freedom Express, the Mitchell campaign’s official bus, on its way from Memphis to Little Rock.

“You should. You were great. But this is an unusual situation. Attacking a guy who who just stands there going, Fine, don’t vote for me. You were good on defense, good on energy. On the Colombian situation, if it comes up again, and it will, maybe not do send-in-the-Nimitz. It felt a little flat. On border mining, I’m a little nervous about it. Maybe ease back on the throttle there.”

Dexter shook his head. “No, no, no. No. The nums, Buss, the nums. Eighty percent. The vast majorities of the people in the border states want mines on the border. The federal government has failed them. A government that can’t do borders? The people are frustrated. They’re angry. They want to hear boom-boom! They want to see wetbacks flying into the air. Is it a perfect solution? No. Is democracy messy? Sure. But it’s time to end the highfalutin philosophical discussions and come down off the Acropolis and get real. Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California. Tot it up. Ninety electoral votes. Out of the two-seventy needed to win. Who am I to say to the good, hardworking, decent-legal-residents of these states, ‘Uh-uh. Forget it. You’re just going to have to live with millions of foreigners swarming across the border, tromping across your lawns, crapping in the flower beds, having babies in your hospitals, sending their kids to your schools for free English lessons, smashing into your car without insurance.’ Oh, fuck it. Border-mining is never going to happen, so where’s the harm in being for it? It’s a freebie.”

An aide came back and handed Dexter a printout. “ Minnesota ratified the term limit amendment fifteen minutes ago!”

“Excellent. Excellent news. What are we up to now? Twenty- five?”

“Twenty-six. Eight to go.”

Dexter considered. He asked for privacy with Bussie.

“Call Billy Begley,” he said. “Tell him to call the senate majority leaders and the speakers of the house in Rhode Island, Delaware, Wyoming, Oregon. Hell with it-tell him to call all eight. Tell them: on day one of the Mitchell administration, the OPEN FOR BUSINESS sign is going back up on the White House. Whatever they want. Dams, eel farms, Institute for the Study of How Many Gerbils Fit Up a Hollywood Actor’s Ass, a Museum of Lint, whatever. But Buss-tell Billy: we need the amendment now. Not after the election. Now. Tomorrow. Yesterday would be even better.”

“I’m on it,” Bussie said, flipping open his cell phone.

“Buss,” Dexter said. “We’re not the von Trapp family. Let’s not yell this from the mountaintop. And this did not come from me. What’s the most beautiful word in the English language?”

“Pussy?”

“The second most, then. Discretion, Buss. How do we spell it? D-i-s-c-r-e-t-i-o-n.”

“Dex. It’s my middle name.”

“Your middle name is Ellrod, Buss. But make the call.”