"Water" was originally published in the literary/political journal LEFT CURVE (no longer with us) back in 2006. Enjoy!
She
chose him because of water. When the Phoenix Journal printed all the responses
of the candidates to what they would do if elected governor, he was the only
one to mention anything about the water problem in Arizona, which she thought
was brave because no one in Phoenix seemed to want to acknowledge that there
was a problem, nor would most people want to do anything about it. Which was
impossible, she thought. So when he answered that he would ‘find a way to help
the people of Arizona conserve water’ she knew he had taken a risk. But he was
right, and she wanted to support a candidate who would actually do something
and not give in to special interest groups. Whether that was entirely possible
she didn’t know. That was part of it. She wanted to find out if there were
people who cared, to get involved in a campaign, finally do something instead
just hitting a few buttons on election day.
She
called his campaign headquarters about volunteering and was encouraged to come
down one night where a group of about twenty people were stuffing envelopes,
putting together lawn signs and buttons, eating pizza and having a good time.
She helped fold newsletters and got to know some of them.
He
came in later and made the rounds talking to everybody, shaking hands and asking
about the new people. He had big hands, and shook hers firmly, smiling and
welcoming her, telling her he hoped she had a good time and not to keep
volunteering unless she did. He was dressed more casually than when she had
seen him before on tv, but still well, with a five o'clock shadow and slight
sunburn.
She
enjoyed the night, even though the work was menial. She supposed someone had to
do it. So two nights later she went in again and helped put up posters in the
office, then went with two other people to help put up posters around the city.
The
third night she went was more of a strategy session. The campaign manager
updated people on how things were going, with a tentative schedule of events in
the coming months. There were questions and comments, and he came in late from
his daughter's soccer game. She watched him, trying to see what he was really
like. If he was...she didn't know, if he really cared about people, or if this
was all a big joke to him. But no, it didn't seem to be. He seemed sincere,
listening to what people said and answering questions, explaining what he stood
for. There was a definite energy among the people and she liked that. At the
end, he encouraged people to write letters to the editor of the local papers as
a way of getting some exposure for the campaign.
That
night she went home and masturbated in the bath thinking about him, about how
the campaign might take its toll on his marriage and perhaps he would be
lonely, and she would be there for him...That was the first time.
The
next day at work, instead of writing copy for a telephone ad in the newspaper
she typed out a long letter explaining why she thought he was the best
candidate, concentrating on his thoughts on the water problem and why people
needed to start thinking about it, and doing something about it, saving the
letter and taking it home to reread.
She
went out to dinner with her sort-of boyfriend and they went back to her
apartment afterwards. He wanted to rent a porno but she said no and they
watched tv, then made love, but she kicked him out after that. She took another
long bath, and afterward reread the letter, marking out all the places in red
where she felt maybe she had been
too righteous. In the morning she put the letter in an envelope and dropped it
in the mailbox on her way to work.
That
night instead of going into headquarters she went to work a table outside a
football game with a few others. At first she just handed out flyers and let
the others do the talking, but then they asked, so she tried being one the
'info-people' for passers-by. She didn't like it, feeling stupid holding a
clipboard and smiling at people, though most were friendly and a few even
stopped to talk to her and she felt she at least maybe got a few people to
appreciate him.
Then
an older man approached her and started asking questions, which she tried to
answer politely. When he found out she was liberal, he suddenly pointed at her
and yelled, Babykiller!
The
other volunteers came to her rescue, but not before the man had told her she
was going to burn in hell.
The
volunteers tried to joke with her that she had got the weirdo of the night
award, which she appreciated, but when she got home she took a bath and cried,
remembering when she was seventeen...and thinking about not volunteering
anymore.
Her
letter got printed the next day, and the editors liked it so much they made it
a guest editorial set off from the other letters. At lunch with her coworkers
they started calling her The Idealist and teased her about bricks in toilets.
She
had almost decided not to volunteer again but thought to at least go into
headquarters and when she got there she got a round of applause. When he came
in, he invited her into his office alone and shook her hand and congratulated
her and thanked her for writing the letter. They talked a bit more and he asked
about her job and said that he had heard about what happened to her at the
football game and apologized. Then he asked her if she would help him with a
speech he was giving in two days.
He
outlined some of the ideas he wanted to touch on, who he was giving he speech
too, how long it should be, and asked her to come up with something for the
next night.
She
went home and took a bath and masturbated thinking of him. Then she called her
sort-of boyfriend and cancelled their plans for the next night. She looked at
his notes, his handwriting, in bed, then fell asleep.
At
work the next day she tried to take care of most of the stuff she had to do for
a cellphone ad and then during lunch made some notes and during the afternoon,
in between rewrites of the ad (amazing how many times a company could change
their minds), worked off and on on the speech thinking, finally, finally, my
english degree is paying off.
She
presented a hard copy and disk of the speech to him that night at headquarters
then waited with butterflies in her stomach while he went into his office and
read it. When he invited her in the pages were marked up in red, but he said he
liked it. His campaign manager and 'road manager' came in and the four of them
discussed the speech. Actually she just sat there and listened and then he
asked her to hop on a computer and change some things. Which she did, smiling.
She
took the afternoon off and joined a group of volunteers who went to listen to
him give the speech. It went well: He spoke clearly and she found out he had
even more charisma in front of a crowd than on tv. Afterwards she was invited
to dinner with everybody and they talked about his trip up to Flagstaff for the
weekend. He asked her if she would come up with them. She said yes, mentally
figuring out what she would have to cancel.
That
night there were two messages from her sort-of boyfriend. She called him back
and they argued slightly, and she told him she was going to be busy working for
the campaign and that she would call him when she got the time but that she
wasn't sure and was he ok with that? He wasn't really, but...that was it. And
then she took a long bath.
The
trip to Flag interesting: She sat in the back of the towncar and listened to
them talk and took notes that he and the campaign manager came up with for a
presentation to the unitarian church on sunday, changing it slightly to mention
god when they got a call confirming an invitation from the catholic church an
hour later.
Friday
night a fundraiser with local business people. She brought a black skirt to
change into at the hotel then at dinner found herself seated next to the
president of the local Sierra club chapter, a very funny woman dressed in old
jeans and boots.
But
his speech went well and there was much hand-shaking afterwards and she felt
proud when the Sierra club lady leaned over and said she really liked what he
had said.
The
dinner lasted late and he invited everyone out to a blues bar afterward. She
noticed he himself didn't drink but listened to, or tried to listen to, the
music when people weren't trying to talk to him, though he was polite. She
danced a couple times when men asked but she was too shy to ask him to.
They
all drove back to the hotel and he thanked each of them personally for their
work and joked with her that she might have to quit her job and join the
campaign fulltime. When they parked and all got out he stopped her, his hand
warm on her shoulder, and whispered, “Can you do something for me?”
She
said of course. He seemed embarrassed and pulled out a ten dollar bill. “Could
you...go over to the drugstore and buy...a pair of pantyhose for me?”
“Um,
sure....” She took the money, looking at it rather than him.
“Thank
you. It's just. I trust you, and I can't really do it myself because...of how
it would look if someone recognized me. And, you're a woman...”
She
bit her lower lip. “No, I can do it. Um, what kind?”
“Um,
whatever you think. Size Q.”
“Is
that...I mean, I think your wife is smaller than that.”
“Oh.
Sorry. They're not for my wife.”
She
looked blankly at him for a second and he smiled and put his hand on her
shoulder again and it was warm again and he said, “And don't tell anyone, ok?”
“Um,
no, I won't.”
“Good,
I knew I could count on you. I'll be in my room.”
He
turned and caught up with the others in the lobby. She stood there a second,
then crossed the street to the RiteAid at the end of a strip mall. At the
hosiery section she realized he had a mistress and her shoulders slouched. Then
she thought, no, why didn't the mistress buy them herself unless...unless it
was his way of telling her he had a mistress? Maybe he wanted her to be their
confidential liason? Or maybe he wanted her to do something with the both of
them?
She
couldn't really decide, so just picked some tan pantyhose that she would have
worn herself, but size Q. On impulse she bought a six pack of Pepsi and brought
everything back to the hotel. She went up to his room and knocked. He opened
the door and she could hear men's voices, the managers, behind him. He looked
embarrassed again and lowered his voice. “Hey....”
She
lowered her voice too: “I got what you wanted. Here.” She handed him the
pantyhose in a plastic bag. He took the bag quickly and stuffed it in his suit
pocket. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.” Then in a louder voice she said
she bought the Pepsi he wanted and he saw his face change to relief. He invited
her in and whispered to her that she was awesome.
They
stayed a while talking strategy. The campaign manager got a call earlier about
appearing in Prescott for a small fundraiser. She was asked if she could make
that, which she could as long as they came back to Phoenix that night or early
the next morning.
After
she got back to her hotel room, she called her sister in Los Angeles to ask her
advice. She told her about him, what he was doing, how attractive he was, then
about what her sister began to call 'the pantyhose incident' and asked, “So,
like, do you think he has a mistress?”
“I
don't know, it doesn't sound like it, It sounds kind of perverted. Like, it was
obviously sexual.”
“I
know. I can't figure it out.”
“I
hate to say it but...maybe he's gay.”
“See.
I was hoping you wouldn't say that. Do you think-”
“That
he's wearing them?”
“I
mean-”
“Oh
damn. Dammit. Usually my gaydar is pretty good.”
“Well,
the married ones really hide it well. They have to.”
“Oh
damn. He's really attractive too.”
“You
said that already. You also said he's married,”
“I
know....”
“And
he's running for governor. You think he's going to divorce his wife and marry
his speech writer?”
“I
don't want to marry him. Yet.”
“But
he's gay.”
“But
he's gay...I guess.”
She
took a bath and had a fantasy about him again, interrupted occasionally by wondering
whether he was really gay or not and also by the idea of him with a mistress.
She finally got to bed late.
Saturday
busy, but fun since the campaign manager was getting a cold so she got
volunteered to do the speech introductions, which she thought she did alright
on and he complimented her on them afterwards. They were all invited to take a
tour of Walnut Canyon Park where some reporters came out for a photo op. He was
still the same charismatic man and she couldn't help looking, trying to find some
clue...and ending up feeling, though disappointed, honored that he would trust
her and if he really was gay, well, then
fine, his sexuality had nothing to do with whether he was the best candidate
for the job.
He
made his church appearances on Sunday, with the unitarians being a little
disappointed with him leaving so soon. He was impressed with their questions
and told his campaign manager to make a note to come back and visit them again
and to try and get in touch with other unitarian churches. The catholics were
friendly and baked good cookies.
They
drove to Prescott for the fundraiser dinner and ended up staying late and
deciding to go to Phoenix in the morning. At the hotel he took her aside in the
lobby when they were getting rooms and asked her again if she would buy him a
pair of pantyhose. She had to stay behind and ask at the desk if there was
anything open 24 hours in Prescott and then had to call the campaign manager to
get the keys to the car to drive to the Wal-Mart outside town. She thought
maybe he hadn't liked the color of the other pair so she bought black ones.
Back
at the hotel she knocked on his door and he took a second to get there, then
peeked out and smiled and said he had almost given up on her and thanked her.
She asked if black was ok and he said black was fine and thanked her again and
said she looked very beautiful.
She
hesitated, then thanked him, and he hesitated, then said goodnight. She said
goodnight and went back to her room and thought about calling her sister to ask
what she thought about him saying she was beautiful, but then fell asleep.
They
got up early and made it back in time for her to drive to work and get there on
time, though a little bit exhausted. The next two nights she didn't go into the
headquarters but did do a little forwarding of emails to people on their list.
Wednesday night she went to a mexican movie showing at the art theatre in
Scotsdale and tried not to read the subtitles and see if she could understand
everything, and sort of could, and afterwards went into the mall to go to the
Brentano's bookstore that she liked a lot and look around. On the way she
passed the Victoria's Secret store and went in because there was a sale on
panties and she needed some more. She smiled when she saw the pantyhose section
and bought a pair of sheer black ones she liked. When she got back home she got
online and wrote him an email saying she had a present for him. After she
clicked send there was a moment when she thought, maybe I shouldn't have done
that. But the next morning at work she checked her messages and he wrote back
saying if it was what he thought it was she had just earned a high-ranking post
after he won the election. She wrote back saying that she would be content to
be his speech writer when he ran for president.
Thursday
she went into headquarters and worked on the campaign newsletter all night and
hardly got a chance to talk to him, but did slip into his office when nobody
was there and put the pantyhose in the pink Victoria's Secret bag into his
briefcase.
On
friday there was a party in Scotsdale in one of the big houses on the side of
Camelback Mountain. She wore her fanciest black dress and practiced walking in
high heels before so she didn't fall on her face when she got there, she hoped.
She went with a guy from the campaign who wanted to fuck her, not that he was a
bad guy, but she managed to unload him onto another woman from the campaign
early in the night. There were lots of people and she even spoke briefly with a
singer from a heavy metal band called Megadeth and his wife and flirted a
little with a man (married) from Guanajuato Mexico.
He
showed up late with his wife and she felt herself get jealous slightly, though
she told herself she shouldn't be. He introduced them and his wife said, “Oh
yes, he's told me about you.” Which she thought was odd.
Later
on she stepped out on the balcony that looked out over the city and watched the
car lights on the streets. He wife came out and asked if she could join her.
Thinking to herself, oh shit, she said of course.
Without
looking at her, his wife said, “I just wanted to talk personally with you. He
likes you a lot and everybody likes how you've helped with the campaign...it's
just that I know he's not very good at...communicating.” She took a sip of
wine. “He trusts you, so I will too. Just...be discrete.” Then she walked away.
She
left the party soon after without saying goodbye to anyone. When she got home
she got online and wrote him an email titled 'what the fuck?' and told him what
his wife had said and asked him what exactly he wanted, was he gay or did he
want a mistress or what? Then she called her sister and told her everything.
Her
sister sighed. “You bought him Victoria’s Secret pantyhose?”
“Well
yeah, I thought he would like them. I mean, even if he's gay I still like him.”
“But,
he's kind of your boss.”
“I
know, but if he doesn't want sex then I thought I could at least make him
happy.”
“I
don't know...with his wife...something's going on.”
“She
knows.”
“Yeah.
It doesn't sound like she was necessarily happy with what he's doing. I say run
away now.”
“But
if he's not happy in his marriage? I mean, maybe...
“Maybe
this whole thing could turn into a mess. But then, you never listen to me.
You're going to keep doing something, I can tell. So, what?”
“I
don't know....”
The
next morning busy at work but in the afternoon she checked her messages and he
had written her a long email telling her she was very attractive, he was not
gay, at least not really (what did that mean?) and apologized for his wife. He
asked her to go to Tucson with the crew the next day and spend the night and
they could talk in the hotel room.
Talk?
What did that mean? But she accepted and got the afternoon off though her boss
was starting to get annoyed and asked her if the 'governor' was paying her
more.
She
waited in her hotel room, late, almost falling asleep, before he called. His
voice nervous, asking her to come up to his room.
He
had left the door ajar so she didn't have to knock. She came in and closed it
behind her. She noticed her hands trembling. The lights off except for a small
one in the corner.
He
was lying on the bed wearing the Victoria's Secret pantyhose she had bought
him. His legs shaved. His cock hard and bulging out against the tight material.
He
said hello and thanked her for coming. And that she was beautiful.
She said thank you
and couldn't stop staring. He asked if it bothered her seeing him like that.
She said no. He asked her to strip down to her underwear and pantyhose and let him
touch himself while he looked at her.
She
paused. “That's it?”
“Yes.
Please.”
She
hesitated, then unbuttoned her blouse and took it off, watching as he reached
into the pantyhose and started to masturbate. She unzipped her skirt and
stepped out of it and stood there, hugging herself.
He
asked her to pose for him. She didn't know what that really meant so she didn't
do anything. He told her to tell him to jerk off for her.
She
looked at him. The next governor of Arizona touching himself wearing Victoria's
Secret pantyhose. “Jerk off for me.”
He
increased his speed and kept looking at her body. Then he said, “Call me a
slut.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
She
licked her lips. “You're a slut.”
He
closed his eyes and tensed. “Yes....”
“Slut.”
His
sperm shot out onto his stomach and he relaxed. “Oh god yes...”
She
stood there watching him. He finally opened his eyes and looked at her. “Thank
you.”
She
put her clothes back on. As she was buttoning up her blouse he said, “I hope
that wasn't too weird.”
She
shook her head. “Uh, no. Of course not.”
“Did
I make you uncomfortable?”
“Um...Maybe
a little.”
“Damn.
I'm sorry. It was wonderful. Would you like me to lick your pussy?”
“Uh
no, that's ok.”
“You
didn't like this.”
“It...wasn't
what I expected.”
“Do
you think...I mean, would you let me do it again?”
“I
guess. Maybe.”
He
got up and put his hand on her shoulder and thanked her again. She looked down
at the sperm on his pantyhose where his cock was still leaking. She said
goodnight and left.
She
went back to her room and took a long shower and cried. She almost called her
sister but didn't and fell asleep.
In
the morning she got up early and rented a car and drove back to Phoenix and
went to work. He sent her an email apologizing, which she didn't answer. He
sent another one and she wrote back saying she needed to think about things and
she would call him.
She
didn't volunteer anymore, telling the people from the campaign who called that
she was too busy at work. He wrote her another email apologizing again and
asking her to come back and work for him, that he wouldn't bother her again.
But, he said, if she didn't come back he would understand, and he asked her not
to tell anyone, and that he trusted her. She didn't answer it.
And
in the end, she still voted for him.
