Wendell knew what he was up to. “Hamm, there’s no way in hell they are going to let you succeed yourself; it’s a state law.”
“But laws have been changed, haven’t they?”
“Yeah, but you ain’t gonna change this one. The Republicans won’t vote for it and Earl is determined to bring in Carnie Boofer, so why don’t you just relax and take it easy for the next four years. Then all you have to do is come back in and clean up the mess old Boofer makes. In the meantime, just sit on your boat, take a few trips, and enjoy yourself, boy.”
Hamm had been offered jobs through Vita’s friends but nothing that excited him. The next time he was at her apartment they sat on the couch and he tried to tell her what he was feeling. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offers, Vita, I do. I don’t know how I’ll be able to stand just being a nobody again. I’m gonna miss being out of that limelight now that I’m used to it.”
“But, darling, you can run again in sixty-eight . . . it’s only four years.”
He looked at her almost desperately. “Vita, I don’t think I can wait that long. I don’t know how to explain it but it seems like I’ve been freezing all my life and it’s the only place I feel warm, really warm. The thing is, once it gets ahold of you, you can’t let go even if you wanted to. It’s too late. Once you’ve been up there, there’s nowhere else to go but down. That’s where you live, the only place you feel alive, and you’ve got to fight to hold on. And what if I can’t get back in? What if Carnie Boofer messes up so bad that the next time they elect a Republican? People forget about you once you’re out of power. The truth is, Vita . . . I’m scared to let go.”
A Drowning Man Is a Dangerous Man
HAMM WAS BACK in Jefferson City, sitting in his office having a few drinks with the guys, when Hamm Jr. ran in and asked for more quarters to put in the pinball machine in the basement and ran back out. When he left Hamm asked Wendell, “What’s the age limit on running for governor?”
“Why?”
“If Hamm Junior was old enough, I’d run him.”
Wendell grinned. “Damn, boy, next you’ll be trying to run your wife.”
Seymour Gravel said, “Yeah, Hamm, or how about your dog. He’s pretty smart, a hell of a lot smarter than Carnie Boofer.”
“But then who ain’t?” Rodney added.
They all laughed except Hamm, who sat with a glazed expression, staring into space. Then he looked at Wendell. “Why not?”
“Why not what?”
“Run my wife.”
“Oh, hell, Hamm, I was just kidding.”
“Is there a law against it?”
“No, but you can’t do that.”
“Why not? Tell me one good reason. It would be almost the same as voting for me, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, but nobody is gonna vote for a woman even if she is your wife.”
“Why not?”
Now Seymour asked Wendelclass="underline" “Yeah, why not?”
An hour later, after going back and forth in a heated debate over why not, Hamm said, “Excuse me a minute, will you, boys?” and went in the other room to make a call.
Vita had invited people over for dinner and they were still in the living room having after-dinner drinks but her maid Bridget came in and said, “Mrs. Green, the archbishop is on the phone and said he needs to speak to you right away.” Vita excused herself and took Hamm’s call in her bedroom. When she heard what he was thinking she threw her head back and laughed with delight at his crazy idea. But he was more excited and enthusiastic about this than he had been about anything lately and was talking a mile a minute.
“Listen, Vita, it would be the same thing as me buying a house and putting it in somebody else’s name. Wouldn’t it? It would still be mine. I’d still be the governor . . . it would just be in a different name, that’s all. . . . So what do you think?”
She was still laughing so hard she could not answer.
“I’m not joking, I’m serious.”
“I know you are, Hamm.”
“What do you think?”
“Well,” she said, “it’s a completely insane idea . . . but it would almost be worth it just to see the look on Earl’s face when you announced it.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “Oh God, you’ve made me laugh so hard I’ve ruined my makeup.”
“So, Vita—should I do it?”
“Why not,” she said. “Go ahead and try. What do you have to lose? If nothing else, it will be fun to watch.”
He came back into the office, sat down, and said, “I think we should do it.”
After he got everyone to agree, Hamm pushed a button on the phone and said in a syrupy voice, “Betty Raye, could you come down here for a minute?”
They heard her answer over the speakerphone: “Hamm, I’m already in my nightgown.”
“That’s alright, honey, put your robe on and come on down the back stairs. I need to talk to you.”
Rodney looked grim. “She ain’t gonna go along with this, I can tell you that.”
Hamm said, “Yes, she will. But now, you boys have got to help me out here, make her see how it’s our only chance.”
Betty Raye could not imagine what Hamm wanted with her at this hour or what he wanted, period, but she put on her robe and, wearing the big fuzzy pink bunny slippers that Ferris, her youngest boy, had given her for Christmas, went down the back stairs. When she opened the door she was startled to see a room full of men. She clutched at the neck of her robe. “Oh, I didn’t know you had people here.”
“That’s all right, come on in, Betty Raye, and have a seat,” said the spider to the fly.
As she reluctantly walked in she became even more uncomfortable. All the men in the room turned and stared at her as if they had never seen her before, including her husband.
“Is anything wrong?” she asked.
“No, not a thing, sweetheart. The boys and I just want to talk to you about a little something.”
An hour later they were upstairs in the bedroom and Betty Raye was crying. “How could you do this? You gave me your word that this was the last time. Just four more years, you said.”
“I know I did, honey, but you heard what the boys said. I’ve got to finish what I started. If I don’t, Earl Finley will undo everything I did and those roads will never get built. I owe it to the folks that voted for me . . . and you running for me is our only chance, our only hope.”
“Oh, but Hamm, the whole thing is ridiculous. I don’t know anything about politics much less how to be a governor.”
“You don’t have to know anything. You wouldn’t really be the governor, you’d just be standing in for me.”
She went over to the dresser to get another Kleenex. “And that’s another thing. I’m the mother of two children. I don’t want to be involved in some scam, something that’s illegal.”
“But it is legal. Wendell told you it was.”
“Maybe so. But it’s totally dishonest. To pretend to be the governor when I’m not. What will people think?”
“Honey, it’s not dishonest. People will know they’re voting for me. And people will thank you. You know how high my ratings are. They would vote for me anyway if it were not for that stupid law. You’re doing everybody a favor. Wendell told you that.”
“Well then, why doesn’t Wendell run?”
“Because. Honey—”
“I’ll tell you why. Because everybody knows he’s got good sense and I’m just an idiot you can push around. That’s why.”
“Oh now, Betty—”
“And what about my house? I’ve waited eight years . . . and you promised me, just four more years, you said.”