Hot August Night

Hot August Night

By

Jamey O’Donnell

July rudely came and went like an uninvited stranger homesteading on your land, never announcing himself or saying hello, and leaving unexpectedly just as you were getting use to him being around, deciding you and your life were not worth a good goddamn.

It had been hot as hell that summer, and August promised no respite from the oppressive heat, making everyone wish for a torrential rain to cool things down.

Newt Griffin was the quintessential Kansas politician and knew how to navigate through the babies needing kissed and their mothers expecting his standard overflowing compliment on their peach cobbler, and through the years he did more than his fair share of ham-handed handshaking with the farmers and feed store operators across the state.

He was a statesman and took pride in knowing what was on the minds of his constituency, and more so, how to remedy what ailed them. He had served Kansas well for 4 consecutive terms as their U.S. Senator, hailing from Atchison, and originally serving 3 terms as congressman for Kansas’s 2nd congressional district, including Topeka.

Times were different now though, and the taste of the citizens of Kansas had changed rapidly in the last 6 years.

Covid had done a number on the psyche of America, and Kansas was no different.

People were not so apt to let you plant a big ol’ kiss on their baby’s cheek anymore, nor were they ready and willing to shake your hand as they once were. Masks were the determining factor this time around, sealing off the personal interactions made with people accompanied by a smile.

Though Kansas has always been known as a conservative state, you had both the University of Kansas and Kansas State colleges just outside of his congressional district, both colleges being as liberal as liberal could be, gradually gravitating the state to become closer to purple than red as time had gone on, and this was an election year, so it mattered now more than ever before.

Newt was neck and neck in a hotly contested primary race for his Senate seat with an upstart lawyer out of Kansas City, Carla Mulholland. Newt was an old school politician smack dab in a brave new world that seemed to be changing faster than he could keep up.

His opponent was not only more moderate than he was, she was also transgender.

This would be to no one’s surprise during the general election in November if she were a Democrat, but they were still in the deciding phase to see which candidate would represent the Republican Party, so his adversary was Republican like him.

To see a Republican candidate that was also transgender felt like the playing field wasn’t level, especially one that was as popular as she was.

Carl Mulholland was a very well known and popular civil rights attorney in K.C. for many years, serving both sides of the Missouri River, and all knew him as a gay man enjoying a gay lifestyle.

In a very public transition, Carl had decided to make the world known to his sexual identity crisis and announced he would be living his life as woman from that day forward, complete with hormone therapy, breast augmentation, and eventually sex reassignment surgery.

All throughout the process he detailed his every step from becoming a man to a woman, and before the eyes of Kansas and Missouri both, Carl Mulholland became Carla Mulholland, a rock star civil rights attorney everyone wanted a piece of, to be seen with, and be closer to.

Newt didn’t know how to fight this fight but learned the best he could along the way.

Throughout the spring and summer, the two had done numerous debates all across the state, discussing world affairs, farm initiatives, social constructs, and the world and local economy.

The new breed of Republicans was more interested in debating the social aspect of Mulholland’s campaign, where Newt Griffin preferred the tried-and-true issues of the economy and world affairs, focal points he had relied on all through his Representative and Senate years.

Whereas Mulholland did much better than expected in Newt’s wheelhouse, Newt did not return the favor when it came to discussing societal issues, such as abortion, civil rights, and namely transgender rights, leaving him wanting after a couple televised debates especially, and according to the polls, Mulholland had begun to wear away Newt’s once sizable lead in June, down to a neck and neck scenario by August.

It became clear to anyone watching that Newt Griffin was a man that time had left behind, and the push was on to unseat him in the Republican Party with a fresher face in Carla Mulholland, a new woman of the ages that could compete against anyone the Democrat Party could put against them.

Newt understood what was happening, and it would be left to the Kansas constituents to revive and elevate him past the Primary, then on to the General Election in November.

The polls had opened at 7 AM that morning, and all throughout the day, voters had lined up at their local precincts to cast their ballot for the candidate of their choice.

All polling in the last 2 weeks had the two candidates too close to call, so it was anyone’s guess who would come out on top to represent the Republican Party in November.

The Mulholland Campaign was having their reception at the Kansas City, Kansas Convention Center and Newt’s reception was being held at the Capital Plaza Hotel and Convention Center in Topeka, where he was pulling up to make his way to a suite he had reserved to watch the returns before making his entrance into the convention center.

“Hello Sir! Ready for your big night?” asked his campaign manager, Ruth Navarro, as she met him in the hotel lobby.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Newt replied, nervously awaiting the elevator to take him to the top floor.

“I have something for your lapel” Ruth said, then she approached Newt with a freshly picked marigold flower, sticking it in his lapel far enough to survive the evening and not fall out.

“There. Makes you look like the winner that you are!” she said.

The elevator doors opened and the entourage entered to be elevated to Senator Griffin’s suite, with Ruth whispering in Newt’s ear about the latest exit polling in the different precincts around the state.

It was 6:45 and the polls would be closing in 15 minutes, giving Newt enough time to freshen up and have a couple gin and tonic’s before relaxing on the couch to watch the returns.

He had a sinking feeling that this would be his last hurrah, that the state of Kansas had changed enough to where he could lose to an inexperienced transgender politician, even in his conservative party within his once solidly conservative state.

In the back of his mind, he was already making contingency plans for his timelined exit out of office and back into the real world. It had been many moons since he had been Citizen Griffin, as opposed to Senator Griffin.

His first priority would be to pressure down and learn to assimilate back into private life, maybe take a long fishing trip in the Rocky Mountains or settle back into his ranch outside of Topeka. Eventually he would go back into private practice as a corporate attorney and start making real money again.

Many of his senate colleagues had gone to D.C. poor and left there wealthy, cutting deals with corporate bigwigs to enact and vote for favorable legislation, stuffing their bank accounts with untold fortunes, but not Newt.

Newt Griffin was as solid as they came, and never once blurred the lines between what he was sent there to do and what he could do for himself. He understood his role in government, and never lost sight of the fact that he was there to do the will of the people as their servant.

Being as ultra conservative as he was, he polarized not only Democrats from himself, but even more moderate Republicans, making him at times a man without a country, a lone traveler through the halls of congress readying himself for his next fight, preparing himself to go to battle with anyone coveting an anti-American agenda, whether overt or covert.

After settling in with his second gin and tonic, he relaxed back into the comfy couch and turned on the big screen television just as Fox News was delivering their first poll numbers for Kansas, giving Mulholland a 60/40 lead after returns coming in from the Wichita precincts, which was to be expected.

Wichita is one of the larger metropolitan areas of Kansas, where a moderate Republican would fare better than a conservative. He expected to do best in districts like his, where more farmers, corporations, and church going folk resided. There would be no way a church going family would support a transgender Senator, no matter how conservative the candidate was.

Newt’s wife Audrey, sitting next to Newt on the couch, had become accustomed to these late-night soirees, as she had done quite a few of them over the past 20 or so years, most of which had been uneventful, with Newt running away with virtually every contest since they began, but tonight was different. She would never let on to anyone, but she was more nervous than a long tail cat in a room full of rocking chairs. She knew how the political winds were blowing just like the next gal, and she too was preparing for a more than likely return to private life.

Whatever happens tonight, she thought to herself, their lives would go on and they would enjoy whatever life has in store for them. They still had each other, and everything else in their lives only complimented that.

It was now 9:00 and Newt Griffin was in uncharted territory. In every other contest he had been in, the race had already been called by this time in his favor, but here he was in a 50.8/49.2 logger jam with his opponent leading, just after the Kansas City area returns had been announced. The good news was Topeka and many of the surrounding areas in the state had not yet been announced, leaving the contest winner to be anyone’s guess.

The live news feed from the Mulholland campaign headquarters showed a jubilant crowd that believed they had the contest in the bag, filled to the rafters with her supporters, and a noticeable transgender constituent. Lots of Democrats had switched parties just before the primary in order to vote for Mulholland, many of which were transgender themselves.

The Griffin campaign headquarters were holding their own, biting their nails in hot breath anticipation.

Just after 9:30, the Topeka returns came in and they were staggering.

The lead for the Senate seat had just overturned, with Griffin now holding a 51.2/48.8 lead, sending the Topeka ballroom into an uproar of joy as they begun to celebrate their first lead of the night.

Newt was still reticent to begin celebrating just yet, but his heart was now racing where it wasn’t before.

Then it was announced.

The United States Senate race in Kansas was now being called for Newt Griffin!!!

Newt Griffin had just won re-election as Senator in the state of Kansas, and almost immediately, the phone rang.

It was Carla Mulholland, calling Senator Griffin to concede the race, and after a few words and a thank you from Newt, he hung up the phone and kissed his wife Audrey.

The old war horse was not finished yet, and he would continue to serve the Kansas populace another 6 years.

It was closer than he ever wanted it to be, but he also understood the finite nature of his standing in politics in today’s new world.

This would be his last campaign and he would be able to go out on his terms.

He looked down at his lapel and winked at his old school marigold flower, flying high and straight, making him look like the winner that he was.