How Not to Run for President (18 page)

The next morning, I was back at home, watching TV with my brother. Everything was the same as it had been a week ago—except this time, Emma was sitting at the kitchen table with us. Plus, we no longer had cable.

Mom kept rushing around nervously, putting different snacks on the table in front of Emma. I could have told her not to bother, that Emma wouldn't eat anything she didn't know was peanut-free.
I
didn't have a special diet, though. I devoured five of Mom's special chocolate-chip pancakes in about a minute.

Emma sipped from a glass of lemonade and fanned herself with a section from the
Fairstone Free Record
, our town newspaper. It was all over the news that Senator Flynn's campaign had planted the story about my mom being a spy; as it turned out, there wasn't even a company
named
Cold rainbow in China. Now he was the one defending himself on
Wake Up, America!
, saying he had nothing to do with the fake story.

Candace McKnight was grilling him and he was sputtering.
Thanks, Candace
, I thought, as if we were old friends, because we kind of were.

Also, just because the news station cameras hadn't captured my fight with T.J., that didn't mean it wasn't on TV. A couple of Christopher's friends had recorded it on cell phones and already posted them to YouTube, and the TV stations had captured those already. We were waiting to watch a brief press conference the governor was giving down at the town hall. She'd insisted it was okay if Emma and I stayed away this time. Personally, I think she was afraid I'd somehow knock her down again.

“Dude. Since when can you swing a bat like that?” Christopher asked me.

“It wasn't a bat; it was my clarinet,” I said.

“Same thing. You nailed him.” Christopher laughed.

“Maybe you should bat with your clarinet instead of a wooden bat from now on,” said Emma. “You could be in the Little Musical League or something.”

“Ha-ha,” I said in a deadpan tone while Christopher cracked up.

“Good one,” he said, still laughing. “Hey, at least this is a way better video to go viral than the one of you tackling the governor and getting frisked. In this one you actually look cool.”

“You think so? Thanks,” I said. His compliment meant a lot to me, more than I wanted to admit.

“Of course, that T.J. did nearly punch your lights out,” Emma said, “until I came along.”

“
You?
What did you do?” I asked. Was that typical or what? Emma trying to get all the credit when she hadn't even really been there until the end.

“He was about to flatten you. You would have been part of the parking lot if I hadn't come along,” Emma said.

“You? It wasn't you; it was the general,” I said.

But she and Christopher started laughing while my mom tried to hide the fact she was snickering, too, by biting her lip and turning to face the fridge.

“Okay, fine. Next time I won't try to save you from the class bully. See if I care,” I said.

“Is there going to be a next time?” Emma asked. “I thought you were leaving the campaign. Isn't that why we came back here in the first place?”

“I guess I am,” I said. I was glad to be home, but at the same time, I'd miss the excitement of being on the road and getting quoted right and left.

“You sure you don't want anything?” my mom asked, rearranging the plates of fruit, pancakes, and bacon in front of Emma.

“No, thanks,” said Emma. “I'm going to wait for my mom and see if we can go out to a real restaurant for brunch.”

Then again, some things about being on Governor Brandon's campaign I wouldn't miss, like Emma's snobby side.

She looked at me and coughed. “I mean, uh, actually that was something my mom said, that we'd go out later. I don't think I can wait that long, though. The fruit salad looks too good. I think I'll take some yogurt, too.”

While my mom happily got her a bowl and spoon, my dad came home. After saying hi to Emma, he grabbed a plate and filled it with breakfast. He leaned against the counter beside Mom and watched the TV, because the governor had started her press conference, which she was holding outside the Fairstone town hall. She greeted the reporters and other guests, then looked right into the camera.

“This morning, I'm back in Fairstone, Ohio. I've been visiting with the people,” Governor Brandon said. “I've been listening to what they have to say. I've also listened to my closest advisers. My husband. My children. My own intuition. But most of all, I've listened to you, the American public. Overwhelmingly, everyone's told me the same thing. I don't have to go far to find the best vice president for the job. He's right here in Fairstone with me.”

I went weak in the knees.

“You?” Mom gasped.

“And so, without further ado, I'd like to announce my running mate for the November election.” The governor smiled. “General Roy McGarvin, US Army, retired.” She turned to the general and held out her hand.

“What? Wait. You knew?” I asked Emma as I watched the general come to the mike and shake the governor's hand. They raised both hands together in a show of unity. Then, together, they started fielding questions from the press corps.

“They're totally going to win now, after what Flynn pulled,” Dad said. “Don't you think? I can't believe I was going to vote for that guy.”

Emma smiled. “Yeah. She just might.”

Mom applauded. “What a smart choice. Oh, it's on,” she said. “It's so on. After what Flynn did to us? Flynn's going down. Then we just have to focus on beating Mathias. I have to post this on Facebook right away!” She started tapping her phone's keys.

“Well?” I asked Emma. “Are you okay with this?”

“Definitely. As long as my mom listens to
me
next,” she said, reaching for a glass of orange juice.

About an hour later, the governor, the general, and the Haircut stopped by the house for Emma. Kristen had been dismissed for losing track of Emma, which was too bad. It meant that another person would have to try to look after Emma and keep her safe from now on. Besides the Secret Service, that is.

“Wow. This is something I thought I'd never see,” Dad said as he opened the door to let them inside, past the usual clutter of reporters on our lawn. “A retired army general like you, playing second fiddle to a woman? Can you handle that?” he asked.

“It's hardly second fiddle,” the governor answered him. “I think of us as a team. Coworkers. The same way I'd want someone to consider me, if I were the vice president.”

“Exactly.” The general took a sip from the cup of coffee Mom had set in front of him. “I look at it this way. It's time for fresh ideas. If we don't try something new on the national level, how can we say we're a third party with fresh ideas?”

“Good point,” Dad agreed, nodding.

“What next? Don't tell me, you're going to be secretary of state,” I said to Stu.

“You never know.” Stu picked up a strip of bacon and crunched it in his mouth.

“No, he's going to be secretary of haircuts. His first assignment will be you.” The general smiled at me.

“This is a great breakfast, Tricia,” Stu said. “Thank you very much.”

“Yes, thanks. I have to admit I didn't eat much at the hotel,” the governor said.

“Please, Governor Brandon, sit,” my mom said to her, pulling back a chair at the kitchen table. “Fill up a plate and enjoy.”

“Call me Bettina. And before I sit down, I have to tell you that we're extremely sorry,” the governor said to my mom and dad. “Maybe it was naive of us, but we had no idea the campaign could get that ugly. We went back to meet with the CEO of FreezeStar, and he's assured us there are no problems with hiring you back, Tricia, once the economy picks up.”

“Well, right, that's the key part,” Mom said.

“But an interesting thing happened when we were sitting in his office. Some good news came in,” the governor said, sliding onto the chair.

“Oh?” asked Dad. “really?” He sat beside her.

“Orders are up. It's the publicity over the weekend. Everyone wants a union-made, U.S.-manufactured product,” the general said.

“See, when you put pressure in just the right places, sometimes good things happen.” The governor smiled, and so did my mom, who looked happier than she had in weeks. “This isn't a permanent solution to the issue. We know that. We'll keep working on it, and we'll keep listening.”

“That's great,” my mom said. “I know everyone here will really appreciate it.”

“Well, so much of it is thanks to your son,” said the governor. “In fact, I don't really know how to thank you, Aidan. You've given so much to us these past few days. You brought a spark to the campaign—”

“Yeah, and it almost went up in flames,” I said.

She laughed. “Nothing my team can't handle. right, General?”

“Definitely,” said the general. “But at the same time, if you can help us deliver the state of Ohio, we'll be even more grateful.”

“About those Yankee tickets,” I said. “It's not a big deal. I mean, I want to go, but I can wait. If you guys need the money for bumper stickers or whatever, that's okay.”

“We'll get you the tickets,” said the general, “but thanks. And if we win in November—”

“
When
we win,” the governor interrupted.

“Right.
When
we win, we'll invite you to the inauguration, too. You and Emma can find more reasons to worry me to death,” he said.

“Sounds good to me,” said Emma, and we both laughed.

The governor turned to her daughter next. “And speaking of pressure, I know Aidan's leaving us here.” She looked into Emma's eyes. “I have a pretty good feeling he's not the only one who wants to. You've had more than enough of the campaign trail, too, haven't you, Emma?”

Emma glanced from one side of the room to the other, avoiding her mother's gaze. “I have a confession to make,” she said. “Mom, I might have done a few things to try to mess things up for you. I didn't want you to become president. But now, I do. So I'm sorry. But I do really want to go home. I mean, maybe I do still need to change my image, and I'll try really hard to use good manners and do everything right—I promise, Mom. But can I do it from home for a while? Maybe William could take my place.”

“Can I be honest?” the governor asked. “It wasn't half as much about wanting to change you—that came from other people—as it was about missing you. The last year's been a killer, being away from home so much. I just wanted to hang out. But we hardly ever have time even to do that.”

“Mom, we can find time to spend together. I'd just rather it's not on camera,” said Emma. “So I'll stay out of the way, except for when you need me. Then I'll be there for you.”

“That's good enough for me. And you don't have to change. For me, or anyone. Not even for
him.
” The governor gestured over her shoulder at the general. “Just be yourself.”

“I don't know. Aidan was himself, and look how well that went,” said Emma.

“Shut up,” I said.

“Let's go outside and play catch,” she said. “They're only going to talk more politics.”

We went outside into the front yard. Simon was leaning against my dad's truck, tossing a baseball into the air and catching it in his glove. “Thought you guys would never come out,” he said.

“Tell me about it,” I said. I grabbed my glove from the front steps, and tossed Emma's glove to her. “Let's play ball!”

Would you like to spend your summer traveling with a presidential campaign and being a spokesperson for your town? Would you like to represent kids' issues in Washington, D.C.? How about running for vice president, or president?

You can probably do a lot of these things, but not until you're old enough to (a) leave home, (b) drive, and (c) vote. You'll have to finish high school first. And college. And get a job doing something that interests you.

Under the terms of the United States Constitution, anyone who wants to become the president must be a United States citizen and at least thirty-five years old. Also, a president must be a natural-born citizen, meaning that immigrants are not eligible to run for president, no matter how long they have lived in the United States. In addition, a presidential candidate must have actually lived in the United States for at least fourteen years.

So, it may be a ways off in your future, but in the meantime, you can still get involved. Look for volunteer opportunities in your community, or become a leader of your sports team, or help organize a school or family trip to the Capitol, or run for class president!

Check out
www.kids.gov
and
www.whitehouse.gov/about/white-house-101
to learn more about the U.S. government, and how it works. Interested in memorizing the names of U.S. presidents through history the way Aidan has? For an up-to-the-minute list of the presidents, visit:
www.whitehouse.gov/about/presidents
. The White House has an amazingly interesting site, packed with well-known and little-known facts. There's even an interactive tour of the White House! (In case Emma ever wants to really check it out.)

Lastly, I'd like to explain why I chose to write about a woman running for president—and one who is well on her way to winning the election. In the second presidential election I got to vote in, there was a woman on the ballot, Geraldine Ferraro. She was running for vice president, sharing the ticket with Walter “Fritz” Mondale, from Minnesota, for president. They lost to Ronald Reagan (#40) and George H. W. Bush, and for a long time it felt like the concept of a woman being on the ballot in November lost, too.

I kind of thought that every election cycle after that would include a woman on the ballot. Nope. It was another twenty-four years until Sarah Palin was chosen to run as vice president with John McCain. They also lost.

I didn't want to wait twenty-four years again, so I decided to make it happen. I also gave Governor Brandon the power to keep the Ford assembly plant in St. Paul, Minnesota, open, because I didn't want it to close. (As of this writing it is scheduled to close within the year.)

See, in my dreamworld, women get to be presidents, the same as men; kids can run for vice president, and no one who wants to work is ever out of a job.

What else should we dream about, while we're at it? A .400 batting average and a lifetime supply of Lime Brains candy?

Follow
your
dreams!