The Voting Machine

A Bad Position

After David's speech, my first voter registration assignment was a three-hour shift in a strip mall by Rainbow Avenue and Spring Mountain Road. Annabelle acted as a driver for many of the volunteers when she wasn't visiting the Sunflower clinics. She gave me a ride from the office to my destination.

"Remember when you're asking them to register, don't start them off with a yes/no question," she said as we drove. "Don't give them that option to shut you down right away. Ask them something like 'When was the last time you moved?' or 'Have you voted at your current address?' Then you can lead into all the great things that our candidate will do once he's elected."

She pulled into the strip mall parking lot. I grabbed my water bottle and the stack of registration forms and voter cards from the back seat.

"Remember," she said, "keep an eye on the signed registration forms. The Founding Fathers send thugs around to steal the forms so they can throw out every registered Democrat."

"I know all this," I said. "David went over it in the training."

Annabelle was quiet. Neither one of us knew how to talk about our feelings. She seemed sad when we were alone.

"I am sorry if I did the wrong thing."

"We both did the wrong thing. You're married. You just got out of jail. I am your legal guardian under the terms of your sentence. I could get in a lot of trouble if the court found out."

"Nobody's going to find out. You know I can keep a secret."

"As the head of the Sunflower Foundation, I'm a very public person now. Everything I do is under a magnifying glass. Nevada is a macho place. Men in high places can have as many flings as they want. But women are held to a different standard. The foundation's enemies like Zeke, they would love to humiliate me and destroy everything I am trying to do."

"I never meant to put you in a bad position."

"I know that, Temo. I am not blaming you. I let it happen. I wanted it as much as you did."

"It all happened so fast that night. My whole life went upside down in a few days. Nothing's been clear. I was in the depths of hell in that jail. And you came out of nowhere like a guardian angel. You saved me."

"You saved me too, Temo. I would've used the drugs in the gas tank. You saved me a year ago, when I was an addict. I was weak. I was tempted. I might have gone back if you hadn't been here for me."

"I care about you, Annabelle."

"But you also love your wife and daughter."

"That's true."

She looked away as I answered.

"You think your marriage still has a chance."

"I don't know."

"You really believe in true love, Temo?"

"I used to. I am not sure what I believe anymore."

"I am not sure we can find love in other people," she said. "I think maybe work is the only thing that can make us happy. Maybe that's why the Sunflower Foundation means so much to me. We all end up alone. Look at David. He was totally devoted to his wife for all that time and now she's gone. They never had children. All he has left is this campaign."

"That's all I have left as well."

"Then get out there and convince people to vote."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good luck," she said before she drove away. I walked over to a spot in the shade next a discount store. I set down my stack of blank voter registration forms and volunteer cards.