The Voting Machine

The Thought Record

Annabelle drove me back to the motel. We'd always known that Brenda was a long shot, but our failure to convince her was depressing all the same.

"There's got to be something we can do," Annabelle said.

"She has to want it," I said. "You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped. It was a stupid idea in the first place. We were in over our head. We don't know anything about war."

"That's the point. She needs to get past it. She needs to meet people like us, who aren't soldiers. She needs to realize she can have another mission besides war."

When I reached my motel, I called Larry to get an update on his secret assignment. He gave me his report on Suzy.

"She's taking Reina out to the daycare for a few hours in the afternoon. Then she drives around. She's applying for jobs in Japanese restaurants around Torrance and Gardena. But they won't give her one."

"Of course not. Suzy's Japanese but she grew up in Brazil. If those restaurants want to hire someone, they'll get some native Japanese from Japan. There's plenty of them living in Torrance. They aren't going to hire a Japanese from Brazil who speaks the language with a funny accent."

"There's something else, Temo. She is doing something strange."

"What do you mean?"

"She went to Gina's grave."

"You're kidding."

"She's done it several times. It's like some kind of ritual."

"Why would she be going to Gina's grave?"

"I don't know."

"What does she do there? Does she take flowers or something?"

"No, she just stands there. Sometimes she goes alone and sometimes she takes the baby. She'll sit there and read the tombstone. Then sometimes she'll check the screen of her cell phone, like she's reading e-mail and text or something."

"E-mail?"

"I can try to hack in and read it if you want."

"No, no. Don't do that. It's bad enough I have you watching her. I shouldn't have you snooping on her. I trust her. She's already told me she was seeing someone else. I shouldn't have told you to do this."

"Hey, you asked, man. I used to charge clients good money to do these kinds of assignments."

"You haven't told me about the guy? Is she seeing someone?"

"Yeah, she is. She wasn't making that up."

My heart sank. "Do I know him?"

Larry didn't answer.

"Fuck! I shouldn't have done this. Don't tell me, OK? Don't send me a photo. I am better off not knowing."

"It's too late for that. I already sent the picture to your Gmail address. She met him in the park when Reina was at daycare."

"Delete the picture. Damn it, Larry, I never should've asked you to do this."

"It's in your inbox, Temo. It's on you. You want to delete it without taking a look you can do it. Just don't ask me to do any more favors. This is too weird."

"You're right. I am sorry."

"That's all right. I've been there."

I walked down to the campaign office by myself the next morning. Annabelle and David sat in the meeting room discussing Brenda.

"What kind of help is she getting from the VA?" Annabelle said.

"It sounds like they're using cognitive therapy," David said. "It's a way to treat depression that started in the 1960s, when I was in grad school. It contends that depression is a thinking problem. Negative thoughts might start with a real experience but they morph into something bigger that distorts your whole view of reality. Brenda seems to be going through some version of this whenever we bring up voting.

"Cognitive therapy teaches you to recognize negative thoughts around an issue and correct them. You take a problem and you try to disassemble it to separate your emotions, thoughts, and actions from the reality. Patients typically get homework from their sessions, like keeping a thought record in their notebook to recognize how their mind is working. You remember Brenda's notebook where she was supposed to keep a record of her thoughts?"

"Doesn't seem like its helping," I said.

"Well, she's not doing it," David replied. "The book was empty. Remember? She's afraid to put her thoughts down on paper."

"That's right. She had that top-secret mission. Do you think it's real?"

"I don't know. It could be rooted in something that happened in the war. Some of the troops were assigned to monitor the elections after the invasion, a handful of soldiers spread across tens of thousands of polling places. Or it could be a complete fantasy. Either way, she's suffering from PTSD."

"Maybe it's not voting," Annabelle said. "Maybe it's just being out in public around crowds. That sets off a lot of vets, right?"

We heard the rattle of the front door and Brenda stepped in. She had the same frantic eyes as the first time I saw her in front of the DMV. She seemed to realize we'd been talking about her.

"I am sorry for being so rude," she said. "I know you meant well coming to see me. I know y'all want to help, and the truth is I need it. I can't do this to my mom. If I keep on with the pills and the drinking, I am not going to make it."

"We may not be soldiers, but we've been through hard times," Annabelle said. "During this campaign, every one of us has been in a spot that seemed so dark there was no way out. We wouldn't have made it through without each other."

"Brenda, we know the voting is hard for you. It's stirring something up in your mind," David said. "You've got to decide how you want to cope. You can try to avoid this election, but that might not work. Sooner or later, you're going to have to reintegrate. You're probably going to live as a civilian in this country for the rest of your life. It's your choice what strategy you want to take. We're here to help you either way."

"A woman in the service can never be weak," she muttered. "I was never a coward going into war. I can't be a coward coming out of war. I've seen this happen to my friends. The drinking and the meds becomes a crutch. I promised that would never happen to me."

"We won't let it," Annabelle said.

"Mr. Stone, you remember how I was in high school. You had the Democracy in Education program. That's what gave me the idea to run for class president. That's what I wanted to do in the war. I wanted to fight for freedom and help those people decide their future. If I could do it over there, then I can do it over here. I want to help your campaign. I want to fight again."