Dead Politician Society

Chapter 19: Jonathan

Finland: Who’s got the power?

USA: You do, but it’s temporary.

Jonathan glanced at the time in the corner of his computer screen. 5:10 p.m. He could play for twenty minutes before he had to dress up in his penguin costume. To smile and serve the spoiled people of the world who sneered if the olive in their martini wasn’t big enough. Tonight was the worst of the worst: a film festival party at the home of two politicians. The egos would swell up the entire neighborhood of Forest Hill.

But he was supposed to be grateful for the job. For the chance to observe politicians in their milieu, as Dr. Easton put it.

Jonathan tried to remember why he’d combined poli sci into his major in the first place. He did want to change the world, to make things more fair for working class people who scrubbed toilets for eight hours a day and took the bus home because they couldn’t afford insurance on a crappy car, compared with the entitled set who made phone calls for an hour then skived off to the golf course for the rest of the day. And for people like his mother, who slaved night and day to sustain her small café and each month had to contemplate closing because rent was prohibitively high and business taxes kept going up. He hoped whoever replaced Hayden Pritchard as mayor understood the value of small business for the city. That guy had been a nightmare unless you were an artist or an eco-freak.

Oops—Jonathan was supposed to be an eco-freak himself at the moment. Even if he had copied Jessica's answers to be with the group.

But the more posturing and back-clapping Jonathan saw at these parties, the less appealing any job in politics became. If it hadn’t been for Jessica, he would have dropped poli sci already, gone to computer science alone. What was it about her that made him willing to change his entire life just to meet her approval?

Whatever. He couldn’t change his emotions, so he’d just have to kick her USA-playing ass from the vantage point of Finland.

Finland: Temporary, huh? I’ve taken over your oil interests worldwide—even Texas—and you can’t afford to arm your men. And—oh look—I’ve secured Canada as an ally.

USA: Canada! Cut me where it hurts, why don’t you? Still…if I sell all my women to Russia as mail-order brides…like so…that gives me money to train and arm my soldiers.

Jonathan gulped from his glass of iced tea. He looked up at his Han Solo poster for inspiration. Man, he needed to update the décor if he planned to entertain Jessica here anytime soon. A new comforter would be a good start. He still used the Harry Potter one his aunt had given him when he was ten.

Finland: Mail-order brides don’t go to Russia.

USA: They just did. Now if I distract Canada by sending over some domestic trouble…like poisoning the Great Lakes and warning my people not to drink from them…I can launch a full-on attack of Finland.

Poisoning the Great Lakes. No way that would work. He sat back and watched while…what the hell? The Canadians were dying.

He frowned. Had she found a design glitch?

But no time to wonder about the programming flaw. He had to fend off Jessica’s American soldiers as they stomped all over Finland.

Finland: But look…a Canadian journalist just wrote an exposé about how the U.S. government poisoned their neighbor’s water supply. The UN is furious. All your allies are mine now.

Jonathan clicked his mouse three times and the USA blew up. Mushroom cloud and everything.

USA: You are not even funny.

Finland: No, but I won as Finland. Now can we have that date?

USA: That was the deal.

Finland: Don’t sound so thrilled.

USA: Sorry. I’m sleep-deprived and really don’t feel like working this pompous party tonight. You’re working too, yeah?

Finland: Yeah. Hey if I can win as Tanzania will you be nice on the date?

USA: I’m always nice. I just don’t lose gracefully. See you in our servant clothes.

Jonathan’s hands were trembling so much that it took three tries before he could click his mouse to shut the game down. Things were going well, right?

He pressed Play on his iTunes. “The Neverending Story” started. He’d played this for Jessica in his head so many times before. Could she hear it on some level, as she got ready in her room? And when she heard the song, did she know it was from him?

But this was the kind of thinking he wasn’t supposed to do anymore. Magic thinking. It was for children who believed in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy. He eyed the meds he’d been prescribed, the ones his mom thought he was taking. Should he go back on them? They worked, they kept him in the real world.

But they also took all the subtext out of life. Made it too cold, too one-dimensional. Too scary.

Jonathan took one pill from the case and flushed it down the toilet. One per day. The real world could wait.