Political Science 101

Chapter Thirty-Two

ON A CLOUDY but pleasantly-mild Tuesday evening, Mitch walked lightly and inconspicuously into the Merriam University library. Outwardly, he hoped none of his students would recognize him or engage him in conversation; but deep down, he would have been disappointed if this had not happened.

"Hey Dr. Bradley," spoke a young man who could have been a poster boy for any of the fraternities on campus. Mitch gave him a nod as he walked by.

"Hi, Professor Bradley!" spoke an overly-enthusiastic co-ed as she looked up from her political science textbook.

"Not since the 90s!" Mitch replied with a smile. It was his typical response to this particular greeting, playing on the homophonic relationship between Hi and High. Mitch never kept it a secret that he'd once been somewhat of a pot-smoker, back when Bill Clinton was president; Rush Limbaugh wasn't (as much of) a racist nutcase; George W. Bush was only a governor, Garth Brooks was still relevant; women still swooned for Ross, Chandler, and Joey; and Americans were still willing to fly commercially with anyone who appeared to be of Middle Eastern descent.

Yes, it was certainly a different world back then. And Mitch was certainly a different person. But one thing about Mitch always remained the same: He'd always loved the feeling of being liked, being known, and being popular. And so, as he continued his stroll through the library, making his way toward the reference section, he continued his smiles and passing greetings to students who seemed to feel liked and popular by greeting the liked and popular political science professor. Without a doubt, Mitch loved being liked and liked being loved. Who didn't? he thought to himself.

Mitch sat quietly at a one-person study table located deep in the back stacks of the library, preparing for the next day's lecture for his Political Science 101 class, addressing the anomaly of presidential elections in which the victor won the required number of electoral votes, but failed to win popular vote — most recently in the 2016 election of Donald Trump and the 2000 election of George W. Bush.

As he read, his eyes grew tired so he looked up and drew in a deep, slow, and tired breath through his nose. The old library and the books which engulfed him smelled of age and intellect. He smiled at the thought that simply being in a large library such as this, basking its signature aroma, had a way of making a person simply feel more intellectual, even without opening a single book.

His research pressed on, but in the back of his mind, he was plagued by one nagging thought: Who killed United States Congressman Arnold Jenkins? And perhaps equally (if not more) important: Who would replace him? Mitch couldn't help but think the key to finding Congressman Jenkins' assassin could be found in who replaced him as well as how this replacement voted for the upcoming and pending legislation.

In his book, Mitch wrote his own theory of such an eerily-similar situation — find who benefits from the voting pattern of the replacement, which stances are the opposite of the previous legislator, and who outside of government benefits from these changes in stances.

Arnold Jenkins' replacement would be appointed by the Missouri governor, a Republican who Mitch long-believed to be in the pockets of numerous highly-funded special interest groups.

Flipping through the endless pages of history books and reference materials neatly displayed on the desk in front of him, Dr. Mitchell K. Bradley — respected university professor and incognito political consultant — felt a slight fear. Perhaps for the first time, Mitch began to fear the world in which his own daughter would soon be growing up.

With a strong exhale, Mitch shook his head slightly, wondering what could possibly happen next.