The Minnesota Candidate

by Nicholas Antinozzi

  Louie offered Tom a candy bar and he quickly devoured it. He then offered him a cold can and Tom shook his head. His fingers were still trembling and the last thing he wanted was another energy drink. “Do you got something against beer?” asked Louie.

  Tom snatched the can away from his friend and he popped open the top. He then drank, thirstily. “Oh man,” he groaned, “does that ever hit the spot.”

  “Yeah, well don’t tell my old man. He’d kill me if he knew we were mixing firearms and alcohol.”

  In the soft glow of candlelight, seated around the radio as if they had been transported back in time, they listened to the unbelievable news. Shari sat with her head in her hands. The President had declared a State of Emergency. He also declared martial law and warned of dire consequences for anyone who broke the strict dusk to dawn curfew.

  Shari was still digesting this news when Anchorman Bob cut to a female reporter on Capitol Hill. “Let me begin by apologizing if my voice sounds muffled,” she began, “but in a bizarre twist of events, the women here have been asked to wear a burka. Actually, we weren’t asked, but I don’t have time to get into that. Bob, what I really want to talk about are the rumors that President Peabody and Vice President Mertz, along with several members of Congress, have reportedly converted to Islam. Both the House and the Senate are locked behind closed doors and I have unconfirmed reports that they are debating the idea of incorporating Sharia Law into the United States Constitution. Meanwhile, CIA Director Sharif Abdul, has been quoted as saying that Americans are being encouraged to convert to Islam.”

  The reporter began to say something else, but there was the sound of a scuffle and then she shouted something unintelligible, before being cut off. Then, instead of bringing the broadcast back to the news desk, the radio station went into a commercial break.

  “Well, that ain’t good,” said Marie, itching away at her inner thigh. “Hey Shari, got anything else to eat?”

  Shari pointed to the kitchen. “Help yourself to whatever you want,” she said.

  “I could eat,” said Lumpy, who followed Marie into the kitchen.

  Steve, his red eyes barely half open, gave Shari a sly smile. “I guess that means Fat Tommy won’t be coming home,” he said, suggestively.

  Doris practically flew from her chair, picking up a hefty bronze statuette from the end table. She stopped, hovering over Steve, and raised the statuette over her head. “What the hell was that supposed to mean?” she asked.

  Steve sank down in his wing chair and covered his head. “Nothing,” he cried. “I didn’t mean nothing by it, Aunt Doris!”

  “Yeah, well it had better have been nothing. I’m warning you, mister.”

  Shari watched all of this as if she were in a dream. None of them seemed to understand what was happening. Marie and Lumpy were hungry, Steve was hitting on her, and Doris was about to cave his head in for doing so. Their world was going to hell in a handbag and none of them seemed to care. Doris returned Shari’s award to the end table and she sat back down on the sofa, her eyes never leaving Steve. “What did you two make of that?” Shari asked. “All of that stuff we heard on the radio. Do you believe it?”

  “I’m not letting you leave the house,” said Doris, “if that’s what you mean. You heard what they said: we’re under a dusk to dawn curfew. I just hope that Tommy heard the news. I’m so worried about him.”

  “I was thinking about that,” said Steve. “What about guys like me? I live in my car, you know, because I ain’t got anyone who will take me in. What if the police found me sleeping in a parking lot?”

  Doris rolled her eyes and scratched her leg. “I’m sure the police have bigger fish to fry. No, I’m really worried about Tommy. Steve, go see if the phone is working.”

  “What, are your legs broken?”

  “Don’t make me come over there.”

  “Okay, jeez, can’t you take a joke?”

  “Not tonight. And I don’t want to hear anymore lip out of you. If you want to find out what the police will do if they find you sleeping out on the street, you just keep talking.”

  Steve was out of his chair before Doris had finished making her threat. Shari turned to her. “What about all of that stuff about converting to Islam? Doesn’t that worry you?”

  “Why should it? I sure as hell ain’t converting to anything. I’m a Catholic, Shari; which, by the way, is something we need to talk about. What religion are you, honey?”

  Shari was stunned by the question. “I was raised Lutheran.”

  This seemed to please Doris and she gave Shari a wink. “Oh, we can fix that. You’re going to love being a Catholic.”

  Shari sank back into her chair. She didn’t have the energy to argue with Doris. Beyond that, after what they had just heard on the radio, she was stunned that Doris would even suggest such a thing. Steve poked his head around the corner and said that the phones were still down and then he returned to the kitchen. Shari sipped her wine and wondered how she was ever going to fall asleep.

  “So, I’ve been thinking,” said Doris, scooting to the end of the sofa to sit next to Shari. She lowered her voice. “Tomorrow, after we get rid of everyone, I was hoping you would give me a private tour of your parent’s house. I promise not to tell anyone, even Tommy. You know how much I want to see it.”

  Shari was stupefied by the request. The radio played yet another commercial. When Shari finally recovered enough to reply, Marie came charging into the living room. “You’re not going in there without me,” she growled. She was carrying a heaping plate of food in one hand and a fresh bottle of wine in the other. “I almost died over there. My arm still hurts.”

  “Your arm is fine,” said Doris. “Oh, I didn’t know we had hot dogs. Are there any left?”

  “You had better get in there,” replied Marie. “You know how those two can eat.”

  Doris stood up and she turned to Shari. “Would you like one?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Doris smiled and rubbed her considerable belly. “I understand,” she said. “You have to watch that girlish figure, don’t you? That’s a good idea. Now, you just think about what I asked you, okay? We can talk about it in the morning.”

  Holding a half-eaten hot dog in one hand, Marie turned to Shari. “I won’t say anything to anyone, either,” she said, chewing a mouthful of food. “Doris and me are just like sisters. Where she goes, I go.”

  Shari felt as if her head were about to explode, but Anchorman Bob saved her. Shari held up her hand and pointed to the radio. Marie nodded and continued to attack her plate of food. Shari listened, but Bob moved onto the weather and then to the sports, which had all been postponed. Still, that didn’t stop Bob from talking about them. Shari leaned forward and twisted the dial on the old radio, but the other news stations seemed to have switched over to a classical music format. Angrily, she shut off the radio.

  Lumpy and Steve returned, soon followed by Doris. They sat down and the room was filled with the sound of crunching food and smacking lips. Shari thought she was going to be sick. She stared at her watch and saw that it was well after 10:00. She rose from her chair and turned to Lumpy and Steve. “You two are going to fight it out to see who sleeps in the other bedroom. One of you will have to bunk out here on the sofa. There are plenty of blankets and pillows. I’m tired and I’m going to bed.”

  “Aren’t you going to wait up for Tommy?” asked Doris.

  Shari picked up a candle and stared up at the ceiling. “We’re under a curfew,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll drive over to your house and I’ll find Tom.”

  “Do you mind if we have another bottle of wine?” asked Lumpy.

  “Drink it all. I don’t care what you do.”

  Lumpy and Steve exchanged a thirsty grin. “I’m sure you’re right,” said Doris. “You just sleep on what we talked about, okay?”

  “Oh, I certainly will.”

  “That’s good. Sweet dreams, honey.” />
  “Yeah,” said Marie. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”

  Shari left them there and climbed the stairs. She walked to her bedroom and closed and locked the door. In the flickering candlelight, she changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed. She had never felt more awake and she tossed and turned. Finally, she blew out the candle. The room was as dark as night, but Shari’s thoughts were far darker. Alone with her thoughts, Shari wished she would have remembered her radio. She was angered not only by Doris’ request of a private showing of her parent’s house, which was never going to happen, but by the lackadaisical response by her guests to the breaking news on the radio. They seemed oblivious to the fact that colossal changes were waiting in the wings and that their entire way of life was being threatened.

  Since when were female reporters required to wear a burka? The very thought of it made Shari’s blood boil. She continued thrashing under the blankets, but only until her thoughts drifted to her own financial situation. Shari felt the heaviness settle in her chest. The helpless feeling was unlike any she had ever experienced and it now threatened to suffocate her.

  Downstairs, Lumpy and Steve stepped outside for a smoke and Marie played with the radio dial until she discovered an oldies station. She then sat back down next to Doris. “So, what’s the plan?” she whispered, her eyes darting around the room.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Hey, this is me you’re talking to. Don’t go acting all innocent, I know how your brain works.”

  Doris felt offended, which wasn’t unusual when Marie spoke to her, but this time was somehow different. She bristled and sat up straight. “The plan,” she said, “is not to rock the boat. My daughter in-law is under a lot of pressure and we should be doing all we can to make her life easier.”

  Marie’s eyes grew large and then she began to laugh. “You almost had me there,” she chortled. “I think you missed your calling, Doris. You should have been an actress.”

  “Well, I’m not acting. We were out of line and we never should have gone inside that house. We could have been killed over there. My God, what if she hadn’t found us? My thighs are still on fire.”

  Marie scowled and scratched at her calves. “Yeah, but now that we know about the booby trap, it’ll be clear sailing. Don’t you want to get back in there? We were so damn close.”

  Doris did want to get back in there, more than she wanted anything in her whole life, but she wasn’t about to let Marie know how she felt. She would bide her time and the opportunity would present itself. She put on her stone face and stared straight ahead.

  Marie raised her chin. “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, huh?”

  Doris didn’t reply and a moment later, Steve and Lumpy strolled in through the patio door. Doris walked over to them as they hovered over the dining room table. “I’m going to bed,” she announced. “I don’t care who sleeps in the bedroom at the end of the hall, but don’t either of you go to sleep without cleaning up that mess in the kitchen. Do you understand me?”

  “That’s right,” said Marie, who was suddenly standing behind her. “And while you’re at it, clean up that living room. Show a little respect, will ya? If I wake up and this place isn’t clean, I’m going to be really pissed off.”

  “That makes two of us,” agreed Doris.

  Marie nodded her head. “And don’t drink up all of that wine. This could be a long weekend.”

  “She has like three cases in the pantry,” said Lumpy. “I doubt we could drink them all.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Steve, “what do you think we are… alcoholics?”

  “That’s exactly what you are,” replied Marie. “You two haven’t been sober since the fifth grade.”

  “I’m going to bed,” said Doris. “Try and keep it down out here.”

  “That’s right,” said Marie. “If you guys wake me up, I’m going to be really pissed off.”

  Doris rolled her eyes and she picked up a candle. Marie did the same thing and she followed Doris down the hall. Doris walked into her bedroom and closed the door. She set the candle down on her bedside table and stared down at the bed. She really was tired and she quickly undressed and crawled under the covers. The soft sheets felt good and Doris let her mind wander as the cool sheets caressed her flaming skin.

  She hated Marie for what she had said. And on some level, Doris hated herself. She did have a plan to get inside the big house. She had thought of little else after they had been rescued. Doris thought that someone as organized as Shari would certainly keep an extra set of keys for everything she owned. Vince had been like that, even though Doris had never understood why.

  Before she could start her search, she was going to have to get everyone out of the house. Getting rid of Lumpy and Steve should be easy enough, she thought. There was fuel in the boat and she wasn’t above siphoning gas. The tough part was going to be talking Marie into leaving with the two of them. Marie wasn’t going to like that. Doris shook her head and bared her teeth. She didn’t care what Marie thought, or how she felt, or what she did in that stupid apartment of hers. She was getting into that car. Marie could be stubborn, but Doris thought she could be twice as stubborn.

  The scowl turned into a sweet smile as Doris imagined being inside the big house, alone, covered in jewelry, rolling in a massive pile of gold and silver coins. Tommy slipped into her thoughts, but she quickly shoved him out. She didn’t want anything, or anyone, spoiling her dreams. And with this on her mind, Doris drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 17

  “Wait a minute,” said Tom. “What did you say?”

  “I said that President Peabody changed his name. He’s now President Ali Mohamed. Vice President Mertz, he’s now Vice President Malik Shabazz. They changed their names when they converted to Islam.”

  “That’s really funny, will you quit clowning around?”

  Louie shook his head. “But I’m not joking. All of the major news outlets are reporting it. They really did it.”

  They were back up on the roof and it was just after midnight. The shooting had stopped and flashing lights told them that emergency vehicles were finally at the scene of the fires. Louie had spent the last half hour downstairs, while Tom had stayed on the roof and stood guard. “That doesn’t make sense,” said Tom. “Why on earth would they suddenly convert to Islam?”

  Louie shrugged his shoulders. “The way I understood it, they said that most religions were basically the same, so it would be best if the country adopted a single one that best represented our beliefs.”

  “But that’s a load of crap.”

  “I was raised a Buddhist, you don’t have to tell me that.”

  “And you’re telling me that a bunch of people in Congress are converting, too?”

  “That’s what I read before the battery in my laptop died. I suppose it could all be bullshit, but why would the mainstream media be reporting it?”

  Tom shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “This is just crazy. None of it makes any sense. Normal people don’t flip-flop on their religious beliefs.”

  “Yeah, but these aren’t normal people, they’re politicians.”

  “That’s a good point. Well, did you see anything about them turning the power back on?”

  “No, but we’re not alone. The grid is down all over the country.”

  “Did they say what caused it? Did we have an EMP or something?”

  “I don’t think so. Our electronics still work, so I guess it must have been caused by something else.”

  Tom stood up and surveyed the carnage below. The parking lot looked like a war zone, which he supposed it was. The sound of gunshots had been replaced by the wailing of sirens and Tom could see flashing lights all over the city. “I think the jihad is over,” he said, “at least for tonight.”

  Louie checked his watch. “Why don’t you see if you can catch a couple hours of sleep? I think one of us should stay up here and stand guard.”

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p; Tom laughed at the thought of going to sleep. “You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll stay out here and take the first shift. I couldn’t sleep if you paid me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, go ahead.”

  Louie stretched his arms and groaned. “Alright, I’ll be back up here in an hour or so. I hope you’re right and our friends have called it a night.”

  “Me too, go on and get some rest.”

  Tom watched as Louie disappeared through the back door. He then returned his attention to the parking lot. He stood there and thought about everything that had happened. He felt as if he were living in someone else’s nightmare. The thought of killing another man had never entered his mind, until tonight, and he suddenly felt sick about it. He had broken the biggest of the Ten Commandments. He would carry that sin with him into the next world. With his back to the ledge, Tom slumped down into a sitting position, praying that God would forgive him. He closed his eyes.

  And somehow, Tom drifted off into a troubled sleep. He dreamed of bearded men wielding bloody machetes, of headless corpses, and of being surrounded by hundreds of men with stones. Tom had no idea of how long he had slept, but he awoke to the sound of screeching tires. Flashing red and blue lights glowed from all around the store. Tom rubbed his eyes and he got to his knees. He poked his head up over the ledge and saw no less than six squad cars in the parking lot. They were parked at odd angles and men in riot gear were advancing on the store. The sound of crashing glass sent him sprawling. From down below, he could hear the sound of boots crunching on the glass and the sound of shouting men. There was a gunshot, followed by an angry burst of semi-automatic fire.

  Tom scrambled to his feet. He was trapped and there seemed to be no way out. Standing next to the door was a brick chimney. The chimney looked impossibly narrow, but Tom knew it was his only hope. While the shooting continued, Tom heaved himself up on top of the box-like doorway. He leapt from the roof and clung to the old chimney. Using every ounce of strength he had, Tom scaled the chimney and dropped his legs into the dark abyss. Slowly, he wedged himself down into the blackness. His feet landed on what appeared to be a metal flue and Tom breathed a sigh of relief.