The Minnesota Candidate

by Nicholas Antinozzi

  Chona’s old bungalow in Rochester was small, but it had been meticulously restored. Six blocks from the Mayo Clinic, the house was everything he had ever dreamed about during his time in prison. He could see himself living here, mowing the lawn, having cookouts with the neighbors, filling bird feeders, doing all of those domestic things that people on the outside took for granted.

  Sam walked downstairs and he found Chona waiting by the front door. She wore a tiny red dress that left little to the imagination. “Come on,” she said, “Let’s go out to breakfast, I’m starving.”

  “Ain’t you gonna put some clothes on?”

  “Stop being silly, don’t you like my dress?”

  “I love your dress, but I don’t like the idea of other guys staring at my lady.”

  “You’ll just have to get over it. Let them eat their hearts out. I put a lot of work into this body and I’m proud of it.”

  Sam decided to let it go. He had never dated anyone like Chona before and the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable. She looked like a million bucks and if she wanted to show off her assets, who was he to argue?

  The small city of Rochester had seemed oblivious to what was happening in the outside world. There was gas at the gas stations, expensive, but available, and the grocery stores had food on the shelves. In fact, from what Chona could tell, none of the area businesses had shut down because of the financial crisis. “It’s because of the Mayo Clinic,” she had said. “There is a lot of money down here.”

  Following Chona’s directions, Sam drove to Lenny’s Restaurant, a 24 hour place that served breakfast around the clock. He parked the truck at the far end of the lot, well away from other vehicles. “My old man taught me to do this. He hated door dents.”

  “You won’t get an argument out of me,” said Chona. She leaned over and gave Sam a long kiss. “I just can’t get enough of you,” she whispered. “Can this really be happening?”

  “I was just thinkin’ the same thing.”

  “I don’t ever want to lose you, Sam.”

  “Right back at ya, kid.”

  They climbed out of Chona’s Ford and nearly collided with a family as they walked by the front of the truck. They were obviously Muslim. The man was wearing white and the woman was cloaked in a shapeless burka. She walked with her hands covering the faces of two children. The man glared at them, cradling an infant in one arm and covering the baby’s face with his free hand. Sam nearly said something, but Chona gave him a slight shake of her head. After they had passed, Chona explained that Rochester had a large Muslim population. “They’re very conservative,” she added.

  Inside Lenny’s, Sam caught a disapproving look from their hostess as she seated them at their table, which was as far away from the other customers as possible. She even corralled Chona into the seat facing the wall. And while the restaurant wasn’t very busy, it was ten minutes before a server arrived at their table. “Would you like some coffee?” asked a skinny teenaged boy with short blonde hair and a bad case of acne. He tried handing them a pair of menus.

  Chona held up her hands. “We already know what we want. I’ll have a ham and cheese omelet and coffee. Can I get a glass of milk with my meal?”

  The blonde-haired kid gave her a funny look. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have any ham.”

  “Oh, then just make it with green peppers and onions.”

  The kid didn’t even respond. He simply turned his pocked face to Sam. “And you, sir?” he asked.

  “I’ll have bacon and eggs, over easy.”

  “I’m sorry, but we don’t have any bacon.”

  “Is that right? Well, I suppose I’ll have sausage, links, if you have them.”

  “We don’t serve pork. All we carry are beef products. May I suggest the beefkin? It’s like beef bacon.”

  “Are you nuts? Who ever heard of such a thing? What kind of a breakfast joint doesn’t serve pork? Beefkin, that’s the craziest thing I ever heard.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, I’m just doing my job.”

  Just then, Sam spotted a young man, dressed in a white robe, walking toward them. He carried what looked like a heavy brown robe in his hands and his face was as cold as stone. “Excuse me,” he said, speaking directly to Chona. “But we cannot serve you dressed like that. This is a respectable establishment. As the manager, I must insist you put on this burka or you leave the restaurant, immediately.”

  “Dressed like what?” asked Chona, indignantly.

  The man held the burka out to her. “Dressed like a cheap whore.”

  Sam shot out of the booth and sent the manager running for his life. Just then, two uniformed police officers walked into the restaurant. Sam froze and slowly returned to the table. “Let’s get outta here,” he said. “I just lost my appetite.”

  The manager was at the door talking to the police, waving his arms and pointing in their direction. The server stood and glared at Sam, his skinny arms crossed at his chest. Chona got up from the booth and Sam could see tears in her eyes. “I’ve been coming here since I was a little girl,” she said. “And I’ve never been treated like this.”

  “Welcome to Rochester,” said the kid, giving them a smirk.

  Sam and Chona left through the back door, but one of the police officers followed them out to the Ford. He had short black hair and a big nose and Sam thought he could easily pass as a Picacello. The cop stopped them before they got into the truck. “Hang on,” he said. “Haven’t you two been keeping up with the news?”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Chona, wiping tears from her eyes. “All we wanted was some breakfast.”

  “You can’t get it, not dressed like that. Don’t get me wrong, I think you look great, but I don’t make the rules.”

  “What rules you talkin’ about?” asked Sam.

  The police officer lowered his voice and shook his head. Sam read the name on the cop’s uniform and saw the man’s last name was Denucci. “Rochester has incorporated Sharia Law into the City Code. And if ya ask me, the people that did it are completely nuts. But I got a wife and five kids to feed, ya know? I don’t like it, not one bit.”

  Sam nodded his head. “How can you stay here? They tried to serve me beefkin in there. Who ever heard of such a thing?”

  “Yeah, at least you weren’t out for pizza. You can’t eat a pizza without sausage or pepperoni. I’m telling you, it’s really ugly. So, did you two just get into town or have you been living under a rock?”

  “We just got here,” said Chona, “late last night.”

  Officer Denucci nodded his head. “I thought as much. Look, go out and get yourself a local paper. Better yet, pack up and go back to wherever it is you came from. I hate to say it, but the Muslim’s are taking over. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.”

  “So, they come here from their country and expect us to change our ways to suit them, huh?” asked Sam.

  “They don’t just expect it,” said Denucci, “they demand it. And in Rochester, it looks like we’ve let them have their way.”

  They said their goodbyes and Denucci walked back into the restaurant. Chona climbed back into the passenger seat and Sam got behind the wheel. “I can’t live here,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look, I love you, but I can’t live in a town that ain’t got no ham or bacon.”

  Chona’s eyes grew large. “What did you say to me?”

  “I said that I need pork. I can’t live here.”

  “No, the other part, what did you say to me?”

  Sam thought about that. “Oh, I said I love you. I really do and I been meanin’ to tell ya that. I’m sorry, is it too early for me to say somethin’ like that?”

  “Oh my God, no, it certainly isn’t. I love you, too! I almost told you, but I was afraid of what you’d say.”

  “You shouldn’t have been afraid. A blind man could see that I love you. I’m not kiddin’ around, I think you’re swell.”

  �
��That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  “But I can’t live down here.”

  “I know, baby, I can’t either. We’re going to have to go back to Minneapolis. I’ll dig around. I’m sure I can find us some work.”

  Sam started the truck and Chona directed them back to her house. They walked inside and Chona turned on the local news. Sam thought he was going to be sick as he listened to the sweeping changes that were scheduled to take place. As of Monday, the women in Rochester women were not allowed out of their homes without wearing a burka. Possession of pork products was a gross misdemeanor and serving pork in a restaurant would be considered a felony. The news anchor also spoke of plans to relocate area churches and synagogues, outside the city limits. By this time, Sam and Chona were both on their feet, cursing the television. And then they stopped cursing and they both gawked at the television screen.

  Behind the anchorman was a picture of Doris Picacello’s new house. Sam could even see himself in the photograph. “Hey look,” he said, excitedly. “I’m on TV!”

  They nearly fell over as a live feed was broadcast from the house. But the house was gone. Overnight, fire had ravaged what was described as the miracle home. “What took five days to build, was destroyed in five minutes,” said the reporter, embellishing the truth. “Oh my God,” gasped Chona. “I’m still carrying that place on my insurance. I couldn’t drop it until we did a final inspection with the owner. I have to call my agent.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “We’re going to have to rebuild the house.”

  “What for? If you ask me, that’s just Doris gettin’ what she deserves, the old bat. Let her figure it out.”

  “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t work that way. My insurance policy insists that I rebuild when something like this happens. You wanted to go back to Minneapolis, well, we’re going. Go pack your things.”

  Chapter 21

  Tom told Shari the whole story, except the part about what Mrs. Kindersley had told him. Shari listened and paced the bedroom floor. She slapped her forehead and hugged Tom several times, apologizing for what she had said on the stairs. She even had Tom call the police and report the Mercedes as being stolen, coaching him as he spoke on the telephone. “If the police find out you were over there,” she said, “you’ll be arrested and charged with murder!”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much why I didn’t want anyone to know.”

  “I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Tom smiled and nodded his head. “I should have told you right away. Now, would it be too much to ask if I could take a nap. I’m just exhausted.”

  “Of course you can take a nap. Sleep as long as you like. You had a terrible night.”

  “I did,” agreed Tom. “But wake me up in an hour. I want to get Steve and Lumpy out of here.”

  “But they’re out of gas.”

  “The boat is full. I’ll siphon out a few gallons and dump it into Steve’s pile of crap. It isn’t even noon yet and they’re both drunk. You go downstairs and cut them off. We’ll sober them up and send them packing.”

  “What about Marie?”

  Tom thought about that. He didn’t like Marie, he had never liked Marie, but she did keep his mom out of their hair. “I don’t know,” he said. “She keeps mom busy.”

  “I know and she can stay, but you have to talk to the both of them. They’re not getting into my parent’s house. I won’t have it.”

  Tom held his hands up and nodded his sleepy head. “I’ll talk to them.”

  Shari walked to the door and turned to say something else, but Tom was already getting undressed. She smiled and decided to burn his new clothes as soon as he was asleep. She walked downstairs and stared at the telephone. She had to call Chona, but she was afraid of what Chona might say. Silently, Shari chastised herself for accusing Sam of stealing her gun. She prayed that there was some way she could make it up to him.

  And then the phone rang.

  Shari walked over to the telephone and stared in shock at the name on the caller ID. She picked up the telephone. “Hello?”

  “Shari, its Chona. We have to talk. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No, not at all, I suppose this is about the house?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what it’s about. I just got off the telephone with my insurance agent. The house and everything in it was covered. We can’t rebuild it in a week, but we can probably have it completed by the middle of July. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.”

  “But you’ll rebuild it. I thought you were staying down in Rochester?”

  “You don’t understand, Shari. I don’t want to rebuild the house. I’m required to rebuild it by my insurance company. Don’t think that we’ve forgotten about what you said to Sam. You really hurt him.”

  “I’m so sorry about that,” groaned Shari. “Will you please tell him that? I was out of my mind, Chona. I didn’t know what I was saying. I’m begging you… please tell him how sorry I am.”

  For a long moment, Chona was silent. “Okay, but I’m not making any promises. I can’t speak for Sam, but I’ll try and put the incident behind us. You and I are going to need to work together. But I’m warning you, that kind of shit doesn’t fly with me. Are we clear on that?”

  “Oh yes, you have my word on that. Thank you, Chona, thank you so much. Give my love to Sam, will you?”

  “I already did, Shari, I already did.”

  Shari actually laughed as she hung up the phone. Her prayers seemed to have been answered. Her heart seemed a hundred pounds lighter. She put on a pot of coffee and opened up the patio door, enjoying the cool breeze that blew in from across the bay. She saw that Lumpy and Steve were sitting at the end of the dock, hanging their feet in the water. Doris and Marie stood behind them, smoking. There were even boats out on the lake, which made everything seem right in the world. Shari was so happy that she began to sing an old Blondie song. She danced around the kitchen as she tidied up the room.

  Upstairs, Tom was having a hard time falling asleep. Exhausted as he was, he just couldn’t shut down his brain. He was going to have to get Shari out of the house, but he had no idea how he would be able to do it without making her suspicious. She had proven herself to be highly perceptible to what was going on around her. If she caught him inside the big house, she may well throw him out into the street.

  Tom thought about Sam and wished he was there to give him advice. Sam would know what to do, Tom was sure of it. If what Mrs. Kindersley had told him was true, Tom was going to need help finding that ray gun. Even the thought of a ray gun made him laugh. The whole idea now seemed as far-fetched as the plot to a James Bond movie. But Mrs. Kindersley had not been laughing when she had explained it to him. She had been extremely serious and Tom had never known her as being a practical joker. Besides, she had given him the journals; jokers didn’t go to such lengths to fool people, at least, they didn’t in Tom’s world.

  Tom fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of ray guns and secret Muslim agents.

  Shari slipped into the bedroom and picked up the green slacks and the plaid shirt and after checking the pockets, she stuffed them into a trash bag. She brought them down to the can before returning to the bedroom. Tom’s hour was up and she was excited to tell him the news. “Hey baby,” she said, caressing his arm, “time to wake up.”

  Tom pried his eyes open and felt worse than he did before he fell asleep. He pulled himself into a sitting position and yawned. “Do we have coffee?” he asked.

  “I just brewed a fresh pot. Honey, I have fantastic news. I just got off the telephone with Chona. She and Sam saw your mother’s house on the news and you’ll never guess what she said.”

  Tom felt instantly awake. “Oh my God, what did she say?”

  “She said that the house and everything in it was covered by her insurance. Can you believe it? And it gets better, are you sitting down?”

  “Look at me.”

>   “Ha, I know, I know, but this just keeps getting better. Chona is required by her insurance company to rebuild your mother’s house. Don’t ask me how that works, but I’m certainly not complaining. Chona and Sam are on their way back from Rochester and they plan to return to work on Monday. Isn’t that wonderful? She said the house should be done by the middle of July.”

  “Did you talk to Sam?”

  “No, but I begged Chona to ask him to forgive me.”

  “He’s a big man. I’m sure he’ll put it behind him.”

  Tom smiled and reached out for Shari. The two embraced and exchanged a short kiss. “Oh,” she said, “somebody has a bad case of stinky-breath. I want you to march into that bathroom and brush those teeth.”

  Tom’s smile vanished, but it quickly returned as Shari began to undress. “Oh… right,” he said, “I’ll be right back.”

  Later that afternoon, Doris and Marie stood in front of the big house and stared at the chain. “If I were you,” said Marie, “I’d be mad as hell. What, doesn’t she trust you?”

  “I guess not,” said Doris, “and after everything I’ve done for her.”

  “That chain looks ridiculous. Who does shit like that? What a little bitch.”

  “I can’t stand the sight of her. I wish Tommy would get a good lawyer and take her for half of everything he owns.”

  “Why stop at half? I’ve got just the lawyer for him. You just say the word.”

  Doris nodded her head and continued staring at the house. “How in the hell are we going to get in there?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” said Marie, scratching the whiskers on her chin. “All this time, we’ve been trying to get in through the front door. Ain’t there a back door?”