The Golden Boy Returns (The New Pioneers Book 5)

by Deborah Nam-Krane

  "You're not done," Kasi said. "How is your vision different than Nelson's?"

  "In every possible way," David said without missing a beat. "I can only judge someone by his actions, so I feel like I can say it's pretty clear that the New Boston John is working for is a lousy deal for Old and New Bostonians. I completely agree that Boston can't keep losing young families. We want those families to stay and put down roots, and I get it, in many ways it comes back to the schools. But the kinds of changes he's proposing are going to expand, not shrink the achievement gap. And with the cost of living going up—what's the average rent now in Boston for a one-bedroom, two thousand per month?—the real question isn't how are we going to keep the middle class but how are we going to keep working families? The Boston I see every day—the Boston I believe in—has room for both."

  "Lovely," Kasi said as she crossed Nelson's name off the list. "That's the real competition. What about Benjamin?"

  David groaned. "Man, I almost wish I could vote for him."

  "Then you would be one of the few," Charlie said solemnly. "Come on, you've got to do it for everyone."

  "Fine." Deep breath. "Tom is one of the reasons Dorchester is on the map, but his expertise is limited to healthcare. Yes, people need healthy food and access to safe public spaces; we all agree. But how are we going to make that food affordable? And how are we going to address the financial realities around infrastructure planning so we can get there? Tom hasn't given us answers to that."

  "Okay," Kasi said, crossing off the name. "Don't go too deep on that. Just say that he doesn't have a plan and let him answer from there, because it's not going to matter."

  "Zanuck," Martin said.

  David rolled his eyes. "Seriously? Because when I think about development and housing, I'm thinking of the people who have to live and work in those spaces every day; he's thinking of what's best for the developers, and as a councilor I had reams of complaints from tenants and small business owners about the same people who have been his biggest backers."

  "Yeah, whatever," Kasi muttered. "Chauncy," she said wickedly as she threw a glance at Charlie.

  Charlie groaned. "Can I leave the room?"

  "No, it's quick," David said. "Chauncy has won his district unopposed the last two terms—but the number of people who have turned out in those elections has dropped each time. In fact, his district is the only district that's seen a loss in electoral activity over the last eight years." He smiled. "Plus, I know he has lousy taste in staff."

  Kasi and Martin laughed and Charlie rolled his eyes. "And he's one of the most corrupt members of the council and he'll be able to keep his damn seat when he loses this race."

  "Last one," Kasi said. "Cleary."

  "He doesn't have a license to run his radio station. If he thinks the laws around it should be changed, let him change them, not scorn them. If he does that as a private citizen, why should we believe he'd act any differently as mayor?"

  "And...done!" Kasi said, crossing off the name. "Can we finish eating now?"

  Charlie bit down on his food. "Where are we with Donnelly?"

  "Please don't give me indigestion," Kasi snarked.

  "Now, now," Martin said gently. "Jack's heart is in the right place."

  Charlie turned his head sharply. "Really?"

  Martin shrugged. "He wants to be helpful."

  Kasi rolled her eyes. "So why did he pledge to Nelson?"

  "Their families go back," David said dismissively. "Jack wouldn't be able to show his face in Southie again if he endorsed me against Nelson."

  "You mean we're not going to get Southie?" Kasi deadpanned.

  "Why do we even canvass there?" Charlie wondered aloud.

  "Um, what?" David asked, irritated. "Because it's part of Boston, and I'd like to be the mayor of the entire city, not just the parts that already like me. You know, that's why we call this a campaign and not an appointment?"

  "We're not going to win those wards," Kasi reminded him.

  "Of course we're not," David said. "But this isn't the electoral college; I get every vote that's cast for me, and if I can convince one person to vote for me in Southie because we bothered to put up posters and lit drop, that's one more vote I wouldn't have gotten before."

  Kasi thought for a moment. "Well, since we're talking about wasting manpower, I want to throw down in Allston and the Fenway."

  Charlie frowned. "There aren't a lot of votes there, and what few there are will go to Nelson and Zanuck."

  Kasi nodded as she thought. "I think we can make some inroads with the young professionals and the students."

  "How?" Martin asked skeptically. "They don't really live in those places; they just sleep there. And most of them aren't going to answer the door for you on the weekends."

  David looked at Kasi, nodding after a moment. "But they do take the train and the bus," he said. "And in Allston they'll grab something to eat on Harvard Street and Commonwealth Ave. And let's not forget Western Ave."

  Kasi wagged her index finger. "And in the Fenway they go to Dunkin' Donuts, Starbucks and Brueggers."

  Charlie shrugged. "Fine, but they are not going to take our stuff, and they're not likely to come to the polls period."

  "That's fine," Kasi said. "They just need to know we're there, and eventually someone's going to talk about us, and some of those people are going to vote."

  "Fine," Charlie said, "but if we’re going to give up volunteers for this, then I want to put some more people in Mattapan. They're not going for Chauncy, I can tell you that."

  David twisted his mouth. "No, but aren't they going for Evelyn?"

  Kasi touched her lips. "If we can't figure out her vision, they probably can't either."

  Martin cleared his throat. "Her vision is simple: she’s going to streamline services and invite investment into Boston while improving low-income housing options. It’s a vision, it’s just not revolutionary. Should she be faulted for that?"

  "No, because it’s decent," David admitted. "It’s just not enough."

  "Let's be clear," Charlie said, putting out his hand. "Most of the votes are going to Evelyn, and she won't have to spend much time there to get them. But we want to show our faces there to prove that we want those votes too. It's just like the other places you named; we're going there to get a handful of votes that we might not have gotten before."

  "Let's do it," David said. "We're running against seven people; every vote is going to count."

  ~~~

  Charlie was right; it took much longer to hand out their flyers in Allston and the Fenway than it did in voter-rich Jamaica Plain, Hyde Park, Roslindale or West Roxbury. But every person that did take a flyer felt like a win, and when Kasi and her team had finally finished, they high-fived each other.

  Charlie and David were surprised by the enthusiasm with which they were greeted in Mattapan. Several of the elderly residents whose doors they knocked on invited them in and asked them shrewd questions about what David was going to do for the city, and they wanted to talk about education as much as they wanted to talk about infrastructure.

  "We need to set up a town meeting," David said after their second session. "And Jesus, doesn't Tony ever do anything here? They shouldn't have to wait until a mayoral election to complain about garbage collection."

  "Tony thinks having office hours is a sufficient way of reaching his constituency, and of course he's always open for calls," Charlie said sarcastically.

  David chuckled. "Yeah, I know, you told me how, uh, ‘open’ he was before."

  Charlie grunted. "Let's get back to the office."

  Kasi was sitting in her chair with her arms crossed when they walked in. "What's wrong?" David asked as soon as he saw her.

  "Did you make some kind of agreement with Nelson and not tell me about it?"

  David opened his hand and frowned. "I think we agreed to be introduced in alphabetical order at some of the public events? But that was with all of them. What are you talking about?"
r />   "We were fine the first time we were at Kenmore," Kasi said, "but the second time the kids said they saw a car with a Nelson sign drive by us several times. I looked for it and I waved to them. Just being friendly. We didn't see them after that.

  "Today we were in front of the Bagel Shoppe on Comm Ave in Allston and we see the same car drive by. This time it stops and I am waiting for this guy to come out. Instead it looks like he's on the phone. He drives away. One minute later the owner walks out and tells us that we can't canvass in front of his store. I explain that we had called ahead of time to clear it with the manager and he had said it was okay. Owner tells me what he says goes, and I need to move."

  Charlie was disgusted. "No, you didn't. He can't kick you off the sidewalk."

  "Of course I didn't," Kasi said wearily, "but I figured it was better to move along than make a scene. So we crossed to the opposite corner, went to the Dunkin' Donuts and they said it wouldn't be a problem. We canvassed inside and then went outside to do some more. Well, guess who got out of the car this time?

  "He looks straight past me and walks to my volunteer, who looks like she just graduated from high school. Oh, right because she did. He starts yelling at her to get out of this part of town and that you and Nelson have an agreement and this isn't how things are done. By the time I get to them she's in tears. I tell him to back off—in not so many words—and then he starts yelling at me. I tell him I'm going to call the police if he doesn't stop harassing us, and he says he's going to call Nelson and I'll be lucky to have a job at the end of the day. I tell him that if he has any flyers he's welcome to join us, but unless he has questions about your candidacy, he needs to leave us alone. He screams a little more, stomps off and drives away. I send my volunteer to the car, finish handing out the flyers—which, not coincidentally, went a little bit more quickly—and then we left. Oh, and that girl had better get a call from you by two o'clock today, or I’m going to make you cry."

  "Of course," David said quickly. "I'll call her as soon as we're done. And no, I don't have any kind of agreement with Nelson. First of all, that's stupid; second of all, I would have told all of you."

  Charlie's jaw tightened. "Did someone tell him you did?"

  David raised an eyebrow. "Someone being....?"

  "The guy you were stupid enough to throw in with during the last mayoral race," Kasi said drily.

  David looked around and turned red. "Give me the girl's number—give me her parent's number—and then find Martin," he said through gritted teeth.

  ~~~

  David sat across a booth from Jack Donnelly at a bar at the edge of Southie at nine that night. "Remember primary night four years ago, Jack? Remember making a big statement about how you weren't going to stand for your people being harassed by Cervino? But I'm supposed to sit back while some thug threatens a teenager who volunteered for me? What the fuck?"

  "I had nothing to do with that," Jack said in exasperation, and David believed him. "And I don't think Nelson would have wanted it to go that far either."

  David's mouth gaped open. "Oh really? How far would have been acceptable to him?"

  "David, come on," Jack said after he swallowed his scotch. "Whose idea was it to go out of your zone?"

  "My 'zone'? I don't remember being confined to any particular area when I ran the last time, and I don't remember you doing that either."

  "Who told you to go to Allston and the Fenway? You want to go to Mattapan, that's fine. But Southie? Come on, do you think you're going to do better there than you did last time?"

  David leaned forward. "What I know is that if I don't campaign in places where I'm already not going to do well, I might as well shut this thing down. And I want to know where Nelson got the idea that he could tell me where I can campaign. He's so worried about me getting some votes in those areas? Let him send his own people out."

  "He's not supposed to have to worry," Jack said. "He's only supposed to have to worry about talking about all of the wonderful ways he would like to change our lousy schools, and then talk about how he's got the most logical way to deal with global warming that has everything to do with curbside composting, more recycling bins and backup generators and nothing to do with conservation. And coming up with a way to sell his support for bus lines that are less convenient than both trains and cars." Jack took another swig. "He should not have to worry about you honing in on his territory."

  "You honestly think he's going to win," David said incredulously.

  "Not if you keep campaigning all over Boston!" Jack shouted. David glared, then burst into laughter. Jack laughed too. He called the waitress over. "A scotch for my friend please."

  "It's not that he deserves to win," Jack said an hour later. Amazingly, he still wasn't slurring his words. "But he's done his time, and he's made his splashes. What did you do? What did I do?"

  David was pretty sure that Jack couldn't tell he was only nursing his second drink. "I stayed away from the press even when I could have used them because I couldn't trust them. He knew how to play them much better than I did."

  "You were right," Jack said. "You play the game in the media, they get to decide who you are. Who am I? I'm the spoiled, racist jerk from Southie who spoke out at Boston Public School meetings about how much I wanted neighborhood schools. The press ignored everything I said about how difficult it was for kids to get to bus stops by six in the morning and the importance of building integrated neighborhoods and twisted it to make it sound like 'Southie scion is as racist as the people who threw rocks at black kids in the Seventies'." He took another drink. "And did they mention once—ever—that the guy who busted his ass and risked his professional reputation to get plea deals as a federal prosecutor just might have a different idea about law and order than the mayor who hired a commissioner who was sued by the ACLU and NAACP multiple times?"

  "Jack, I know who you are, and that's why I supported you."

  Jack scoffed. "Every time I got someone who wasn't white to talk me up in the press, the Globe had it that they were an Uncle Tom, because that is how married they were to their own story."

  "What can I say, Jack? John still has his nice dark hair and those nice blue eyes."

  Jack put his forehead on his fingertips. "My God, and he bats those long lashes of his a lot, doesn't he?"

  "You really think he's better for Boston than I am?" David sighed. "You know if I win, I'm still going to offer you a job, right?"

  "Oh man! Gavin's going to love that."

  David almost spat out his drink. "Just tell your wife not to take another swing at him and I think I can smooth it over."

  "Tell him not to contradict her about the rules of poker, and we won't have a problem." Both men laughed.

  David wiped his eyes. "Can you get the son of a bitch off of my staff's back, or do I have to take a swing at someone?"

  Jack rubbed his head. "Yeah, yeah, yeah—but if you were smart you'd take this to the Herald. They already hate Nelson."

  "If they were doing their job this would already have been on their website." David put down his drink. "Come on, Jack. I'll drive you home."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  A week had passed since David's meeting with Jack Donnelly, and they were ten days away from the primary. David's campaign—as well as every other candidate who had a shot—was reaching a fever pitch of activity. Whereas before he had tried to get to five public appearances a day, now he wasn't doing his job if he hadn't made it to ten by noon.

  Kasi grinned when David and Charlie returned to the office to debrief. "You're ahead of Nelson," she said.

  "That's nice," David said before he bit into his food. "Wasn't I running behind him yesterday?"

  "I think it's good news," Charlie said. "It isn't about you winning the opinion poll this week; it's about the continued momentum."

  "Yeah, whatever." David was exhausted. "I just want to go talk to some people. Oh," he pointed at Kasi and quickly swallowed. "Are our signs all set?"

  Kasi
nodded. "We have the signs, we have people to put them up, and if we don't have space we have people to hold them."

  "Good, good," David said before he took a sip of his soda. "And you're coordinating with the LivingWage people?"

  "They can't give out our stuff on Election Day, but they said it was fine if our people had backup literature should their people run out."

  "I cannot believe all of the candidates didn't take them up on their request for an endorsement," David marveled.

  Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Do I need to explain to you why Nelson and Zanuck don't think it's a good idea?"

  "Yeah, they don't want to piss off their biggest donors," Kasi said.

  David shrugged. "Lucy gave money to it."

  Kasi sneered. "What do you want? She also gave money to the Speaker of the House who wants nothing to do with it."

  "Uncool," Charlie said. "I'm eating." They all snickered. "But speaking of things we don't want to talk about, Castillon's people are itching for a statement from you."

  David and Charlie both looked at Kasi. "What?" she barked after a few seconds. "She isn't looking for my endorsement."

  "Aren't you going to help me write it?" David teased.

  Kasi closed the distance between them. "I will shove that sandwich up your—"

  "Okay!" Charlie said. "But seriously, the sooner we get that done, the sooner we can coordinate the lit drops and the signs."

  Kasi fumed. "And you are absolutely sure she's going to keep her word?"

  Charlie sighed. "Her people will, okay? But yes, she's going to be lit dropping with some other people too. Let's face it—she needs the bump more than we do."

  Kasi muttered. David and Charlie couldn't make out everything, but "useless", "treacherous" and "no advantage" were pretty easy to hear.

  "You know why I'm doing this," David reminded her.