by Taylor Lee
Clarence held up his hand before Grant could speak. “I already cancelled us for the Laramie debate. I hope you agree, Grant. I left an impression—I didn’t say it outright—but I implied that just as you said, we think that Wyatt bought the Casper crowd. I told Mike Hanson, the guy who set up the debate, that we are happy to debate any time any place, but not with someone who cheats.”
Grant rubbed his chin, trying to keep his temper in check. “Okay, okay. That was smart, Clarence, especially because we know it’s true. So we gotta start buying a few people of our own.”
“You’re right. John and I have already rounded up about twenty men from the Laramie area. They’ll be at that debate tomorrow. Each of the will be ready with a question, the kind that we want asked! Now we did have to pay ‘em more than I would have liked, but, hell, it’s worth it. We want to make sure Wyatt doesn’t get off tomorrow like he did yesterday.”
Grant nodded. “Okay. Thanks. Good to know you’re on top of it. But I want to go back to the fuckin pictures. We can’t let him have that issue. It’s our best weapon. Maybe people won’t say they hate Indians or Chinks to his face, but we know that they do. We need to keep the pictures out there. Make ‘em worse. Christ, have you seen that one they’ve got now? Hell, it’s supposed to be the best looking family alive, but there isn’t a goddamned one of them that’s a real American. They’re a bunch of mongrels!”
“You know, I think you’re on to something, Grant,” Clarence said. “What if we take ‘em on that family picture? It’s obvious what they’re trying to do. Sure, they are beautiful, if you like a bunch of half Indian, half Chink, part white, and different mothers from everywhere. What if we call ‘em what they are? Grant said it. Mongrels! Who wants a bunch of mongrels in the governor’s house?”
“Christ, Clarence, that is pure gold. They’re askin’ what kind of a man I am? Well I’ll sure as hell tell you! I don’t want a bunch of mongrels in the governor’s house. I’m telling you neither do most people from Wyoming. I don’t care what they say to his face. We are not the only ones who feel this way. Remember, it’s a secret ballot. Nobody has to tell who they voted for or why. We have to let ‘em know we understand. It’s okay if you want your governor to be like the rest of us! How about the fact he isn’t even married to that cunt of his? Him saying I’m offending god-fearing –what else did he say—oh yeah, church-going folk. The bastard isn’t even married. He’s just shacking up with her. Let’s hit him with that!”
~~~
Wyatt sat with the newspaper men from around the state. Including the beers before dinner, the dinner itself, and now the time they were spending in the club room of the Laramie Hotel over bourbon and cigars, Wyatt had spent nearly four hours with the five men. Even now, they didn’t seem ready to call it a night.
Tom and Chief were the only people present from Wyatt’s campaign. Tom had also invited Mike Hanson who made the arrangements for tomorrow’s debate. As far as anyone knew, Mike had yet to declare who he was supporting and was quiet throughout the discussion. While Tom had made all the arrangements, got the news men there, arranged for a hell of a dinner, and Chief got Wyatt there—the show belonged to Wyatt.
Joe Chambers, the long time editor of the Laramie Weekly, took a puff off his cigar and looked hard at Wyatt. “This has been a hell of night, Wyatt. I don’t think any of us will pretend otherwise. Every one of us knows you. You’re a sensation in Wyoming politics. Hell, in Wyoming, period. But I gotta tell you this is the first time I feel like I’m seeing the whole man. In the past, every interview I’ve done with you, you were supporting your candidate and talking him up. Now you’re the candidate, and a goddamn impressive one at that.”
Tim Angler, the youngest of the invited guests, nodded in agreement. “I know these other guys have known you for a long time, Wyatt. I’m going to confess something. You all can jump down my throat. I’m from San Francisco. When the Examiner assigned me to Casper, Wyoming, I thought I was being sent to a hell hole of ignorant ranchers and farmers. But tonight, we’ve talked about everything from the Sherman Antitrust Act to why you think Cleveland will be elected. You gave maybe the best explanation of the roots of the free silver movement I’ve heard. You said you’re not a free silver supporter, but haven’t thrown in with the high tariff proponents. How do you describe yourself?”
Wyatt nodded thoughtfully. “I’m a pretty conservative guy. Hell, I’m from Wyoming. Even so, I like a lot about the Populist movement, at least as it pertains to getting rid of corruption and graft. Unfortunately, like all movements, it looks like it’s being captured by the radicals. It’s like the temperance folks. I support them a hundred percent for what they’re doing for women but, damn, leave my bourbon and cigars out of it!”
They all laughed. Will Angler persisted. “I never understood how free silver would affect a state like Wyoming until you explained it. Hell, never in my life did I expect I could ask a Wyoming candidate for governor the price of coal in China and have him know it – and why it will change the way we mine in Wyoming.”
Wyatt grinned and took a puff of his cigar. “Tim, you have to remember. I’m a moneyman. I invest. The reason I’ve been successful is that I invest in the future.”
“Well, yeah, Wyatt. All investors want to do that. How do you know “which” future to invest in?”
“Well, Tim, that’s how you can tell a good investor from a bad one. The good ones invest in the future that pays off.”
He smiled when the men around the table shook their heads and all wrote something down on their notepads.
Will Myers, a crusty rancher turned editor, lit a cigarette and sat back in his chair with a frown.
“Wyatt, I’ve been following you since you bought that land in Colorado nearly twenty years ago and discovered the Leadville silver. Hell, you weren’t even twenty years old. You know I like you and admire you…”
Wyatt laughed. “I think I hear a mighty big “but” coming, Will.”
“You’re right, Wyatt. There is a “but”. You could be the damn smartest man that ever ran for governor, and you probably are. But let’s face it, that’s not what’s being talked about in this campaign. Grant Forrester is determined to make this race about the fact that you’re a half-breed. That Lei is Chinese and her father heads up the largest and without a doubt the most violent Tong in the country. From what I hear, you did a hell of a job turning that around yesterday. But Wyatt, you gotta admit, that’s a mighty hard nut you’re askin the white people of Wyoming to chomp. As we all know, they are the only ones who can vote.”
Wyatt nodded thoughtfully. “We thought long and hard about every one of those issues and more, Will. You also know my violent past. I may or may not be the smartest man who’s run for governor, but I sure as hell have killed the most men, some with my bare hands.
“So why am I running? Because I know the issues inside and out—the real issues—that face the people of Wyoming. I live them on a daily basis. My business success confirms I am a damn good decision maker. As I said to Tim, I have a track record of reading the future and making investments that pay off. Being a horse trainer helps. I’m a patient man. I know how to listen—to look, to listen, to hear, and to learn.
“Every person who has done business with me and all those who have lost in the process, know I don’t cut corners. I don’t take or make bribes. I’ve sent more corrupt politicians and businessmen to prison than any investor in the country. I became a rich man, routing out the corrupt assholes in government and business. That’s what I intend to do in Wyoming. Wyoming deserves an honest governor who is working for the all the people. Not his corrupt buddies and not to get rich off the backs of hard working people. I got rich being honest. I’m going to become governor the same way, by being honest.
“One more thing. Wyoming deserves better than Grant Forrester. He is a bigot and a misogynist. He is also an evil man. Everyone in Wyoming will know who Grant Forrester is by the end of this campaign. Most people already know who I am. They will ma
ke a choice. I believe that they will choose me, not the man Grant is trying to portray himself as, but the man that I am.”
All of the newsmen were writing frantically as Wyatt spoke. A couple of them compared notes to make sure they had everything Wyatt had said at the end. Wyatt looked over at Tom and Chief and winked. Tom was glowing. Chief shrugged, but didn’t try to hide his proud smile.
Tom waited until he was sure they had finished writing, then said, “As you know, we have a debate scheduled at ten in the morning. If may be somewhat one-sided, because our word is that Grant may not show after he got his ass kicked yesterday.”
Mike Hanson smiled and spoke for the first time. “He won’t be here. Clarence Strong sent me a message today. Apparently, you bought the crowd yesterday, Wyatt. Grant will meet you anytime, anywhere, but not if you cheat. At least that’s how it was explained to me.”
“Why did they think we bought the crowd?” asked Chief in surprise.
“Clarence said you seemed to know everyone there, so you must have paid them to come.”
Wyatt’s grin broadened, as if that was possible.
“Well, if knowing people is going to be a problem, then I have a problem. Grant’s right. I did know most of the people there yesterday. I’m likely to know a lot of those who come tomorrow. Hell, I’ve lived here all my life and done business here. Most people do know me. Some of them don’t like me, but a lot of them do. That’s the damndest reason I’ve heard for skipping out on a debate. I think Grant will have to come up with a better reason than that or people might begin to think he is afraid to go toe to toe with me.”
Mike chuckled. “Especially since I have it on good authority that more than a few people who show up tomorrow are gonna have a little extra jingle in their pocket.”
“I think I will know who they are without hearing the jingle,” Wyatt said with a smile. “You know, that proves my point, underscores what I said earlier. All my life, I have come up against the assholes who think they have to corrupt the system to win. Once again, we will prove them wrong.”
~~~
“Okay, Tom. You were right. I’m glad you insisted that I come tonight. It was a terrific meeting. I appreciate you made it happen.”
“Wyatt, it was terrific because you were. I’m telling you, if we can just get you out there in front of people, the voters, press people, you name it—we will win this election. I have yet to see you in front of an audience that didn’t leave impressed.”
“Thanks, Tom. Again, your good political instincts got me here tonight. I didn’t want to come. It’s important that I did. But, you both know I am going to be crazy not seeing Lei. Somehow, we have to get her here so that I can focus on the campaign.”
Chief sat quietly for several minutes, puffing on his cigar. He leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful frown deepened the creases on his brow. “I’m gonna say something because I’m the only one who can say it – except maybe you, Tom. Wyatt, there is no way we can bring Lei into the campaign at this time. I’m not talking about the public campaign. I think we probably can and should do that. Put the children out there, as well. No, Wyatt, I am talking about behind the scenes. The people working on this campaign are all great people. They’re working their asses off to get you elected. But every night there is a wild party that’s as close to an orgy as I’ve ever seen. Hell, with three women for every man, what do you expect? The men keep coming back for more because there is more to come back for. Wyatt, Lei would last one night seeing what is going on. The campaign’s going to get uglier. It will require your best thinking, your focused attention. You need to focus on the campaign. For the time being, Lei needs to stay at home.”
Wyatt and Tom were quiet. They didn’t need to respond. They knew Chief was right.
~~~
The newsmen had been impressed with Wyatt the night before, but even so, were not prepared for him in front of the crowd that showed up for the “debate”.
Tim Antler whispered to the others, “No wonder Grant thought he bought that crowd. He’s been here for ten minutes and he can’t even get up on the stage because so many people want to stop him and talk to him, personally.”
When he finally got to the platform, Wyatt demonstrated again why Grant was wise to stay away.
“Folks, I know you expected a debate this morning, but Grant decided he didn’t want to come. Apparently he thinks I paid you to come. He was afraid of the questions he might get asked. That excuse might cut it in New Mexico, where Grant lives. But, hell, in Wyoming that sounds like a guy who doesn’t want to get his ass kicked.”
The crowd roared. Wyatt took off from there. Wyatt knew how deep the prejudice against Indians and Chinese was. He also knew if he could get them talking about it, he had a fighting chance to reverse it. He and Tom had decided that even without Grant present, they would use the pictures the way they had in Casper. The next twenty minutes proved it was a good decision. If anything, this crowd was more openly angry about the pictures of Lei.
“You are right about that, Wyatt. My nine year old daughter, you know Sally, did see them and has had nightmares. Martha’s had to sleep with her. She’s cried herself to sleep every night. Yesterday, she asked me what I would do if men tried to do that to her.”
“What did you tell her, Maynard?”
“I told her I’d kill ‘em.”
The crowd murmured their angry agreement.
“Wyatt, I don’t know how we can ever get those pictures out of her head. Those sons of bitches have poisoned my little girl for life.”
“You know, Maynard, I felt that way when I saw them. I will be honest, I haven’t been able to look at them since. I don’t know what I would do if Elena saw them. But I will tell you what we all can do. We can make sure that a man who thinks about women in the way that Grant does and is willing for your Sally to see those pictures and my Elena and Slem’s Susan and Pete’s Carrie and Hugh’s Donna,” he looked across the crowd to the faces nodding up in agreement, “We can damn well make sure that son of a bitch does not become the governor of the State of Wyoming!”
There was a roar from the crowd and the applause lasted for several minutes.
One of the men, who had been paid off by Clarence, raised his hand. “But you are an Injun, Wyatt, you can’t deny that.”
“No, Marty, I can’t. I’m not trying to. Hell, I don’t want to sound cocky, but I’m proud of the man I am. I’m a half-breed. I don’t know who my father was and I don’t know who my mother was. Best I can tell, one of them was white and the other was an Indian. But I will tell you the man I do know. It’s Chief over there. Most of you know him, too. Like me, he has helped a hell of a lot of you with your horses. Chief found me when I was seven years old. Someone threw me out when I was a baby. Chief saved me from some bad men who had me, men as bad as Grant. It’s unlikely I would be alive today, much less the man I am, if Chief hadn’t raised me as his son. I think you’ll agree that a man who does that with an abused kid like I was is a good man.
“But do you know what, Marty? Chief can’t vote. The woman I love and is the mother of my children is part Chinese and she can’t vote. Neither can Alono here, the Indian man I adopted as my brother when he was an eight year old abused kid. None of them can vote, because they aren’t white or half-breed like me. But you can. And, Marty, if there was ever an election where you can make your vote count, it is this one.”
Again the crowd roared in approval.
Wyatt grinned. “Hell, Marty, I helped you with your mare when she was sick. I can’t be all bad.”
Marty flushed. “You didn’t just help me, Wyatt. You saved her. No one else could have. Hell, Wyatt, I like you. But it’s like Grant says. You’re still an Injun. I never thought I’d vote for an Injun, but maybe I will. Look, I took money from Grant to say what I said and now I’ve said it. You know I feel bad taking this money. You take it, Wyatt.”
A few in the crowd looked down in embarrassment. Chief and Wyatt exchanged a glance when th
ey saw who some of the men were who had taken money, who must be having second thoughts listening to Marty.
“Marty, the last thing I need is money from a man like Grant. Don’t give it back. Buy something for Kate. Hell, what that woman puts up with—almost as much as Lei has to put up with me.”
There was outright laughter throughout the crowd and Marty blushed even more.
Wyatt grinned and shook his head. “Oh, and Marty, when you give it to her, tell Kate even if I can’t count on your vote, I know I can count on hers. That’s one smart woman you have there. You’re a lucky man.”
Right then, Frank Kendrick, a longtime rancher and friend of Wyatt’s, stepped up.
“I’m tired of this crap about who Wyatt is or isn’t. Every goddamn one of us knows who he is. I’m wondering if you know who Grant Forrester is.
“I wanna know how many of you are paying for water rights. Raise your hands. Okay, that’s almost eighty percent of you. If you think your rates are high you better listen up to what’s happening in Colorado where people are paying Grant for water. How many of you own land in Colorado and pay that son of a bitch for water rights? About twenty of you. Dickie, how many times has Grant raised the rates you pay for that water you can’t farm without?”
“Eight fucking times in the last five years.”
Frank continued. “You know how many times Wyatt has raised the rates on the land I own next door to you, Dick? Once in seven years!”
Wyatt broke in with a smile. “Never like to correct you, Frank, but I’ve only raised them once in ten years.”
“When do you plan to do it again?”
“Not any damn time soon, Frank. Not with you looking over my shoulder.”
The crowd laughed again.
Wyatt grabbed the issue, seeing the opportunity for more comparison. “Frank makes a good point. The way I see it, the more money the men make who buy rights from me, the more land they’ll buy and more water rights I can sell. The people buying from Grant are all going broke. Sure, he is getting his land back, but no one can afford to buy it. He’s losing money. I’m making money. So are the people buying water from me. When we look out for each other, we all get richer. That’s the way it is supposed to work, in business and in government. Government is supposed to help all of us get richer, live better lives. Ask the people in New Mexico if that’s what’s happening there.”
