The Golden Goose of Los Angeles Extended Edition

by Travis Adams Irish

back to our lives.” She smiles at him, loosening her grip on the steering wheel, reaching for his left hand after a moment and gripping it firmly on top of the center console.

 

  As her SUV rolls up the street, Kelly soon sees a group of reporters staking out Rory’s home. Some of them are relaxing in their vehicles as they wait and others decide to be more cavalier and stand out in the front yard.

 

  “Shit,” Rory sighs with a disenchanted expression, “I thought we took care of this up at the Park?”

 

  “We’ll never take care of this,” Kelly says, squeezing his hand, “at least not until they run out of sound bites to capture.”

 

  The young couple uses the automatic garage door to escape the numerous reporters, but they waive and smile as they retreat into the home.

 

  A few days later, Rory and Kelly find themselves stepping into a fundraiser dinner at the elegant Nautilus Banquet Room in the Coronado Community Center. Kelly is wearing a long, silver satin dress with luxurious golden earrings. Her hair is pulled back into what she likes to call her ‘Goddess of The Nile’ look, which is complimented by a pair of expensive white heels. Rory is wearing the same pinstripe suit and shoes he wore at the hospital press conference a few days earlier. Although, with the advice of his girlfriend, he has elected to go with a messy California hairdo rather than the slicked back look from the previous event.

 

  The fundraiser is already moving right along and the young couple enjoys the scent of freshly cooked barbecue beef ribs and rosemary chicken mixed with the sweet aromas of scented candles that are burning on every table. They smile with satisfaction noticing a large number of security staff present throughout the building and grounds. While the couple strolls through the banquet room, they witness Senators and other VIPs forming their collective social huddles, enjoying the opportunity to do a little personal fundraising.

 

  They make their way toward the patio, maneuvering around several waiters and busboys on their way out of the crowded banquet hall. Rory and Kelly stop on the patio for a moment, admiring Glorietta Bay in the fading sunlight. The water looks serene with a small luxury yacht anchored near the opposite shore. Their gaze stays fixed on this view that reminds them of a gorgeous, living watercolor. Even when they are at the bar, where Rory orders a martini for each of them, they cannot take their eyes off the inspirational sunset.

 

  As Rory spots Governor Hayes talking to a group of well dressed people under the trellis, he leads Kelly by the hand over to listen in on the conversation. Upon reaching the group, they take up a stance just a few yards to the right of The Governor, sipping their drinks as they enjoy the view and the calm breeze.

 

  The Governor is a somewhat portly man in his late forties. He has short, spiked red hair and wears a pair of small, frameless eyeglasses. His formal black suit is drowning him a bit, but his swordfish tie on top of a subtle orange dress shirt displays that he is out to show off his fun side. The man has slightly tanned skin that is predominantly white despite his mixed, black and white ethnicity.

 

  On Hayes’ immediate left is a tall, black man in a light tan suit; he appears somewhat drunk, but is having a good time and keeping his composure nonetheless. Another man stands to The Governor’s immediate right; he is formally dressed in a black suit, and bears Hispanic traits. His appearance is unremarkable as a man of average height and weight, but his calculating stare makes him appear somewhat fascinating.

 

  “That’s just not true,” Governor Hayes snaps at the tall black man on his left. “I would never double down on a bet against the CIA. Those folks have all the coolest sunglasses and the best guns.”

 

  “Oh, you’re on fire tonight, Governor Hayes,” the man replies in a Southern drawl, shaking the index finger of his right hand at The Governor, whilst trying to avoid spilling his white wine with the other hand. “But one thing I’ve always said, and I am absolutely certain of this; there is not a soul in Washington.”

 

  “There is not a soul in Washington who does what?” The smaller Hispanic man asks in a sober tone, staring at the man’s glass of wine instead of looking into his eyes.

 

  “No, that was the end of my sentence.” He deadpans with a bit of laughter, taking another sip of his wine. “There is not a soul in Washington; the place is just a dammed city. As a matter of fact, one day you’ll see a ticker on Wall Street where they are selling off all the souls of The Congressmen who have traded them in. The Wall Street bankers will get all excited for nothin’ and you’ll see this SOUL ticker come up on CNBC, and it will be trading for a penny.”

 

  “I really don’t appreciate that, Senator Sherman,” the Hispanic man responds gently, smiling a little from the corner of his mouth.

 

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Congressman, I didn’t see you standing there; I thought you were a cat.” The Senator quips again. “I didn’t mean to insult Congressman Graham,” he calls out to the sky holding his hand over his mouth. “Did you hear that, Naval Commander Johnson, I did not insult the most dysfunctional branch of Government in History. Call off the drones, Sir, a little white wine doesn’t make me a terrorist.”

 

  “Unless it gives you gas,” Governor Hayes says with a wink.

 

  “Unless it gives me gas,” the Senator repeats a little louder. “In which case, I give Commander Johnson executive authority to strike me down with a hellfire missile.”

 

  “Besides, Senator Sherman,” Congressman Graham begins, furrowing his brow a bit, “we sold our souls to the Chinese; not Wall Street. Unfortunately, now our souls are being reproduced on the black market by fourteen-year-old children who are embedding them into iPods.”

 

  “Well that is a very touching story, Congressman Graham,” The Senator declares with a smug expression, “I would love to read it on a bathroom stall sometime.”

 

  “You’d be hard pressed to find it amongst your acceptance speech last fall for that humanitarian award. What was that award called again; the honor for any guy who spends money on libraries?”

 

  “Kind of like the speech you gave for winning that award to provide an endless supply of green energy?”

 

  “What are you getting at, Senator?” Congressman Graham asks with a suspicious smile.

 

  “I mean all that currency you’re printing in Washington. That’s an endless supply of green energy. During your House sessions I know that you easily burn five million dollars of American money just to stay warm. Just toss those on into the fireplace Congressman; don’t never mind the single moms in Detroit. It’s an endless supply of green energy because now that you all are in charge, none of it is worth a damn anyway.”

 

  “Gentlemen, we’re here to raise money, not voices,” Governor Hayes declares, stepping between the two men. “And if we’re burning currency to stay warm, it better be North Korean currency.” The Governor smiles at both men, and then turns his attention to Rory and Kelly. “Rory Chambers,” he says with an outstretched hand, please come and join us.”

 

  Rory and Kelly nervously approach the three men, weaving between a few patrons and staff members until they reach The Governor’s small group.

 

  “Pleased to meet you, Governor Hayes,” Rory says with a bright smile, “this is my girlfriend Kelly.

 

  “You mean your far better half?” The Governor replies with a quick wink, shaking each of their hands. “This gentleman on my left is Senator Sherman; you’ll find him on the far left or the far right; maybe even flat on his back if he’s had enough to drink. To my right,
” he continues, gesturing toward the Hispanic man, “is Congressman Graham.”

 

  “That reminds me of a joke,” The Senator evokes with a serious expression as he shakes hands with the couple. “A Governor, a Congressman, and a Senator all walk into a bar. The bartender says, ‘What can I get you?’ The Senator says, ‘I am just a humble public servant, could I get one of your drinks named after me?’ ‘No problem,’ the bartender says. Then the beady-eyed Governor steps up,” he continues, taking a quick drink, and placing his hand on the Governor’s shoulder. “Where was I?” He asks with a smile.

 

  “You were at the best part,” Governor Hayes prompts with a grin, “talking about The Governor.”

 

  “Right, so The Governor walks up with his beady little eyes and says, ‘I’d like this bar named after me; could you do that?’ ‘Sure thing,’ the bartender says. Then to everyone’s surprise, The Congressman just sits down and asks for a glass of water. The Senator and Governor look at each other with puzzled expressions. Then finally The Governor asks. ‘Didn’t you want something named after you?’ The Congressman just shrugs his shoulders and says, ‘the bartender is already named after me; he’s my illegitimate child.’”

 

  The Congressman rolls his eyes slightly at the joke while the Senator and Governor enjoy a hearty laugh.

 

  “He’s here all night,” Hayes says with a smile, turning his attention to Rory. “Now Mr. Chambers has had quite the week from what I understand.”

 

  “Yeah, a little hiking, a little abduction,” Rory says with a confident smirk.