The Senator
By: Hunter Brown
Dozing Off. 'Why can't I stay awake?' Senator Ed Cassic thought to himself. The rumble of his car engine was too lulling to resist sleep. He had run out of coffee five hours ago. He’d had too much anyway . . .
Wake Up. He'd been on this guy's case for too long. The police wouldn't listen to him, so he took matters into his own hands. He’d done well, though when he first started, he didn't know the first thing about investigating a Senator. He was certain there was something he could find on this guy, then the election would be in his pocket! But after, what would he do about . . .
The tapes. The tapes he hadn’t even gotten to watching yet. The tapes that if anyone found hem, he’d be done for. ‘What would I do with them if I was wrong?’ he anxiously thought to himself. No. He wasn’t wrong. He can’t be. He won’t be. He’s spent too much time and been through too much unnecessary crap to let this fall through.
Ed looked at the time, 3:11.
It was freezing outside. Ed could see his own breath, even from the inside of his car. He wore his thickest jacket but was still nearly shivering.
‘Why am I doing this?’ he thought to himself. ‘I’m such a fool.’
He started to think of Judith. Oh, how he missed her. “No,” he shockingly said out loudly. He couldn’t think about that now. But he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t help but thinking about that night . . . 3 years ago . . .
She was always depressed those days. She also hated the formal, dressy political parties, where everyone put on a face and seemed to hate each other. She seemed to hate politics in general. No matter what Ed said she never seemed to cheer up. He had said he was sorry . . . It was all his fault . . .
He remembered the day clearly now. When’d she’d left him.
“I’m cold,” said Judith.
They’d left the party about ten minutes ago, but they wouldn’t be home until thirty more minutes. The car they were sitting in was moving steadily, The speedometer at sixty. He quickly half-heartedly handed her his dinner coat, and a quick glance.
She wore a navy dress. ‘No wonder she’s cold,‘ he thought to himself.
She stares at him with resentment, expecting some sort of answer.
“Did you enjoy the party?” said Ed.
“I guess,” said Judith, lackadaisically.
Ed looked at her, then he looked down at his wrinkled tie. “Well there’s no reason to be vague about it,” he mumble.
“No, I did not enjoy the party.”
“Why?” He answered quickly, raising his voice a bit. He quickly reassured himself . “I mean- well, that‘s still kind of vague,” said Ed in an irritated voice.
“Well okay, almost all your ‘friends’ are rich, selfish jerks who think of no one but themselves, and they’ve always been like that, even before they got drunk, not to mention you’re probably drunk also. And everyone seemed to know each other except me, which makes me the target of most conversations.”
“They were not drunk, and neither am I.” Ed’s voice rose again in irritation.
“Yeah? Well, Toby seemed awfully tipsy when he called his wife a-“ She stopped herself, nut she spoke again. “But then how about when-” She suddenly feel silent.
“What?” Ed asked?
“I’m so sick of all these stupid fundraisers, rallies and parties we need to go to! I can tell no one really likes each other, and it makes me sick to my stomach. I think you notice too!”
“I don’t have the faintest idea of what your talking about!” said Ed, raising his voice to a yell.
Judith started yelling, on the verge of tears, “Ed! I can’t stand this whole ‘Senator’s Wife’ deal every one gives me! It’s like a label on my forehead! I’m tired, and I know you are too!”
Judith broke down crying, “I’ve been putting on a face for every interview, every broadcast, every speech but I can’t take this anymore!”
“Stop it!” Ed said fiercely. “I know you’ve been stressed, but this is just ridiculous! You think you’re tired? You’ve no idea! Who’s the one that talked in those interviews? Who organized the broadcasts? Who wrote those speeches?”
Judith felt defeated. She fell silent, except for her constant, pathetic sobs.
Ed sighed and said calmly, “Judith I love you, you know that, but-”
Judith was still silent.
“I know we’re both tired, but I’m so close. We’ve just need to push until the end, until the election comes and passes, then we can rest. Everyone is counting on me now though, so I’ve got to-”
“Stop.” Judith interrupted.
“No, I was just going to say-”
“Stop.” She said again with more urgency.
“Judith, I won’t stop. You know I can’t now with all this-”
“STOP!” Judith screamed.
Ed looked forward and rapidly twisted the car to the right. There was a terrible screeching sound coming from the tires, now swerving frantically along the road.
The car flipped to it’s side, then skidded to a stop.
Ed looked around not sure what just happened.
He turned to his side and looked at Judith. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I think so,” she replied quickly, her voice shaking.
Ed sighed, not sure if it was out of relief , or just needing to breath.
Nor Ed’s or Judith’s injuries were serious, a few cuts on their arms or face.
“Give me your hand, I’ll help you get out,” He said. She reached for his hand and found a firm grip. He started pulling.
A light flashed in the corner of his eye, then the yelling of a car horn in his ear.
There was a sudden jolt of a second blow, sending the car whirling.
When the car stopped Ed looked around. His hands were bloody and his face was cut in several different areas, causing blood to trickle down his cheeks. He tried to lift himself up, only to feel a sharp pain in his elbow. His arm had been broken.
He lay back down counting his cuts and bruises.
‘Judith,’ Ed thought to himself. He promptly looked to his right.
Ed gasped. He started to cry.
What he saw he never forgot.
“No, no, no . . .” he wept to himself.
Ed awoke, gasping for breath. His sweat drenched shirt stuck uncomfortably to his skin. He had been dozing off again.
He looked at the time again, 3:57. Still nobody home? Not a suspicious thing in sight.
‘How come nobody believed me?’ He thought. He was so sure that Senator Johnston was a threat, especially with the evidence he had. Yet no one investigated further. He looked into his car mirror, looked into his sweat-covered, unshaven face. He saw the beginnings of psychosis in his left eye, antagonism in the other. Where would Senator Johnston be at 3:50 in the morning? . . . 4:02
“Well,” Ed Cassic inaudibly said to himself, “if he isn’t here now he must not be coming home tonight.”
‘Maybe I should just give up,’ Ed thought to himself. He knew he had no chance in court against a powerful, respected politician. ‘What a waste,’ he thought to himself. He had barely slept for weeks now. He decided to shut his eyes just for a second. Nothing has happened so far, why should anything happen now . . . .
“Darnit,” he cursed at himself. “Darnit!” A car was sitting in the driveway, maybe about fifty yards away. “Now all my work is wasted,” he muttered.
He looked into his binoculars and searched around for something.
The car was definitely not Johnston’s. There were scratches and dents and . . .
Bullet holes.
The car’s lights turned on.
Ed tried to stay quiet as he sat up quickly and started quickly scrambling for his camera. “Where is it, where is it?!” he frantically whispered to himself.
He saw from the corner of his eye a figure walking out of the car. ’Forget the camera, I’ll find it later,’ he quickly decided.
He focused his attention on the one, no, two figures standing outside the car. He wasn’t sure, but was almost positive they were both males. They were talking quickly. One sounded upset. Cassic couldn’t make out their words, but the man on the right was definitely very distressed.
Both men were tall, and well groomed. Both were in business suits. The man on the right was slightly taller than the other. He looked almost exactly like Senator Johnston. Johnston started yelling angrily at the shorter man. Ed made out the words, ‘idiot’ and ‘money’. They paused for a second and stopped arguing.
Ed reached down into his bag and finally found his camera. He looked back, and was ready. The taller man seemed to be carrying a big, black bag. Ed started racing through his mind for what different things could be in that bag. The man dropped the bag and it’s contents spilled out. It was filled with millions of dollars.
“Yes,” Ed whispered to himself. “I’ve finally got it!“ Quickly, he turned his camera on then, shaking, took a picture.
The flash was still on.
“Darnit!“ Ed whispered to himself. He was sure that the men had seen it. He tried his best to duck down below the windshield. His breathing started getting heavier and he started shaking uncontrollably. After about a minute passed he carefully, slowly, lifted his head up.
The shorter man was gone, the car was still there, everything seemed completely the same except . . .
Senator Johnston was staring right at him.
Ed gasped. He anxiously found his keys and turned the ignition.
The car wouldn’t start.
“No, no ,no . . .” said Cassic quickly. ‘What am I going to do now?’ he thought. He tried to start it again, but it still would not budge.
He started thinking of excuses to make when the police come. A tourist lost, a man looking for his dog, someone out on a midnight drive? “No!” He said angrily. Nothing seemed to work. He decided to try one more time.
The car started.
Ed heaved a sigh. He put the gear in reverse and started quickly pulling out. He was picking up speed when he promptly ran into something.
Something blocking his way.
It was a van.
A big, black van.
His mind went racing as he tried another direction, but there was none.
He was trapped.
Ten darkly dressed men ran out of the van and started running towards his car. Cassic thinking desperately of what to do, tried getting out and running for his life.
It was too late.
The men were circled around his car and closing in. One man came up to his window and busted it with a crowbar. Pieces of shattered glass stung Ed’s wrinkled face.
One man dragged him by the shoulders out onto the ground and beat him. He started screaming. “I’ll give you the tapes! I swear I’ll give you the tapes!” He shouted over and over again.
One man punched him straight in the stomach, then in the nose. He tasted his boiling blood, and started weeping. He could barely see as they dragged him into the vehicle, sputtering blood all along the way.
The last thing Ed Cassic remembers from that night is seeing a still, cold body next to him, a heavy blow to his head . . .
Everything went black.
I admit I enjoyed the dialogue, at point its very solid and very personified. The voice for the first half is shot and punchy and works well to develop the world of the senator before things crumble apart. It's not bad, but focus first on editing out grammar errors and spelling errors, of which there are a few, then read the whole piece aloud, remove points that read akwardly and replace them with stronger points. Avoid cliches like these mysterious bland villains and bitchy wives who break down after a few lines of dialogue., etc. This could def be better, and I see your potential. Now you must harness it! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!