Read Online Eddy's Current by Reed Sprague - Free Book Online Page A

you’ll ever know. You probably should leave now. I hate politics.”
    “What’s your name, sir?”
    “My name is Mr. Nobody.”
    “I don’t believe that, sir.”
    “I don’t matter any longer, son. I’m seventy–six years old, and I’m a has–been and an outcast, and I’ve been in this wooden shack for twenty years. I plan to stay here and live out my remaining time on this earth away from you loonies, hopefully no longer than a year or so, then die and be buried in my backyard, face down. Do I have to explain to you why I plan to be buried face down?”
    “No, sir. You don’t have to explain. I think I know why. You know what? I like you. Seriously, is there anything I can do for you? I’m making notes of each conversation I have with my future constituents so that I can represent their needs in congress. I’ve written down your address. Please give me your name, and tell me succinctly how I can represent you in congress.”
    “Soon I won’t need representation in congress. I’ll escape just in time, right before the damn Mexicans and Africans complete their takeover. Lucky me; I have to get out before the rest of the Americans because Florida is obviously being taken over first. Is that why you were sent here? To tell me to get out so the Mexican cavalry can take my house from me? Or are you representing the Africans? You could pass for either.”
    “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t get your name.”
    “Is your hearing okay, son? It’s obvious that I don’t want to give you my name. And it’s obvious that I’m doing everything I can to get rid of you. Is it even possible to offend or discourage you so you’ll leave? If I haven’t used the right words yet that will cause your ass to scoot on down the road, please tell me precisely what the required words are so I can get rid of you.”
    “My hearing’s fine. What’s your name, sir?”
    “You have the most offensive accent I have ever heard. Where in the hell did you learn to speak English? Mexico City?”
    “You have an accent as well, sir. Yours is not offensive to me. I’m sorry that mine offends you.”
    “My accent is American,” Dominici replied.
    “As is mine.”
    “Do you promise to leave and never return if I give you a name?”
    “Not just any name, sir; I need your actual name—and please tell me what your concerns are.”
    “Man, you really are a pain, aren’t you.
    “If you’re not going to leave, come on up to my front porch and sit down, and we’ll talk. But under one condition: I give you a few minutes, then you leave and promise never to bother me again. Do you agree to that?”
    “No. I don’t agree to that. I would enjoy talking with you, though.”
    “Okay, let’s go up on the front porch and get this over.
    “Listen to me, son; before I give you my name I’m going to give you a short lecture. Get out of politics. Do you hear me? Get out and get out now. I can already tell that you’re sincere about political service, so get out. It’s not about sincerity today. It’s about money—big money. It’s about TV ads and creating modern day messiahs. Or it’s about the other extreme, creating modern day devils. Whoever has the most money becomes the messiah. Second place goes to the devil. It’s really that simple. You’ll get nowhere. I can tell that you’re a good man. Get out before it ruins you.”
    “What’s your name, sir?” Alex asked.
    “On top of the other problems you have that I’ve outlined for you, there is no question in my mind that you are completely deaf.”
    “I can hear better than you might believe. What’s your name?”
    The man extended his hand, but with no smile at all, “Cole Dominici; my nickname is Dom. My friends used to call me Dom.”
    “May I call you Dom?”
    “No, you may not. Nobody calls me Dom.”
    “You just told me that your friends called you Dom.”
    “That’s right. Then I told you that nobody calls me Dom. Put those two statements together, and then