Read Online Someone To Believe In by Kathryn Shay - Free Book Online Page B

of a thing.
    When the president announced, “And now I give
you one of New York’s illustrious senators, Clayton Wainwright,”
Clay stood and approached the podium. He’d been touted as one of
the best speakers in Congress, and he really wanted to do well in
this venue.
    Everybody clapped. Including Jon. At center
stage, Clay smiled at the audience. “It’s nice to be here, to speak
to such an enthusiastic crowd.” He glanced to the left. “And
especially since my son asked me to come. As some of you might
know, a twenty-year-old son thinking his dad has something
important to say is a rarity.”
    Jon smiled and the audience laughed.
    Clayton spent ten minutes outlining
Congress’s latest bill to stop fossil fuel burning. He spent ten
more minutes on two other environmental initiatives. He discussed
the ozone layer in upstate New York, because a study had appeared
in the paper about the air in Rochester. After a half hour, he
panned the audience. “I’d like to open this up to questions. I find
the heart of the matter comes out then.”
    Several students had good queries. Several
more asked pseudo-intellectual questions. All about the
environment. Then a blond woman stood. “I was wondering about your
campaign next year, Senator. Will you be emphasizing the
environment in your platform? And what else will be on it?”
    Succinctly, Clay outlined what he’d been
planning for environmental programs. Then he presented some
preliminary information about battered women and teens.
    You’ve copped out on your commitment to
helping kids...
    “And I plan to continue my tough-on-crime
stance with juvenile crime.”
    Hands shot up. He glanced to the side
and did a double take. In the third row sat Eric Lawson. What the
hell was that guy doing here? For a pulverizing moment, Clay feared
his son might have asked his potential opponent to attend. But he
forced himself to think rationally. Despite their differences, he
didn’t believe Jon would do that to him. Just the thought of it cut
to the quick. Calling on his expertise as a speaker, he fielded
other people’s questions; when Lawson continued to raise his hand,
Clay thought, Fuck it, I’m not running from
a fight.
    With his most ingratiating smile, he peered
out at the audience. “You’re in for a treat,” he said. “One of the
wannabe candidates for the New York senate spot next year is in
the audience and has his hand up. I’m going to call on him.” Again
the smile. “This should be interesting.”
    Lawson stood. He was Clay’s height but
thinner. Full head of black hair. Broad shoulders. Did Bailey like
those dark looks? “As a matter of fact, Senator, I have several
questions.”
    To the audience, Clay quipped, “I imagine you
do.”
    The excitement quotient in the room climbed
noticeably. People moved forward in their seats and there was a low
murmur rumbling through the crowd. Clay liked the challenge.
    “What did you think of the article
in Time magazine about the
national trends in anti–youth gang activity? Specifically where it
said traditional methods obviously are not effective.” The man did
a bit of smoozing himself. “And how the reporter cited ESCAPE and
your nemesis the Street Angel as an innovative and progressive way
of helping kids.”
    “I hope your next question isn’t quite as
difficult,” he said. “To answer this one, I will tell you that last
month I had a tour of ESCAPE.” He explained to the audience what
the organization was. “I found them all to be intelligent,
dedicated people. I wouldn’t want to close them down if they were
working within the system.”
    “The article said that’s precisely why they
succeed.”
    “Vigilantes succeeded in stopping crime, too.
That doesn’t mean they were right in what they did.”
    “Surely, you’re not comparing the Street
Angel to a vigilante? No, wait, that would be the epithet she’d
throw at you.”
    A laugh from the audience—at Clay’s
expense.
    “The Street Angel