Chapter I

The wind was blowing and a slight mist was in the air this January, Inauguration Day in the Nation's Capitol. Newly elected President Sonny Harrison was in the bedroom of the White House dressing for the ceremony. Being here now was the realization of his life long goal. When he was a child, he watched the Presidential Inaugurations on the television with great interest. He would imagine himself on the podium, giving a great speech; he was the one everyone was watching, the one being sworn in. In a few minutes that dream would come true.

As Sonny fumbled with his tie, looking in the bathroom mirror, he saw the familiar face of a strange little man. How did he get in here? Sonny thought, I didn’t see him go by behind me. Sonny knew the man; they had met in a hotel room many years ago. “I wanted to thank you," Sonny said.

“Just doing my job," the man said, “now, its time for you to pay us.”

“No, not now!” Sonny growled through clenched teeth, “I’m about to have everything I ever wanted. Please let me have just a little while longer. I’ll give you what ever you want.”

“We need our payment.”

“Please," Sonny said, "just a little more time."

“I will have to check with the Boss,” the man said calmly. “I'm sure he won’t give you more than, say, an hour?"

“Okay, okay. Give me what you can,” said Sonny, not making eye contact with him.

“Honey” said a woman's voice from down the hall, “are you about ready. We only have 30 minutes and David needs to talk to you before the ceremony.”

"It's my wife, you have to go," Sonny hissed.

“Very well, you have an hour,” said the strange man.

“Are you alright?” Nancy asked, appearing in the doorway.

“Yeah, yeah,” snapped Sonny, turning toward the door. “I'm almost ready; I can't get this damned tie to cooperate.”

“Here,” she said, “let me help you." Taking the tie in her hands and tying it perfectly on the first try.

“Thanks,” said Sonny, looking around. The man had disappeared, leaving only a small pile of ashes where he had once stood.

Sonny shook his head and snorted, he was relieved that someone had steady enough hands to tie a necktie. He tried not to show his nervousness, the little man shook him up. But nervousness was not Sonny’s style. He was the calm, unflappable type. He could handle anything, which is how he got this far. He could let nothing bother him.

Nancy smiled gently at her husband as she straightened the tie. She could see through his façade; she knew him too well. She knew this was what he had been planning for his entire life and that he had every right to be nervous. She also knew that if she said anything he would deny it. So she kept her comments to herself, as always. “There,” she said patting him on the chest, “all finished." It’s not right for the First Lady to bring up things the President doesn’t want to hear at a time like this, she thought. I can wait until later to tell him that his little act is not fooling anyone.

Sonny looked in the mirror and smoothed the well-kept blonde hair that he insisted on dying to accent the distinguished gray streaks. “Perfect,” he said, “let’s go.”

They walked from the Presidential Bedroom arm in arm.

Members of Congress and the Press were milling about on the main floor, exchanging pleasantries and small talk in the reception area.

Everyone fell silent when the President-elect and future First Lady appeared on the balcony. Slowly Nancy and Sonny made their way down the spiral staircase.

Out of habit Sonny put on his winning smile, feigning sincerity. “Good day my friends,” he said as he waved to the crowd.

“Mr. President! Mr. President!” Reporters shouted as they crowded around the foot of the stairs. Secret Service agents lined the stairs and surrounded Sonny like a barricade.

“Gentlemen, ladies, please,” Sonny said through the crush of Secret Service, “enjoy the refreshments; we have a press conference scheduled for later. I'll answer all of your questions at that time.”

Mumbles came from the crowd, but they politely let the President descend into the room.

“Get the Press out of here,” Sonny whispered to a Secret Service Agent at his side.

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” said the agent nodding to his counterparts. This was the queue for them to gently escort the reporters out of the room.

Sonny breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he said, to a remaining Secret Service Agent.

The Agent smiled slightly. “That’s what we’re here for, sir.”

Sonny nodded in approval.

The remainder of the guests returned to their conversations as Nancy and Sonny pushed their way through the large State Dining Room that was used for the reception. Sonny smiled and shook hands with numerous people on the way.

Nancy followed quietly, smiling and nodding politely.

Sonny made his way to the front door. Outside, chairs had been set up on the porch in preparation for the Ceremony. David Potter, Sonny’s press secretary, met him there.

“Excuse me, Mr. President,” said David.

“Mr. President,” sighed Sonny, “that has a nice ring to it.” He allowed his mind to savor the sound. He smiled even broader; this time is was sincere. “What do you need David?” He said at long last.

“I just wanted to go over the agenda with you," David said gesturing to a pair of chairs in the first row, “but, first sit down.”

Nancy took a seat in the chair furthest down the row.

“Okay,” Sonny said as he sat on the cold metal chair. He was not particularly interested in the agenda, which must have shown on his face.

“First,” David said keeping it short, “there will be speeches from the different dignitaries, and you know, the usual. Then Robert will be sworn in, and then it’s your turn. Just do what the Chief Justice says and everything will be fine. You got that, Sonny?”

“Uh huh, I think so,” he said forcing a smile, “thanks, pal." Wow, he thought, I can't believe I'm here. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. As the rest of the crowd began to file onto the porch, Sonny reflected back on how he came to be President of the United States.

Chapter II

A young man, Sonny Harrison, was taking extra long steps today. It was the last day of school and he was in a hurry to start the summer. Not that he had any great plans; he just wanted to get away from school. It had been another long year. His best friend, Ron Ellison had become interested in politics and lost interest in most everything else. Politics was all that Ron ever talked about. The two boys, who had been best friends since third grade, drifted apart. Sonny had no real interest in things political.

Sonny had only one other friend, Carol Showalter, who, being a girl, could not understand his feelings. He could not confide in her the way he could in Ron. Another reason he could not express his feelings to Carol was that he had a terrible crush on her. His shyness always got in the way and made him act like a fool when he tried to talk to her seriously. Instead, he would crack jokes and try to appear worldly. She liked that, Sonny hoped she liked him too.

“Hey, Sonny,” said Ron, running to catch up with him, “what are you doing for fun this summer?”

“Nothing,” said Sonny, “Mom signed me up for swimming lessons again, but otherwise nothing else. What about you?”

“I’m going to do some doorbelling for the Nixon campaign.”

“Oh," Sonny said flatly.

“You want to help out?”

“Uh, I don’t know.”

“It’ll be fun,” urged Ron, “come on; besides anything beats swimming lessons again.”

“True,” said Sonny, pausing to give the proposition some thought, “okay, what can I lose.”

“Great,” said Ron, “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

“Now? Why so soon?”

“No need to waste time. We have to work to get every vote we can. They all count, you know.”

“Yeah,” Sonny sighed. Jeez, he thought, Ron is really going overboard with this. He even wants to run for office when he gets out of school. I guess I could help him for a short time, just to hang out with him. This is going to be a great summer the two of us I together again, just like old times.

The more the summer wore on, the more Sonny enjoyed it. He discovered that politics was exciting, enticing and fun. To think, a few months ago he thought it was stupid and boring. He had finally found a place where he was accepted for himself. Me, he thought, Sonny Harrison, a geeky kid from Seattle can actually make a difference. I don’t ever want this to end.

All too soon it was Election Day. The two boys had been working so hard on the campaign. They were not going to miss the big party at the end, no matter what the outcome. The night of the party, Ron would borrow his mother’s car and drop by Sonny's house. The two would take one car, that way Sonny's mom would not need to go out in the cold rain that had been falling all day.

Sonny waited on his front porch, impatiently for Ron. However, the appointed time came and went and Ron did not show up. Sonny felt as though he had been stood up. Sadly, he asked his mother to take him to the party. He asked about Ron when he got there, but no one had seen him.

Later, Sonny asked one of the campaign workers, if Ron had called.

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “I’m sure he’s just delayed.”

“I don’t know," sighed Sonny, “he should have called.”

“Then don’t worry, everything is going to work out," she said, “Nixon is winning by a landslide, and we’re back for four more years!”

Sonny smiled and nodded. “Four more years,” he said. He tried to conceal his concern for his friend.

By the end of the party, Ron had still not arrived. Sadly, Sonny called his mother for a ride home. As he waited in the driving Seattle rain, he thought about how much fun it had been the past few months and how he did not want it to end. He wished Ron could have made it to the party, but there must have had a good reason. Just as the rain began to soak through to his jacket, he saw the familiar headlights of his mother’s car.

“Hi, Mom,” he said cheerfully, as he got in the car.

“Sonny,” she said seriously.

“Mom? What’s wrong?”

“There’s been an accident,” she began, “Ron’s car slipped off the wet road and ran into a tree.”

“Is he all right?”

She shook her head slowly. “He was killed instantly,” she said, “I’m sorry, Sonny.”

He stared at her in disbelief.

She nodded slowly.

He sighed and said nothing else, the entire way home. He just stared out at the rain running down the window in front of him. Ron is dead, he thought, my best friend in the world is dead. I don’t believe it.

For the next few months, Sonny wandered around, his mind in a fog. As hard as he tried, he could not reconcile the fact that he was alive, and his friend was dead. In an effort to hide from the loss, Sonny became increasingly involved in politics and the Republican Party.

As time wore on, the news of the Watergate break-in and coverup became public. The Nixon administration was devastated and soon the President was forced to resign. Sonny was dismayed. He knew that he, Sonny Harrison, would make a better President than anyone so far.

He resolved, in honor of his late friend Ron, that he would become President of the United States. From that day forward, nothing was important unless it related to reaching that goal.

Sonny participated in Student Government and was elected Student Body President two years in a row. He was active in local politics and helped the Republican Party the whole time he was in High School.

After graduation, he enlisted in the Air Force for four years. He reasoned that all of the good Presidents had served in the armed forces.

He was going to be the best.

His service left a positive impression on him and gave him the confidence to get back into politics when he returned home. The Party was more than happy to have his help, although no one thought he would have a chance running for office. Soon, he surprised everyone and announced that he would seek the recently vacated 34th District seat in the State House of Representatives. There were members of the Party that thought he was crazy. But one prominent member, Governor Tom Stevens, felt that Sonny had potential and wanted to exploit it. He took Sonny under his wing, and soon they became best friends.

“Sonny, my boy,” Tom said one night over dinner, “I was like you once.”

Sonny raised one eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes, young and ambitious.”

Sonny nodded.

“I think your chances in this race would be greatly improved, if I were to give you the benefit of my knowledge, as well as my full support.”

Sonny was taken aback; he did not expect the Governor to give him his support. Since, even the Party was not in full support of him.

“You would do that for me?” Sonny asked solemnly.

“Of course, son,” said Stevens, “I think you have the potential to be a good Legislator. Besides, in this business, it never hurts to have the Governor on your side, right?”

“Right, I would be proud to have your support and expertise. Thank you, sir.”

“Please, don’t be so formal, my boy. You can call me Tom.”

“Okay, Tom. Thank you," he said, as the two men shook hands.

This will be a great boost to my career, thought Sonny. He sighed as the two men began to discuss political action.

Sonny had worked on many campaigns, but had never run one himself. About two weeks into the campaign he was getting in over his head and knew it. He invited his long time friend Carol Showalter to his home for a chat.

“Carol,” he said, “this campaign is getting rough. I don’t mind telling you; I don’t know what I’m doing. This is harder than running for Student Body President.”

“Of course it is,” she said gently, “but the principal is the same. You have to get your name and face in front of the voters. The key to success is name recognition.”

Sonny nodded. “Have you seen my posters?” He asked eagerly.

“The posters are a good start,” she said, “but you need a strategy.”

“Can you help me? I’m not really a good planner.”

“Sure, I can,” she said, “first we need to make brochures to take around to the homes. Then we need to get some volunteers to help. Then we . . .”

“Stop,” he said holding up his hand, “I don’t care how you do it. Just tell me what to do and where to go. You can do the rest.”

“What about money? This is an expensive game you know.”

“I have some saved.”

“Okay, that’s a start.” She nodded.

“Then, you’ll be my campaign manager?”

“Are you asking me?”

He nodded.

“In that case, yes, I will.”

“Tom said you would. He thought you’d be good at it.”

“Tom Stevens recommended me?” She said with surprise.

“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I need to talk to him about that," she murmured, “well, where do I begin?”

Sonny smiled. “Could you start by organizing my files?” He said pointing to the pile of papers that covered the dining table and overflowed on to two of the chairs and the floor.

“Your mother is getting upset with the mess, I take it," Carol said.

Sonny nodded, sheepishly.

“Okay,” she said surveying the mess, “I’ll do it for you. But, I need a few things.”

“Fine, you name it,” he said as they cleared a space on the table to work.

“First a large file cabinet, and…” she began.

“Wait a minute,” Sonny interrupted, "why don’t you just write it down and I’ll go get what you need?”

“Okay,” she said grabbing a pencil and note pad.

Everything is going to be all right, Sonny thought with a sigh of relief.

During the four months that followed, Tom Stevens and Sonny became closer. Sonny spent many evenings with him, learning which campaign strategies worked and which ones did not. Stevens treated him like a son. The Party did not appreciate all of the attention Stevens was giving Sonny. They thought the whole idea was foolish, and that Sonny was the fool. But, Stevens managed to convince them that he could make Sonny into a good politician that would follow the party line. The Party gave Stevens the benefit of the doubt, but still watched and waited cautiously.

Carol Showalter worked night and day as campaign manager, getting mailing lists prepared, sending flyers, and coordinating events such as coffee hours. She was good at her job and Sonny was content to let her do it. His strategy paid off. In the fall, much to the Party’s amazement, Sonny was elected to the State House of Representatives by a narrow margin. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

The Republican Party officials were glad to have Sonny in Olympia; his election propelled them into the majority. He followed the Party platform and adhered to the Party ideals. He voted with the other Republicans on most issues. Stevens had advised him that this was a good strategy, because it would gain him favor with the Party. Sonny never told his mentor that the State Legislature was only the first step in his master plan.

Two years later Sonny announced his intentions to run for the 34th District Senate seat. Stevens was supportive, although surprised. He was up for re-election and did not want his association with Sonny to hurt his chances. He advised Sonny to stay where he was, not to try to do too much to fast. But, Sonny did not listen; he had his sights set on something bigger.

He asked Carol Showalter to be his campaign manager again, for this race. She accepted.

“It’s a good thing I’m not doing anything,” she said. “My job allows me to help your campaign.”

“You have a good boss,” Sonny said, “where do you work, again?”

She grimaced. “The phone company.”

“Right.”

The campaign took its toll on Sonny and Carol. Both were becoming drained from the long nights and hard work. The day before the election Sonny ordered flowers to be delivered to Carol at work. The note read: You’re the greatest. Let’s do dinner on Saturday.

That evening when Sonny and Carol met to finish the campaign, Carol said, “thank you, for the flowers, Sonny. They were beautiful. All the girls at the office were jealous.”

Sonny blushed deeply.

“I’d be honored to go out to dinner with you on Saturday," she said.

“You would?”

“Of course.”

“Great," he stammered, “how’s seven?”

“Fine, I’ll be ready.”

“Okay," he said, staring into her blue eyes.

“Yes, umm, let’s get down to business," she said.

“Oh, right," he sighed as they began to discuss the campaign.

Sonny won the election by a healthy margin, thanks to Carol’s hard work. He took her to dinner the next Saturday to thank her properly. The date was a disaster. He tried to make everything perfect, but instead it was the worst night of his life. He dumped a whole plate of spaghetti in her lap then he poured red wine on her beautiful green dress. She was very angry. When he dropped her off at home she was crying. He never forgave himself for being such a clod, even though Carol eventually did.

Carol’s help had secured the Senate seat; Sonny knew that. The lack of help from Stevens, on the other hand was an obstacle, one to be overcome before Sonny could realize his dream.

The next spring, Sonny announced his intentions to run against the incumbent U. S. Senator. Stevens, having won re-election reiterated his advice not to try to move too fast. Even the Party officials advised against running, stating that he was not ready for such a big step.

Carol knew the real reason the Party and Tom Stevens did not want Sonny to run for the U.S. Senate. She tried to express it as carefully as possible one evening at a strategy meeting. “Sonny,” she said gently, “your personality just isn’t right to handle the pressures of Washington.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, somewhat insulted.

“I mean, it takes a certain type of person to stand up to those people.”

“Yes?” He said waiting for an answer.

“Sonny,” she said carefully, “let’s face it, you’re too nice.”

“Too nice?” He said with an eyebrow raised.

“You don’t have the people skills that inspire the voters.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Voters are intimidated by your enthusiasm,” she said honestly, “they want some one who will get the job done and not abandon the office for something better.”

That last statement hurt Sonny to the core. He knew he was trying too hard, but he could not abandon his dream. She would not understand; she never understood him. “You know me better than that,” he said.

“I know, but how do they?” She asked earnestly. “You haven’t been in any office long enough to prove yourself.”

“I don’t need that,” he said defensively, “I can win on my own merits.”

“You still have to relate to the voters," she reminded.

“I can do that.”

She shrugged; she knew she would never get through to him.

“I’ll help you the best I can.”

“Great, let’s get started.”

They spent most of the spring and the entire summer campaigning. They held coffee hours, and rallies. He walked every district in the state ringing doorbells, and met with the voters every chance he got. Because, the Party could find no one to run against him, by the Primary Election, he was a shoe in for the Republican nomination. They did not hold out any hope that he would win. They were not going to help him either.

The incumbent, a Democrat, had been in the Senate for an unprecedented 6 terms. Sonny felt that thirty-six years in the Senate had caused the old man to lose touch with the people. Sonny was confident of victory. He felt that he and he alone knew what the people wanted and could give it to them. Sonny changed his slogan from **Sonny Harrison for ** to Sonny Harrison: A man who knows what you need.

Carol was not happy with the change but said nothing.

It was up to Sonny, if he wanted to try something new.

Stevens made it known that he would not support Sonny, early in the race and the Republican Party followed suite. Sonny was left with no support, and no money. Carol was his only help. Unfortunately, she had to work more hours at her regular job to make ends meet, since Sonny could not pay her. This forced Sonny to do most of the work himself.

The Senate campaign was long and hard. The General Election was less than a month away. Sonny worked constantly. He stuffed envelopes and doorbelled during the day and at night he attended rallies and meetings.

Sonny and Carol often debated issues and disagreed, but she was a good organizer and knew what she was doing in the campaign. She always came through for him.

This time was different for Carol though; she was not convinced that Sonny could win. Secretly, she liked the incumbent Senator and did not want to see him defeated. But, she was a professional and Sonny's friend. She would not let him down.

The week before the Election Sonny knocked on Carol’s door very late.

“Yes,” she said answering the door, sleepily, “Sonny! What are you doing here?”

“I’ve got to talk to you,” he said.

“Okay, come on in.”

He stepped through the door and flopped into a kitchen chair.

“Coffee?” She said.

He nodded. “Carol, I’m afraid we’re losing," he said after a long pause.

“It’s going to be all right,” she said gently as she poured some coffee into his cup.

“Really? Look at today’s paper," he said, tossing the paper on the table. It opened to the front page. The headline read: Harrison Supports Increase in Nuclear Power Plants, Sites Windmill Power as Dangerous.

“Sonny,” she said carefully, “you did say that.”

“I know,” he said, “but I didn’t mean it.”

“What part didn’t you mean?”

“All of it, no none of it," he stammered. “Oh, I don’t know.”

“Then,” she said sitting across from him, her hand on his, “tell me what you did mean.”

“I meant that windmills take up too much space and are not cost effective.”

“And nuclear power?”

“It might be worth investigating as an alternate energy source.”

“Sonny, that’s what the article says.”

“But the headline?”

“It’s okay,” she dismissed, “nobody reads that stuff anyway.”

“If you say so," he said with a sigh.

“I do, now go get some sleep,” she said, looking toward the door, “we have a busy day tomorrow.”

Sonny stood and stepped just across the threshold. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said.

“Good night, Sonny,” she said as the door closed.

“Right,” he said to the door.

To Sonny’s chagrin, the article had an adverse effect on the campaign. Every time someone saw Sonny they would ask him to clarify his stand on windmill power. One particular political cartoonist portrayed him as Don Quixote. None of which helped the campaign. Two days before the General Election the polls predicted the incumbent to win by a landslide. The papers ran another less than flattering article concerning Sonny’s family life.

Carol raced into Sonny’s dining room, turned office, with the paper in hand. “Did you see the paper today?” She asked.

“Yes," he said sadly, “I thought we had agreed to run a clean campaign.”

“We did, but our opponent seems to think he doesn’t have to.”

“Well, all of this nonsense is false. I’ve never owned a dog. How on Earth could they accuse me of kicking my dog? And what’s this about beating my wife? I’m not married, not even involved!”

“We’ll get a retraction, and an apology,” she said forcefully.

“It won’t work that fast," Sonny said sadly.

“We could always smear back," Carol offered.

“No,” said Sonny emphatically, “I won’t do it! I don’t believe in dirty politics. We can win without resorting to smear tactics. What else can we do?”

“I have an idea,” she said, “a front page story.”

“About what?”

“This. It’s obviously false; it’s obvious that you’ve been libeled. I’ll get Mark and we’ll file a lawsuit and…”

“No. No lawsuits.”

“Okay, we’ll threaten a lawsuit,” she suggested.

“Will that make the front page?” He asked.

“Yes. I happen to know the political editor at the Times. He’s been asking me out since the campaign started.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Yes, Sonny,” she nodded.

“You’re wonderful,” he sighed.

The Election Eve headlines in the Times read: Challenger Harrison to Sue Incumbent Senator Duncan for Libel.

Carol put the paper on Sonny’s desk. “I hope this works,” she said.

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