Friday, May 9, 2008
Teresa Santiago was ready to jump ship to another presidential candidate. But was she ready to commit political espionage?
Apr 23, 2004 | Teresa Santiago, somewhat disillusioned by the workings of the Kapucinski campaign, was now sitting in the backroom at the Rob Jones regional headquarters, looking into the too-blue eyes of Gerald Vidisson, listening to him explain the job he wanted her to do, while also thinking of her junior prom.
She had gone with a boy named Gerald. What was his last name? Matsui. Gerald Matsui. He was not handsome, not tall, but he lifted weights and had a pleasing physique. Teresa didn't know him well, no one did -- he'd moved into town only four months before, and left a week after the school year ended. Gerald Matsui. He'd kissed her for an hour on the roof of the Doubletree Hotel, in whose ballroom the prom had been held. For an hour he kissed her too softly -- he thought that was sensual, probably, but for Teresa it was exasperating, just trying to keep her mouth attached to his -- though the night was very warm and in the end she really didn't mind. The next day, when her friends recounted tales of horror, of vomiting and failed attempts at intercourse, broken waterbeds and entanglements with shrubbery, she felt fortunate that with Gerald, whom she would never know well, she'd had a harmless and almost perfect prom night. And a perfect prom night, she knew then and appreciated so much now, was hard to come by.
Vidisson was still talking. He was describing something he wanted Teresa to do, something called "franking."
"Did you officially quit working for Kapucinski?" he asked.
"No," Teresa said, climbing slowly out of her reverie. "I just wasn't planning on going back."
"Well, Teresa?"
Vidisson looked at her with those eyes, the color of the underwater portion of an iceberg. They were almost electric with intended meaning. After a moment, Teresa realized he wanted some kind of utterance from her.
"Yes, Gerald?" she said, though hating to use that name. She wanted to remember the other Gerald, and not have the name diluted with this person in front of her, whose tuna and hummus sandwich emanated from his breath like a train emanates from a tunnel.
"Do you believe in what we're trying to do here at Rob Jones for President?"
"I think so," Teresa said. "But I've only read the one pamphlet. It seemed fine."
"It's more than fine, Teresa. I can tell you that. It's more than fine. It's so fine that -- did you happen to see the rally the other day, in Lincoln?"
"No, I missed that."
"What you missed, Teresa, was seeing, standing right by Rob Jones' side, one of the greatest actresses we have here in America. Heck, anywhere."
"Were they filming a movie?" Teresa said. Teresa loved movies.
Gerald Vidisson's iceberg eyes melted a bit.
"I guess you could say that. I guess you could say that they were filming a little movie called 'The Future of America.' Are you interested in helping with that movie, Teresa Santiago?"
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