Chapter 1

“Hey, do you have time to talk about the election?” I heard a very soft, playful voice address me from behind in the outside patio of the cafe.

“Sure, why not? I just got stood up ... after taking a long break from the dating scene. Mind you, things are a bit on the crazy side these days. Might as well enjoy what’s left of normalcy while it’s left. We just barely get to reopen in this area ... and then this happens ... in one of the few restaurants to survive the lockdown. This other business ... it’s not helping, to put it mildly,” I grimaced.

“Fair enough ... and that’s what I mean ... I’m hungry ... I’ll pay for my own meal,” the young lady assured me as she sat down with me.

“That’s good. One never knows anymore. Many people are just so strapped for cash these days, even after the last election. It’s ... just ... well, you know how it is. Let’s just say that I don’t have much optimism that this election will make a huge difference,” I ranted rather candidly.

“Are you a Republican, a Democrat, or an independent? By the way, I’m Becca Barber,” she introduced herself formally and rather politely as she inquired of me.

“Wait ... who are you with?” I demanded.

“Williams for Governor,” she answered honestly now, much to my relief ... I hated people with hidden agendas.

“L. Alton Williams. The Democratic candidate for Governor of Virginia. Fits. You’re talking about this odd-year gubernatorial election, then,” I clarified.

“Precisely,” she smiled awkwardly.

“Frank Stein. No relation to Jill,” I cut the tension with some humor.

“Jewish?” Becca wondered.

“Reform and secular, but yes,” I grinned as we ordered our meals and she got her drink.

“A.M.E myself,” Becca informed, “not very pious, though. I go on Christmas and Easter, things like that.”

“African Methodist Episcopal, right?” I referred to the full name of the predominantly black Christian denomination.

“Exactly,” Becca acknowledged, “Dad was a Black Muslim, though. It made the marriage tough for Mom and the divorce only a matter of time.”

“Are you a registered Democrat?” I asked her now.

“Yes, indeed. I worked for the Virginia Democratic Party for a time and also for the Warren campaign. I switched to Sanders briefly after she dropped out,” Becca explained with a wink.

“Well, I’m an independent who likes guns, single-payer health care, gay rights, abortion rights, UBI, and hates war. I’m not woke. I don’t like the war on drugs. I don’t like the Patriot Act. I think that both parties are corrupt and unlikely to act on the environment fast enough. I think that the obsession with Russia is idiocy and that both parties are busy sucking up to the damn defense contractors. We still haven’t bounced back from the pandemic, have we? A year after the last election, we’re still muddling along toward a sluggish recovery,” I continued my tirade.

“So, a bit of a populist ... but a left-wing, progressive type. I don’t recall seeing you anywhere around Warren or Sanders, though,” Becca commented over her Samuel Adams, a common preference in beer.

“I officially bolted the party after the primaries, though I ended up voting for Biden, anyway. Not out of any great love for the guy. I had to really talk myself into it. Much of it because I felt that Trump botched the pandemic in ways that could kill millions. That and Social Security and the little bit of good that Biden might do to stall climate change, which ain’t much,” I was very frank now.

“Touche ... I had no fondness for Biden and his ... questionable past and ‘boys’ club’ bipartisan crap. I had a feeling that we were wooing the wrong kind of Republicans and independents. But that’s done and done, right? Who did you vote for in the primaries?” Becca probed.

“Tulsi Gabbard. And I don’t regret that for a New York minute. She was the right kind of leader, of commander-in-chief. One who only uses force when it’s vital to do so. Wages only just wars. Most of our wars have been unjust in my lifetime, if you ask me,” I elaborated my reasons for backing the maverick Hawaii Congresswoman.