Post by derek on Apr 25, 2016 19:10:08 GMT
So, after rolling my dice, I got 5, 5, 1. A bus driver, a politician, in a parking lot. Sounds like a game of Clue. Anyway.
I don't think this came out all that great, but it's not bad for a first draft. Let me know what you think!
---
“Why’re we stopping?” the politician, Jeremy Stand asked, leaning around the back of Karl, the bus driver’s seat.
“Engine’s sounding funny,” Karl answered, not looking to Stand, as he turned the big wheel. His thin arms flexed as he struggled to turn it. “And I think the steering’s gone. We’ll need more hydraulic fluid.”
Karl heard Stand smack his forehead with a sigh, no doubt cracking the gel that held Stand’s hair in its proper place. He resisted the urge to chuckle, and instead focused on parking the monstrous campaign bus. They were lucky in a way--Karl had been able to get the bus off the road and into a Stop & Shop parking lot. The lot itself was oversized and had plenty of empty spaces in the back, which is where Karl brought the bus. He took four spots to do so, and the bus still stuck out of either end, but at least they weren’t in the road.
“Sorry Mr. Stand,” Karl said, finally turning in his seat to face the politician. He pulled off his “Stand with Stand” baseball cap and used it to whip his forehead. Turning the wheel was a lot of work. “We’re stuck here. I’ll call it in.”
“Right, right,” Stand said, as he looked over Karl’s shoulder into the rearview mirror. He flicked a few clumps of brown hair into place and Karl swore some gel landed on the bus driver’s shoulder. “This will be fine. We can get the bus fixed in an hour or two. We’ll need to cancel an appearance at the town hall, but I can still make the debate. This will work. Leslie!” He turned on his heel and walked into the back of the bus, shouting demands of his campaign manager and glorified secretary.
Karl watched him go, and sighed in relief that someone else was the subject of Stand’s attention. He took his radio and called into the home base about what had happened.
The man on the other end of the radio spoke to Karl in a hard, annoyed tone. He began a speech that Karl had heard numerous times before, explaining how they were so lucky as a bus company to be selected by future president Jeremy Stand to serve as his campaign bus and how they had to make a good impression and if this went right everything would be perfect and how nothing could go wrong and on and on. Karl tuned him out, giving appropriate “Uh-huhs” and other information as he was told.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t as able to tune out the rest of the sound on the bus. Stand was still barking orders, and Leslie, a nice woman in her late twenties, was also agreeing to all demands. In the rearview mirror, Karl could she her, blonde hair in a bun, head tilted down, clicking away on an iPad. She was overworked, underpaid, and certainly not appreciated. But, to hear her talk about Stand, it was clear she believed he was the best choice for the country.
Karl wished he agreed.
Stand appeared near Karl and opened the door on his own, barely nodding to the driver as Karl continued relaying the information. Leslie followed behind him, holding her iPad, and last was Mrs. Stand, Stand’s wife. An older woman, either 40 or 60--it was hard to tell. A woman of money and quiet confidence. She gave Karl a little smile as she walked off, mouth open as if to say something, but shutting it gently when she saw he was on the radio. He nodded at her, and she returned it.
Karl watched as Stand walked to the front of the bus, where a small group of people were starting to gather. Stand was in politician mode now, his mouth wide in a Dentist-perfect smile that looked kind but lacked sincerity. He shook the hand of anyone who approached, speaking in a loud tone meant to carry to as many people as possible. Through the glass, Karl could hear him explain that “they had a bit of engine trouble” and “were looking to get groceries anyway” and “was so happy that he could meet with the voters and discuss the true issues plaguing the nation.”
Karl sighed. It was all an act.
The crowd formed quickly--after all, Stand had been on TV, and many grocery shoppers gathered around. Stand had no speech prepared, but he didn’t need one. He flashed his too-white smile and shook more hands, reminding people that they should “Stand Tall” and “Stand with Stand.” Karl wondered if anyone else could see the insincerity Stand showed. Karl wondered if anyone remembered ten years ago when Stand felt differently on issues like equal rights than he does now. He wondered if anyone truly believed a word he said.
Karl had gone into the election supporting Stand wholeheartedly, and when he was offered the chance to drive the bus, he was overjoyed. But, Karl was in a unique situation--he got to see Stand when the cameras weren’t rolling. He was the driver--he was often present and even more often forgotten, so he could see the true Stand. The one who hid behind the cameras. The one who was jealous of his wife’s success, the one who spent hours at night rehearsing speeches, the one who agonized over his appearance.
The one who cried when the news media ripped him apart on one poorly-timed sentence.
Karl grew to know the true Stand. He saw the man who the voters didn’t.
And now, as he watched Stand speak to the crowd, Karl wondered if anyone else would.
The radio call ended. Karl watched as Stand made his way to the Stop & Shop, the people following him. Karl decided to step off the bus, as it was only a matter of time before news media showed up. He walked to the front of the bus, and leaned on it. It would be a half-hour or so before the repair guy showed up. Karl crossed his arms and watched as Stand led the way into the market.
Mrs. Stand looked back. She smiled at Karl. He returned it.
Karl knew the real Jeremy Stand.
Karl would never vote for him.
I don't think this came out all that great, but it's not bad for a first draft. Let me know what you think!
---
“Why’re we stopping?” the politician, Jeremy Stand asked, leaning around the back of Karl, the bus driver’s seat.
“Engine’s sounding funny,” Karl answered, not looking to Stand, as he turned the big wheel. His thin arms flexed as he struggled to turn it. “And I think the steering’s gone. We’ll need more hydraulic fluid.”
Karl heard Stand smack his forehead with a sigh, no doubt cracking the gel that held Stand’s hair in its proper place. He resisted the urge to chuckle, and instead focused on parking the monstrous campaign bus. They were lucky in a way--Karl had been able to get the bus off the road and into a Stop & Shop parking lot. The lot itself was oversized and had plenty of empty spaces in the back, which is where Karl brought the bus. He took four spots to do so, and the bus still stuck out of either end, but at least they weren’t in the road.
“Sorry Mr. Stand,” Karl said, finally turning in his seat to face the politician. He pulled off his “Stand with Stand” baseball cap and used it to whip his forehead. Turning the wheel was a lot of work. “We’re stuck here. I’ll call it in.”
“Right, right,” Stand said, as he looked over Karl’s shoulder into the rearview mirror. He flicked a few clumps of brown hair into place and Karl swore some gel landed on the bus driver’s shoulder. “This will be fine. We can get the bus fixed in an hour or two. We’ll need to cancel an appearance at the town hall, but I can still make the debate. This will work. Leslie!” He turned on his heel and walked into the back of the bus, shouting demands of his campaign manager and glorified secretary.
Karl watched him go, and sighed in relief that someone else was the subject of Stand’s attention. He took his radio and called into the home base about what had happened.
The man on the other end of the radio spoke to Karl in a hard, annoyed tone. He began a speech that Karl had heard numerous times before, explaining how they were so lucky as a bus company to be selected by future president Jeremy Stand to serve as his campaign bus and how they had to make a good impression and if this went right everything would be perfect and how nothing could go wrong and on and on. Karl tuned him out, giving appropriate “Uh-huhs” and other information as he was told.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t as able to tune out the rest of the sound on the bus. Stand was still barking orders, and Leslie, a nice woman in her late twenties, was also agreeing to all demands. In the rearview mirror, Karl could she her, blonde hair in a bun, head tilted down, clicking away on an iPad. She was overworked, underpaid, and certainly not appreciated. But, to hear her talk about Stand, it was clear she believed he was the best choice for the country.
Karl wished he agreed.
Stand appeared near Karl and opened the door on his own, barely nodding to the driver as Karl continued relaying the information. Leslie followed behind him, holding her iPad, and last was Mrs. Stand, Stand’s wife. An older woman, either 40 or 60--it was hard to tell. A woman of money and quiet confidence. She gave Karl a little smile as she walked off, mouth open as if to say something, but shutting it gently when she saw he was on the radio. He nodded at her, and she returned it.
Karl watched as Stand walked to the front of the bus, where a small group of people were starting to gather. Stand was in politician mode now, his mouth wide in a Dentist-perfect smile that looked kind but lacked sincerity. He shook the hand of anyone who approached, speaking in a loud tone meant to carry to as many people as possible. Through the glass, Karl could hear him explain that “they had a bit of engine trouble” and “were looking to get groceries anyway” and “was so happy that he could meet with the voters and discuss the true issues plaguing the nation.”
Karl sighed. It was all an act.
The crowd formed quickly--after all, Stand had been on TV, and many grocery shoppers gathered around. Stand had no speech prepared, but he didn’t need one. He flashed his too-white smile and shook more hands, reminding people that they should “Stand Tall” and “Stand with Stand.” Karl wondered if anyone else could see the insincerity Stand showed. Karl wondered if anyone remembered ten years ago when Stand felt differently on issues like equal rights than he does now. He wondered if anyone truly believed a word he said.
Karl had gone into the election supporting Stand wholeheartedly, and when he was offered the chance to drive the bus, he was overjoyed. But, Karl was in a unique situation--he got to see Stand when the cameras weren’t rolling. He was the driver--he was often present and even more often forgotten, so he could see the true Stand. The one who hid behind the cameras. The one who was jealous of his wife’s success, the one who spent hours at night rehearsing speeches, the one who agonized over his appearance.
The one who cried when the news media ripped him apart on one poorly-timed sentence.
Karl grew to know the true Stand. He saw the man who the voters didn’t.
And now, as he watched Stand speak to the crowd, Karl wondered if anyone else would.
The radio call ended. Karl watched as Stand made his way to the Stop & Shop, the people following him. Karl decided to step off the bus, as it was only a matter of time before news media showed up. He walked to the front of the bus, and leaned on it. It would be a half-hour or so before the repair guy showed up. Karl crossed his arms and watched as Stand led the way into the market.
Mrs. Stand looked back. She smiled at Karl. He returned it.
Karl knew the real Jeremy Stand.
Karl would never vote for him.
