Page 6 of The Mayor and the Mystery Man

“Fuck. Has it been that long?” I found myself wandering through the house, his voice and our conversation lighting up the halls like he was beside me. “Where does the time go?”

“You have a beautiful family and an awesome career to show for it. Unlike some of us.”

I didn’t take the bait. Dusty bounced around careers his entire adult life, never finding the right fit. Perhaps after a childhood of moving, he was one of those people who constantly had to be in motion. Unlike me, who lived in the same town since birth. Carpentry seemed to be working out for him, and even though he took a roundabout way to get there, the important fact was that he was there.

“You have a great life, Dust. A place on the beach, working on a hit TV show.”

Dusty didn’t respond right away. Silence hung between us.

“You’re a good guy, Leo. You love that town. This will blow over.”

“I hope so. Vernita says I’m stiff.”

“You’re not,” he said with full confidence. “I have the anecdotes to prove it.”

“What if I lose re-election?” I strolled into my empty living room, adjusting books on the built-in bookcases by the fireplace, which were drooping under the weight.

“You can run again.”

“It’s not that easy. If I lose re-election, then this scandal will follow me around. The albatross around my neck.” I picked up a picture on the mantle. It was me at my first ribbon-cutting ceremony for a new playground. I had practiced holding the big scissors so I didn’t mess up in public. “If my opponent wins, she’s going to destroy the soul of this town, turn it into some indistinguishable suburb with the same chain stores, the same sterile-looking condos. And that will be on me because I couldn’t keep it in my pants.”

I flopped onto my couch and stared into the empty fireplace. I was met with silence.

“This is the part where you say something inspiring and uplifting.”

“Sorry. I was grabbing a beer from the fridge.”

“Sam Adams. Bottle, not can.”

“You know it.”

I pictured Dusty’s wide smile and his eyes crinkling at the corners as he shook his blond hair out of his eyes. He’d always had a surfer look and zen mentality to him.

Dusty exhaled in a low thoughtful groan. “I remember when you called me up scared. ‘Does this sound batshit crazy,’ you said.”

I closed my eyes and laughed, the memory coming alive.

“You said you were thinking of running for mayor and leaving your law practice behind.”

It sounded nuts when I first had the idea, but I couldn’t let it go.

“A guy with no political experience? Going up against Mr. Three-Term–”

“Four-term”

“You were a long shot. You had me on the phone for two fucking hours, doing your pros and cons bullshit, and I kept telling you to pull the trigger.”

It was like it was yesterday. Those small decisions that have big ripple effects. Dusty had complete confidence in me that never wavered over that epic conversation.

“But even though you were scared, you knew in your heart you could do it. Deep down, you wanted the challenge. You like challenges. Hell, I remember when I first met you. You were always driven to win.” Dusty let out a raspy laugh, and he still had the bountiful cheer that echoed throughout college.

Freshman year of college. My political science seminar. I got into it with this guy in the back of class with a puka shell necklace and ripped jeans over the legality of the Clinton impeachment. After a while of going back and forth, I got the feeling he didn’t care about Bill Clinton so much as he enjoyed getting a rise out of me.

But from there, somehow, a friendship was born.

Wasn’t it strange how you met your friends? The most random moments could be monumental. There were guys I thought I’d be lifelong friends with—frat brothers and debate teammates and internship co-workers—but none of those friendships lasted like the one with the laid-back, pot-smoking student in the back of the class.

“You thrive on challenge, Leo. Deep down, you love this. Because now you’re the underdog again.”

---