Page 64 of Beautiful Beginning

A set of glass doors greeted us, but she didn’t proceed through them. “Go through those doors, then to your right.” She held a lot of hope in her eyes as she said, “Good luck with your advocacy. Mr. Bradford is a decent guy.”

“Thanks.” I waved at her before walking through the doors. Taking the right as she instructed, I gathered my thoughts. I prepared to pitch myself as a candidate for his efforts. My pseudo-accomplishments of SGA president on the tip of my tongue. My desire to shake things up in politics pinned to my heart. And when I walked through suite 315, I was ready to divulge it all.

“Mr. Brown.” The white man with the tailored suit surprised me. I expected an assistant, a staff member. Not Mr. Bradford himself to greet me.

I stood tall, shoulders back, head held high though. Like my dad told me to do whenever I met someone. “Mr. Bradford, my apologies for my tardiness. Couldn’t exactly find the elevator.” I held my hand out for him to shake.

He did so with a firmness that his daddy probably taught him at a young age. “No problem, this building is tricky.” He started walking down a hallway. “But we don’t plan on being here long. In November we plan on moving to a new location.”

Aspirational. I liked that about him. From everything I researched on the man, he was legit. So far, there were no skeletons in his closet. Nothing like spewing racial remarks or taunting inappropriate costumes for Halloween. As far as I could tell, he and his wife were happily married, and he had no side chicks. “I wouldn’t mind helping you pack up for that,” I joked.

In an office, with little furniture, he sat behind the desk. With a wave of his hand, he offered the seat across from him. “If you are half as accomplished as Professor Martin described, I could only hope you’d do that.”

And so it began, I leveled myself for a barrage of questions. A way for him to test my political acumen. To understand where I stood on viewpoints that affected the state. Or my viewpoint on the current occupant of the capitol. But none of that came.

He leaned back in his chair and asked, “Outside of political science, what motivates you?” A mic might as well drop in front of him.

I wasn’t as prepared to answer that. Not exactly. I cleared my throat. Got comfortable in the seat then said, “Knowing that the people around me are well and thriving.” Then I transformed from a so-called advocate to an activist, adding, “You know it’s one thing for a few of us to graduate from college and start successful careers. It’ll be something when every kid from the high schools around here has that same opportunity. Kids from all backgrounds and especially those from underprivileged communities.”

“And you believe that it’s possible?”

“If it’s not, it’s worth making it possible. Taking a chance. Driving the change we want to see.” I squared my face. “Otherwise, what is the point?”

There was silence in the room. In that moment, I realized there was silence surrounding the office too. I assumed someone running for governor would always have a team of people around him. I imagined people running in and out of his office, a campaign manager spewing out statistics. An analyst giving him the most up to date poll results.

“That’s right.” There was a small smirk on his face. “If anyone is in politics to keep the status quo, it’s time for them to vacate their position.” He leaned forward. “What are your thoughts on that?”

“Oh, I agree.” I didn’t want to get caught up in how much that was my jam. I could have gone on for hours about the topic. Poured out every indecent act of recent politicians who refused to push the ball forward. But I settled with, “That requires accepting things that we’ve championed may need to change too.” I challenged, “Is that something you are willing to do if you win?”

One thing about politicians, they were often full of lies. Half the time discerning the truth from a falsehood was challenging. They spewed dishonesty like they were stating their name—simply, with a straight face. Mr. Bradford was no different. But until I could call him on his shit, I had no reason not to trust him.

So, when he said, “I have a task team dedicated to doing that. Reviewing policy to determine what no longer serves us as a state.” He chuckled. “I’ll admit that list is longer than I expected, we’ll have to prioritize it. A commitment from not only me but future governors too.”

“Mr. Brown.” He held his hands together in front of him. “I already made up my mind before you arrived. I want you on my team. I want someone like you who can bridge the gap between us and the college students.”

As a recent college graduate that would make sense. But there was no doubt there were other reasons Mr. Bradford wanted me on his team, and I had to call it out. “And the diversity turn out…”

He laughed unexpectedly. “That’s a bonus, but I’m hoping that isn’t your goal on the campaign. I’m hoping you could work with the team across many initiatives.”

I couldn’t help but look out to the hallway. Through the small window that gave us a glimpse beyond the walls of the office. “And where is this team of yours?”

“At our campaign office near the capitol.” He added, “And if you’d like to meet any of them before making a decision, I’d make that happen.” He stood, “You’ll be hearing from someone with details. But if you have any questions feel free to reach out.” He raised his phone in the air. “Unfortunately, I’m glued to this thing.” He winced. “Not to my wife’s liking.”

He walked me to the glass doors, and after we shook hands I stood in the empty elevator with a lot on my mind. Much to consider. With a few days left of spring break, I decided not to tell Journey. Not yet. Not until I had the official offer, and a decision.

ChapterTwenty-Nine

Journey

The cloud I floated on stuck around after we made it back to Hill Mount. Spring break did what spring needed to do. It refreshed me, eased my nerves, and had me more than a little excited to see my man.

That was until he answered the call sounding like he was knocking on death’s door. “Are you okay?” I sat on the floor near my opened suitcase and braced for the bad news. Whatever it was he was about to tell me that would drop me from the cloud. My legs curled into my chest, and my arms wrapped around them.

“Can you come over?”

I had more questions but no answer to his very simple one. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“In person, Journey. I promise to explain it all.”

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