Sons of Fortune

“I don’t know, sir,” said Fletcher helplessly. “To be honest, I don’t even know her name.”

“Diane Coulter,” said the senator.

“How do you know that?” asked Fletcher, wondering if senators knew everything.

“Research, my boy. Haven’t they taught you that at Hotchkiss yet?” Fletcher looked bewildered. “All you need to know is on page eleven of the program,” added the senator as he passed the open booklet across. Page eleven had been devoted to the cheerleaders supporting each school. “Diane Coulter,” repeated Fletcher, staring at the photo. She was a year younger than Fletcher—women are still willing to admit their age at thirteen—and she also played the violin in her school orchestra. How he wished he’d taken his mother’s advice and learned to play the piano.

The whistle blew for the third quarter, and after a series of brilliant passes, it was Hotchkiss’s turn to make it over the end zone, putting them back into the lead, which they clung onto until the end of the third quarter.

“Hello Taft, Hello Taft, you’re back where you belong,” sang the senator out of tune, while the teams took a timeout.

“There’s still the final quarter to come,” Fletcher reminded the senator as his ho

st passed the glasses across to him.

“Have you decided which side you’re supporting, young man, or have you been ensnared by the Tafties’ Mata Hari?” Fletcher looked puzzled. He would have to check on who Mata Hari was just as soon as he got back to his room. “She probably lives locally,” continued the senator, “in which case it will take a member of my staff about two minutes to find out everything you need to know about her.”

“Even her address and telephone number?” asked Fletcher.

“Even whether she has a boyfriend,” replied the senator.

“Wouldn’t that be abusing your position?” asked Fletcher.

“Damn right I would,” replied Senator Gates, “but then any politician would do as much if he felt it might ensure two extra votes at some future election.”

“But that doesn’t solve the problem of meeting her while I’m stuck in Farmington.”

“That can also be solved if you’d come and spend a few days with us after Christmas, and then I’ll make sure that she and her parents are invited to some function at the Capitol.”

“You’ll do that for me?”

“Sure will, but at some time you’ll have to learn about trade-offs if you’re going to deal with a politician.”

“What’s the trade-off?” asked Fletcher. “I’ll do anything.”

“Never admit to that, my boy, because it immediately puts you in the weaker bargaining position. However, all I want in return on this occasion is for you to make sure Jimmy somehow scrapes off the bottom of the class. That will be your part of the bargain.”

“It’s a deal, Senator,” said Fletcher, shaking hands.

“That’s good to hear,” said the senator, “because Jimmy seems only too willing to follow your lead.”

It was the first time anyone had suggested that Fletcher might be a leader. Until that moment it hadn’t even crossed his mind. He thought about the senator’s words, and failed to notice Taft’s winning touchdown until Diane rushed up out of the bleachers and began a ritual that unfortunately resembled a victory ceremony. There would be no extra day off this year.

As the game began, Nat had continued to stare as Diane climbed back into the bleachers. He wondered how he could possibly meet her. It wouldn’t be easy. Dan Coulter was a god. How could a new boy possibly hope to scale Olympus?

“Good run,” hollered Tom.

“Who?” said Nat.

“Coulter, of course. He’s just picked up the first down.”

“Coulter?”

“Don’t tell me you were still staring at his sister when the Kissies fumbled?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Then you’ll be able to tell me how many yards we gained,” Tom said, looking at his friend. He paused. “I thought so, you weren’t even watching.” He let out an exaggerated sigh, “I do believe that the time has come to put you out of your misery.”