Sons of Fortune

“Of course, sir.”

“Perhaps we could have a chat in my study.” Fletcher quickly rose and followed the senator out of the room. He looked back at Jimmy, but his friend just shrugged his shoulders. He wondered if he had done something wrong.

“Have a seat,” said Harry Gates as he took his place behind the desk. He paused before he added, “Fletcher, I need a favor.”

“Anything, sir. I’ll never be able to repay you for all you’ve done for me.”

“You’ve more than honored our agreement,” said the senator. “For the past three years, Jimmy has somehow kept his place in the top stream, and he wouldn’t have had a prayer without your continued vigilance.”

“That’s kind of you to say so, but…”

“It’s no more than the truth, but all I want for the boy now is to see that he has a fair shot at getting into Yale.”

“But how can I help when I’m not even certain of a place myself?”

The senator ignored the comment. “Pork barrel politics, my boy.”

“I’m not sure I understand, sir.”

“If you become student government president, as I’m confident you will, the first thing you’ll have to do is appoint a vice-president.” Fletcher nodded. “And that could just tip the balance for Jimmy when the admissions office at Yale decides who gets those last few places.”

“And it’s just tipped the balance for me, sir.”

“Thank you, Fletcher, I appreciate that, but please don’t let Jimmy know that we’ve had this conversation.”

As soon as he woke the following morning, Fletcher went next door and sat on the end of Jimmy’s bed. “This had better be good,” said Jimmy, “because I was dreaming about Daisy Hollingsworth.”

“Dream on,” said Fletcher, “half the football team are in love with her.”

“So why did you wake me?”

“I’ve decided to run for president, and I don’t need a campaign manager who lies in bed all morning.”

“Was it something my father said?”

“Indirectly.” He paused. “So who do you think will be my main rival?”

“Steve Rodgers,” said Jimmy without hesitation.

“Why Steve?”

“He’s a three-letter man, so they’ll try to run him as the popular jock up against the austere academic. You know, Kennedy against Stevenson.”

“I had no idea you knew what the word austere meant.”

“No more jokes, Fletcher,” said Jimmy as he rolled off the bed. “If you’re going to beat Rodgers, you’ll have to be prepared for anything and everything they throw at you. I think we ought to begin by having a breakfast meeting with Dad; he always has breakfast meetings before he starts a campaign.”

“I lost my first campaign,” said Senator Gates, when he heard Fletcher’s news, “so let’s be sure that you don’t make the same mistakes. For a start, who’s your campaign manager?”

“Jimmy, of course.”

“Never ‘of course’ only select someone who you are convinced can do the job, even if you’re not close friends.”

“I’m convinced he can do the job,” said Fletcher.

“Good. Now, Jimmy, you will be of no value to the candidate”—it was the first time Fletcher thought of himself as the candidate—“unless you’re always open and frank with Fletcher, however unpleasant it might be.” Jimmy nodded. “Who’s your main rival?”

“Steve Rodgers.”