“Just to family. She’s my sister.”
“She’s cute,” the guy said, looking appreciatively after Maura as she walked off, and Milo gave the guy a look that said, Back off, you’re talking about my sister.
“So I’m wondering about this campaign of yours,” the guy said.
“Great,” Milo said, stretching his hand across the booth divider. “I’m Milo Wright, by the way.”
The guy shook his hand. “I’m Spencer Grafton.”
“Nice to meet you, Spencer. What were you wondering about the campaign?”
“Well, a lot of things.”
“Like what?”
“Well, like, why should I care?”
Milo opened his mouth to respond, but Spencer kept talking. His tone was easy and pleasant, despite the fact that what he was saying was fairly harsh.
“I’m nineteen, so this is the first presidential election I can vote in. And you know what? I don’t really even care. I haven’t even registered. I just don’t see the point in it.”
Milo could feel Eden next to him, taking a deep breath, getting herself ready to defend democracy and the principle of voting and exercising your constitutional rights, but she didn’t start talking fast enough. Spencer was getting more and more animated.
“Everyone acts like voting is such a big deal, and you’re some kind of social freak if you don’t do it, but we all know that your one little vote doesn’t mean much as far as the big election goes. I mean, look at what happened back in that presidential election a while ago. That guy who won the popular vote didn’t even become president. The electoral college is what matters.” He looked at Milo. “And there’s even less of a point for you to be running. I mean, you didn’t deserve to have that guy throw stuff at you, but still. You won’t be president, no matter how you look at it. So why are you doing this?”
Milo had a feeling he was going to get very sick of this question. Plus, he still felt deflated from his earlier encounter with Mr. McDonald. It was hard to put the right amount of enthusiasm into his standard answer, but he tried. “There are a lot of reasons. The short answer is pretty cheesy, but it’s true—I want to make a difference. I want to get other people my age interested in the political process, and I want to put together a platform based on issues that teenagers care about. I want to get the word out to the people in politics that our voice means something. And I want to see how far we can go with this.”
“I guess those reasons make sense,” Spencer said, “but I’m still not convinced.”
“It’s also a good way to meet girls,” Milo said, as Maura wandered back into the shade, eating a cherry SnoCone.
“I’ll be in the car, Milo,” she told him. Spencer smiled at her. She looked at him and didn’t smile at all. Then she turned her back on them and walked toward the car.
“Ouch,” said Spencer, cringing a little and glancing at Milo. “Your sister isn’t giving an inch.”
“You’re telling me,” Milo agreed.
Spencer stood up and wandered off, and Milo turned his attention to the group of teenage girls who had come back one last time to ask if he thought he was going to be on MTV anytime soon.
* * *
As they were loading the last of their stuff into the trunk of the car, Milo looked up to see Spencer jogging toward them across the park. Milo groaned inwardly. The guy was nice, but he was probably coming back to try to talk to Maura again. But to Milo’s surprise, Spencer didn’t mention her at all.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said without any preamble, leaning against the car, “and I have a really, really good idea.” He grinned. “Not to brag or anything.”
“Oh, yeah?” Eden didn’t sound like she took too kindly to anyone outside of the campaign having really, really good ideas.
Spencer didn’t seem to notice her tone. “Yeah.” He leaned forward. “You should do an under-eighteen vote, on election day. Send out ballots to all the high schools you can find. Have the students vote and have the teachers collect the ballots and e-mail you the results that night. Put it all together and see who would win if it were just up to kids in high school. See if it would be Milo, or someone else, one of the ‘real’ candidates.”
Milo was already nodding by the time Spencer finished. “That is a great idea. We’ve been trying to figure out a way to make the campaign more relevant.” He looked over at Eden.
“It would cost a lot of money to copy and send all that stuff out,” Eden said. “And you’d want to have some kind of website, and contact people at different schools . . .” She shook her head. “It’d cost more than we have for the entire campaign. We don’t have that much money.”
“Yeah, but I bet you could figure out some way to get it. And I’m going into web design. I could design the webpage for you guys for free.” He grinned. “It would look good on my resume if you guys made a name for yourselves with this.”
“This could really work,” Eden said slowly. The way she looked at Spencer made Milo feel, weirdly enough, the littlest bit jealous.
* * *
On the ride home, they all rolled down their windows and Maura turned off the air-conditioning so the car could go uphill without dying. Eden sat in the front with Maura, and Milo was in the back. Paige sat in the middle. Jack had eaten so much cotton candy that Milo could smell it even though he wasn’t next to him.
Milo’s stomach growled. He couldn’t wait to get home, eat a real meal, and put himself back together again. He felt raw, like he’d used up all his defenses. Having to explain himself at every turn had been more draining than he’d expected.
“Today was a success,” declared Eden from the front seat.
“Really?” Milo asked. “I didn’t think so. We didn’t get any donations. People kept walking right past us. I made a war veteran hate me. Even the people who did talk to us thought we were kind of a freak show, and I didn’t get to eat a single SnoCone.”
“It’s not exactly how I pictured it either,” Eden told him. “But that’s not all bad. Some teenagers seemed really interested and took our fliers. And Spencer’s idea was perfect, exactly what we needed. That whole beanbag thing was only one person.”
“No, it wasn’t only one person,” Milo said.
“Did someone else throw a beanbag at you and I missed it?” Eden asked sardonically.
“No, but most of the adults who were there acted like we were nothing. We worked so hard on those fliers and banners and on researching the issues and everything and they all just blew by us. Either they acted like I wasn’t there or they smirked at me. Like there was no way I could have anything interesting to say.”
“So what else is new?” Jack asked. “Adults are always doing that.”
“I know, but it really ticked me off today.” Milo kicked off his shoes and stuck his feet between the seats and into Eden’s face. “When do adults start thinking that they know every single thing there is to know, and they don’t have to keep learning?”
“I don’t think adults think that,” said Eden, shoving his feet away and making a face. “I think they’ve figured out that they’ll never know everything, and they can’t stand to think about that, so they just pretend.”
Chapter 8
June
Article from the Haventon Daily News editorial page
A U.S. President from Sage?
Why Not?
In case you’ve missed the news, Milo J. Wright is running for president! For more information, visit his website at www.writeinwright.com or call him at 555–8976.*
*If you are interested in having your lawn mowed by J&M Mowing, you can also call this same number. No yard too big or small.
James Pharmacy . . .
. . . is pleased to announce they will be offering home delivery to the elderly or ill beginning July 10th
. Please specify “delivery” when you place your order.
Volunteer Opportunities:
The organizers of Sage Youth Soccer Camp are looking for a volunteer to help prepare sports drinks and do other tasks to help the camp run smoothly. No experience necessary.
Announcement from the School District:
Remember, school starts on August 25th this year. If you are interested in being a Sage High student senator, there will be a meeting in the auditorium after school on the 25th. There are many spots still available for those who would like to get involved.
Announcement from Sage City Council:
All entries for the Fourth of July Parade need to be submitted to the City Office for approval no later than June 30. You must specify on your entry form whether your entry is a float, a vehicle, a walking or dancing group, a band, or livestock (i.e., horses). You must also specify the club or group that is sponsoring the float. The theme for this year’s Fourth of July Parade is “Sage: Aiming Higher.”
FRESHMAN FOR PRESIDENT?
Commentary by Tami Caleb
At the Flag Day Celebration this year in Haventon, people were surprised to hear that there was a presidential candidate in the crowd. However, the candidate wasn’t a governor from New Mexico or a senator from Pennsylvania. Instead, it was Milo Wright, a fifteen-year-old who just finished his freshman year at Sage High School. Wright has decided to declare himself a candidate for President of the United States and was in Haventon for the Flag Day Celebration, where he and his friends set up a booth and tried to rally people to their cause.
To many, this seemed like a ploy for attention. “No, I didn’t stop and talk to him. He’s not a real candidate,” said Stuart Johnson, a member of Haventon’s city council. “He’s just a kid.” However, some who spoke with Wright were impressed. Annie Oldroyd, a history teacher at Haventon High School, said that Wright appears to be serious. “When I talked with him at his booth, he really did want to talk about some of the issues facing teenagers, and he had obviously done his research on those topics. I’ve since heard that he is planning to run a site on the Internet dedicated to getting the teenage vote, which I think sounds like an intriguing idea. I’m going to watch his campaign with interest.”
Kevin Wallace, a student at Haventon High who also spoke with Wright, agreed. “He knows he can’t actually be the president. But he can still run and draw attention to the issues that teenagers care about. I thought it was kind of cool.”
Some of the issues that Wright mentioned taking a stand on were standardized testing (he would like to see it reduced), the environment (he would like to make recycling easier and more accessible to more communities and thinks there are ways teenagers could help with this), and reaching out to those in need in America and abroad.
Wright also handled with grace an incident where a member of the crowd initiated an angry confrontation.
Still, questions remain about his sincerity and his drive to actually finish the campaign. There are several months left before Election Day, and Wright has a lot to overcome in his quest. It’s hard enough for a freshman senator to mount a viable campaign for president. It seems that a freshman in high school faces an impossible task. It will be interesting to see how far Wright’s campaign can go.
Chapter 9
July
Fliers on Sage City’s official announcement board in Town Square
* * *
I feel like a freaking Girl Scout.” Jack flopped onto a bench next to Eden in Sage’s Town Square. Town Square was the grand name for the old vacant lot on Main Street next to Walsh’s Grocery and a block up from James Pharmacy. The City Council had turned it into a small park (in spite of opposition from Patrick Walsh, who had wanted to use it as a parking lot). The park had a gazebo, a few benches, and a freestanding message board. You could take a flier or announcement to the City Council, and if they approved it, they’d put it up there for all the town to see. Milo could see the red, white, and blue of his presidential flier from where he stood.
“Except Girl Scouts have littleness and cuteness going for them,” Paige told Jack.
“Don’t forget the cookies,” said Eden.
“I could make cookies,” Jack said. “Everyone else can keep trying to raise money and I’ll stay home and make cookies.”
“Do you even know how to make cookies?” Paige asked.
“How hard can it be? And I’d rather do anything than this. This is humiliating.” They had been going door-to-door, asking businesses to sponsor their campaign. They were giving out certificates for free lawn-mowing service from J&M Mowing in exchange. The results had not been encouraging, although Jack had talked the owner of the Pizza Parlor into trading some of the lawn-mowing certificates for free pizza vouchers.
“Let’s just give it another hour or so,” Eden said brightly. “I think some of us should keep trying to get some business sponsors. My dad told me he’d sponsor us, so we’ll go to the pharmacy and sign him up, and then we can go to the bookstore next door. They’re always really nice. And Milo—” Milo suddenly felt wary.
“What? What are you going to have me do?”
“You are going to do something we should have done a couple of weeks ago,” Eden said. “You’re going to Mr. Walsh’s office to ask him to help fund the under-eighteen voting project. I called his secretary this morning and she said he’s in his office today, so I made you an appointment. It’s in ten minutes.”
“Argh,” groaned Milo. He was sick of walking around begging for money. Eden had made him wear an ironed shirt and tie, and she had talked Jack into wearing khakis with his Write in Wright T-shirt. Milo was sweltering under the pressure of trying to look professional and failing. His reflection in the store windows told him that he looked like a fifteen year old in a shirt and tie who was hating every minute of it.
At least Mr. Walsh’s office would be air-conditioned. And Mrs. Walsh kept asking him if he’d talked to her son yet. “I guess I might as well get it over with.” He looked over at Eden. “You’re coming with me, right?”
Eden looked sheepish. “I don’t think so, Milo. I think I’ll let you handle this one on your own.”
“Oh, no.” Milo shook his head. “I don’t want to go in there by myself. I thought you’d come with me.”
Eden sighed. “I can’t do it, Milo. I can’t make myself ask him for money, not when I just finished paying him back for that stupid window a couple of years ago.”
The words “I can’t” didn’t come out of Eden James’s mouth very often.
Milo wanted to protest further, but then he said, “All right.” Eden had definitely done her share of the unpleasant tasks that went along with running for president. He was about due for one. Plus, he had never sent a baseball crashing through Mr. Walsh’s window.
* * *
The Walsh Grocery business office was in a new brick building on Main Street, across the street from James Pharmacy. Mr. James was as good as his word and made a sizable donation to the campaign.
“Thanks, Mr. James,” Milo told him, shaking his hand.
“You’re welcome, son. Good luck. Come back for some ice cream after your visit with Mr. Walsh.” Mr. James turned back to help an elderly customer who had plopped a medicine bottle on the counter, loudly declaring that it was impossible to open.
“Good luck, Milo,” Eden said, as they walked him to the door of the pharmacy. The large brick building loomed large across the street.
“You guys are meeting me here afterwards, right?”
“We’ll be here,” Eden promised.
Milo opened the pharmacy door and stepped into the shimmering afternoon heat. He gave his friends a little wave and started off. He didn’t look back.
As he walked, he tightened up his tie and looked down at his scuffed brown shoes,
wondering if he should have polished them. He probably wouldn’t even be in Mr. Walsh’s office long enough for him to notice. Maybe he wouldn’t even make it into the office. Maybe he would get kicked out on the street the minute he tried to get through the door by some bodyguards who made sure no one asked Mr. Walsh for money.
“I have to get some Secret Service agents,” Milo told himself. He’d have to talk to Eden about that. He grinned a little, imagining Jack and Paige wearing suits and sunglasses and little white earpieces as they escorted him from class to class at school.
He should also get a briefcase, he thought. He held a manila folder full of campaign fliers and information in his hand. It made him feel like he was about to turn in a report to a teacher. If he had a briefcase and some Secret Service agents, that might make all the difference in whether or not people took him seriously. He snorted to himself. Yeah, right, he thought. It’ll take more than that to make people take me seriously.
He walked the last few yards down the sidewalk and into the building. It wasn’t hard to find the right office. A huge glass door just inside proclaimed “Patrick Walsh Corporation.”
He didn’t allow himself to hesitate. He pushed the door open and a receptionist glanced up at him. “Milo Wright?”
“That’s me.” Instantly, he wished he’d said something more formal.
“Mr. Walsh will be a few more minutes.” She smiled at him. “Go ahead and sit down.”
Milo reached over and picked up the first magazine his hand touched. It turned out to be a copy of Forbes magazine. He searched underneath it and found nothing else except BusinessWeek. Since he wasn’t going to be a business tycoon for a while yet, he put the magazines back and looked at the walls instead. He wondered what his friends were doing right at that moment. They were probably sitting at the soda counter in the pharmacy, eating ice cream and laughing and talking. He wondered what his sister was doing. Probably continuing her silent treatment of the world.